Skip to main content

Full text of "Harper's magazine"

See other formats 


For  Reference 


Not  to  be  taken  from  this  room 


4 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2013 


http://archive.org/details/harpersmagazine216janalde 


Harper's  Magazine 


Zt^ 


HARPER        &        BROTHERS,        PUBLISHERS        •        NEW        Y  O  R  |P(i8/|p 


INDEX 

Volume  216  •  January   1958  .  .  .  June   1958 


A 


Sue- 


a/fie,  Calif. 


Adams,  John  Kay  —  Reforming  Chi- 
cago: Slow  But  Not  Hopeless, 
June  69 

Adolph,  William  H.  —  Fashions  in 
Food,  June  57 

Advertising  Good  for?  What  Is  — 
Martin  Mayer,  Feb.  25 

AETTR  HOURS 

Brown,  Ji.,  Arthur,  Architect,  Mar. 

88 
Camera  Bugs,  May  77 
Uanby,  Edward  T.,  Disc  Jockey,  Mar. 

86 
Challis,  John,  Harpsichords,  June  78 
Churchill  Eisenhower  Art,  Apr.  83 
Disc  Jockey,  Serenade  to  the  Long- 
Haired,  Mar.  8.6 
Garroway,  Dave,  Apr.  80 
Harpsichord  with  the  Forward  Look 

(by  Bernard  Asbell),  June  78 
Jazz,  The  Sound  of,  Feb.  81 
Kentucky  Bourbon,  Jan.  80 
Levittown,  Long  Island,  Feb.  80 
Lively  (For  Once)  Art,  Feb.  81 
Menagerie  at  Versailles  in  1775,    (by 

John  Updike),  May  78 
Moore,  Garry,  June  80 
Movie,  Unwanted,  May  78 
One  Way  to  Get  Elected,  Jan.  79 
Paris  Restaurants,  Apr.  82 
"Pather  Panchali,"  May  78 
Photography,  May  77 
Randolph,  David,  Disk  Jockey,  Mar. 

86 
San      Francisco      Architecture       (by 

Henry  Hope  Reed,  Jr.)  Mar.  88 
Signs  of  the  Times,  June  80 
That  Lived-in  Look,   (by  James  Gal- 
lagher), Feb.  80 
"Today,"  A  Day  with,  Apr.  80 
Wheeler  Mansion  in  Bridgeport,  Jan. 

79 
Whiskey  Business,  Jan.  80 
Young  Old  Trouper,  June  80 

Alimony,  Common  Sense  About  — 
Judge  Samuel  H.  Hofstadter  and 
Arthur  Herzog,  May  68 

Animals  for  Brain,  Breedinc,  Feb. 
32 

Antibiotics:  Too  Much  of  a  Good 
Thing —  Vernon  Knight,  Feb.  60 

ARCHITECTURE 

After  Hours,  Mar.  88 
Levittown,  New  York,  Feb.  80 
Wheeler  Mansion  in  Bridgeport,  Jan. 

79 
Wright  Got  His  Medal,  How  Frank 

Lloyd,  May  30 

Asbell,  Bernard  —  Harpsichord  with 
the  Forward  Look,  June  78 


Ashmore,  Harry  S.  —  The  Untold 
Story  Behind  Little  Rock,  June  10 

ASTRONOMY 

New  Discoveries  About  the  Birth. 
Life  and  Death  of  the  Sun  and 
Other  Stars.  Two  Parts.  Mar.  29; 
Apr.  58 

Atomic  Fallout,  Jan.  48,  Feb.  72 
Australia:    The   Innocent   Conti- 
nent —  D.  W.  Brogan,  June  62 

AUTOMORILES 

Intercontinental,  Jan.  62 
Trailers,  Jan.  71 

AVIATION 

Jet  Air  Liners,  The  New,  June  50 
Barber,     Philip    W.  —  Tom    Wolfe 

Writes  a  Play,  May  71 
Baxter,   James   and  Annette  —  The 

Man    in    the    Blue    Suede    Shoes, 

Jan.  45 

Bendiner,  Alfred  — How  Frank 
Lloyd  Wright  Got  His  Medal, 
May  30 

Bliven,  Bruce  —  San  Francisco:  New 
Serpents  in  Eden,  Jan.  38 

Bloom,  Murray  Teigh  —  What  Two 
Lawyers  Are  Doing  to  Hollywood, 
Feb.  42 

Boat,  Hill  Climbing  by,  May  51 

ROOKS 

Books    in    Brief,    Jan.    90;    Feb.    89; 
Mar.   104;  Apr.  94;  May  91;  June 
90 
New  Books,   Jan.  84;   Feb.  83;   Mar. 

92;  Apr.  84;  May  80;  June  82 
Taylor's  "The  Statesman,"  Sir  Henry, 
Mar.  24 
Britain's  Spirit,  The  Iron  Corset 

on, Jan.  64 
Brogan,  D.  W.  —  Australia:  The  In- 
nocent Continent,  June  62 
Buchwald,  Emilic  Bix  —  Song,  Jan. 

61 
Budapest  String  Quartet  —  Martin 
Mayer,  Mar.  78 

RUSINESS  AND 
ECONOMICS 

Advertising  Good  For?,  What  Is,  Feb. 

25 
Hollywood,  What  Two  Lawyers  Are 

Doing  to,  Feb.  42 
Slump,  Four  Steps  to  Halt  the,  Apr. 

34 


Canadians  Are  Turning  Anti- 
American,  Why  —  Bruce  Hutchi- 
son, May  46 

Canby,  Edward  Tatnall  —  The  New 
Recordings,  Jan.  94;  Feb.  92;  Mar. 
108;  Apr.  100;  May  95;  June  94 

CARTOONS 

Angry  Young  Men  in  Old  Westbury, 

No,  Apr.  71 
Attack  Them,  So  Strong  No   Rival 

Kingdom  Would,  Mar.  44 
Biblical  Scrolls,  Feb.  44 
Brandenburg  Concerto,  Second,  Feb. 

94 
Earth  Is  Blown  Off  Its  Axis,  If  the, 

Apr.  62 
Wolfe  Has  Said  Everything,  Thomas, 

May  74 

Cary,  Joyce  —  Happy  Marriage,  Apr. 
65 

Case  of  the  Furious  Children,  The 
—  Charles  B.  Seib  and  Alan  L. 
Otten,  Jan.  56 

Central  Intelligence  Agency, 
Apr.  46 

Chance  to  Withdraw  Our  Troops 
in  Europe,  A— George  F.  Kennan, 
Feb.  34 

Chicago,  The  Hillbillies  Invade, 
Feb.  64 

Chicago,  Reforming  —  John  Kay 
Adams,  June  69 

CIA:  Who  Watches  the  Watch- 
man? —  Warren  Unna,  Apr.  46 

Clark,  Joesph  S.  —  Notes  on  Polit- 
ical Leaderhsip,  June  23 

Clarke,  Arthur  C.  —  Our  Dumb  Col- 
leagues, Feb.  32;  Standing  Room 
Only,  Apr.  54 

College,  If  Any,  How  to  Choose 
A  -  John  W.  Gardner,  Feb.  49 

Common  Sense  About  Alimony  — 
Hofstadter  and  Herzog,  May  68 

Congress   Honest,   How  to   Keep, 

May  14 

Country  Doctors  Catch  Up  — 
Marion  K.  Sanders,  Apr.  40 

COVER  DESIGNS 

Jan.  —  Merle  Shore 
Feb.  -  Roy  McKie 
Mar.  —  Burt  Goldblatt 
Apr.  —  Burt  Goldblatt 
May  — Alfred  Bendiner 
June  —  Robert  Osborn 


Crabill,  Col.  E.  B.  -  A  Combal  Vel 

(i. in  Sounds  Off,  Apr.   12 

Dialogi  i  or  Freud  &  Jung,  The  — 
Gerald  Sykes,  Mar.  66 

Divorce,  Max  68 

Doctors,  Coun  no  .  Apr.  40 

Donohue,  II.  E.  F.  —  Gentlemen's 
Game,  Mai .  59 

Drucker,  Peter  F.  -  Math  Even  Par- 
ents Can  Understand,  Apr.  7:5 

EASY  CHAIR,  THE 
— John  Fischer 

"Amerii  a,    I  he    I  rouble  with,"  Jan. 

12 
Campaign  Contributions,  May   17 
Combal  Veteran  Sounds  Off,    V    (by 

Col.  E.  B.  Crabill),  April  12 
Congress     Honest,     How     to     Keep, 

May  M 
Conversation  al  Midnight,  Jan.  12 
Eisenhower  Should  Resign,  Feb.  10 
Florian,  Father,  fan.  12 
I  ore<  asi   Eoi    a  ( Iheerful  Springtime, 

Mar.  11 
Intellectual,  Period  ol  the  Respected, 
Mar.  1  1 
Little    Rock,    Untold    Story    Behind 

(by  Harry  S.   ^shmore),  [une  10 
\\  ho's  in  Charge  Hoc:',  Feb.  10 

Engi  ish  Disease,  The  —  Noi  man 
Mat  Kenzie,  Apr.  69 

Falaise  Gap.  The  Guns  at  — Rich- 
ard  11.  McAcloo.  May  36 

Families  on  Wheels  —  Alvin  L. 
Schorr,  Jan.  71 

Fashions  in  Food  -  William  H. 
Adolph,  June  57 

Father  Eugene  and  the  Intelli- 
gence  Services  —  Alexis  Ladas, 
Mar.  72 

FICTION 

Friendly  Talk.  A  —  Storm  Jameson, 
[une  44 

Gentlemen's  Game  — H.  E.  F.  Dono- 
hue, Mar.  59 

(.iiv  in  Waul.  I,  I  lie  —  Leo  Rosten, 
Ma\   60 

Happy    Marriage  —  Joyce  Cary,  Apr. 

65 

Old    Boy    Who   Made  Violins,  An  - 

Hen  Maddow,  Feb.  55 
Waldo  —  Aubrey    Goodman,  Jan.   31 

FILLERS 

\ges  ill    \n\ici\ .  Mar.  77 
Athletic  s  vs.  Sc  ience,  Feb.  IX 
Child-Centered  Home.   June  54 
Chin  I  p.  Rons.  June,  26 
Depression  of  1858,   June  26 
Education,  Elementary,  Ma\  70 
Enlisted   Men  Only,  Foi .  Mar.  71 
Falaise     Cap.     the     Great      Killing 

(.round.  Ma)    15 
Hoboken,   Uranium   Ore  in,   Jan.  41 
Hounds  Across  the  Sea,  fan.  29 


Man   in  Cra\    Flannel   Kimono.    I  he, 

fune  lil 
Model  u    \i  t,  Api .  72 
Nol  with  a  Ban<;.  Feb.  .">.'< 
Protest    1  hat  Coi   Nowhere,  Mar.  36 
Star  from  Foui  to  Five,   I  he,   \pi    5  I 
1  urn  About  Is  Fair  Play,  Apr.  78 
l      S.  Government   and   the   Masses. 

Feb.  63 
Werewolf,"    Films    like    "1    \\  .is    a 

I  een  Age,"  June  32 
Women  and  Slaving  Husbands,  Mar. 

36 

Fischer,  John— 1  he  Easy  Chair,  Jan. 
12;  Feb.  10;  Mar.  14;  Ma)   I  I 

FOOD    Wl>  COOKING 

Fashions  in  Food,  June  57 
Paris  Restaurants,    \pi .  82 

FOREIGN    VFFAIRS 

Australia:  The  Innocent  Continent, 
fune  62 

Canadians  Vre  ["urning  Anti-Ameri- 
can, Max    Hi 

English    Disease    (Boredom).  Apr.  69 

Eugene,  Father,  and  the  Intelligence 
Sen u <s.  Mar.  72 

Europe,  Chance  to  Withdraw  Out 
I  mops  in,  Feb.  34 

West    Recover?,   How   Can   the,   M.n 

39 

Foi  r  Steps  ro  I  Iai  i  the  Slump  — 
Ross  M.  Robertson,  Api    3  I 

Frankenberg,  Lloyd  — A  Refusal  to 
Mom  n,  etc.,  Jan.  47 

Freud  and  Jung,  The  Diai  ogi  i  of, 
Mar.  66 

I  km  \ni  5  I  ai  is.  A  — Storm  Jameson, 
June   11 

Gallagher,  James  —  Levittown,  New 
York,  Feb.  80 

Gang   Thai    Went   Good,    The  — 

Dan  Wake  held,  June  .16 

Gardner,  John  W.  —  How  to  Choose 
a  College,  il  Any,  Feb.  49 

Gentlemen's  Game  —  H.  E.  F. 
Donohue,  Mar.  59 

Germany,  Feb.  34 

Goodman,  Aubrey  —  Waldo.  Jan.  31 

GOVERNMENT  AND   POLITICS 

Campaign  Contributions,  May  17 
Central  Intelligence  Agency,   \pi.   16 
Chicago  Politics,  Some,  June  69 
Congress  Honest,  How  to  Keep,  May 

14 
Eisenhower  Should  Resign,  Feb.  10 
Johnson,  Who  Is  Lyndon,  Mar.  53 
Nixon:    What    Kind    of    President?, 

Jan.  25 
Notes  on   Political   Leadership,   (une 

23 

Graves,    Robert  —  Augeias    and    I. 

June  35 

(day,  George  W.  —  New  Discoveries 
\bout  the  Birth,  Life,  and  Death 
of  the  Sun  and  Other  Stars.  Part  I: 
This  Hydrogen  Universe,  Mar.  29; 


Pari   II:  Stars  Forming,  Burning, 
and  Dying,  Api .  58 

( .Kin.  Martin  I  he  Iron  ( !oi sei 
on  Britain's  Spirit,  Jan.  64 

Guns  \i  Falaisi  Gap,  The  —  Rich- 
ard I).  Mi  \doo.  Ma)   36 

(.is  in  Ward  1,  The  -  Leo  Rosten, 
May  60 

Hammer,  l'hilene  —  And  I  Sav  the 
Hell  with  It.  Feb.  54 

1  I  \i'i'\  Mauri  xi.i  Joxce  ( iaiv.  Api. 
65 

Harper,  Mr.  —  Alter  I  lorn s,  Jan.  79: 
Feb.  80;  Mar.  86;  Apr.  80;  May  77; 
June  78 

Harvard  and  Tom  Wolfe,  Max  71 

Heisenberg,  Wernei  A  Scientist's 
Case  for  the  Classics,  Ma\  25 

Hentoll,  Nat  —  What's  Happening 
to  Jazz,  Apr.  25 

Herzog,  Arthur,  and  Hofstadter, 
Samuel  H.  —  Common  Sense 
About  Alimony,  May  68 

Hill    Climbing    by    Boat  — Joyce 

Warren.  May  51 

Hillbillies   Invadi    Chicago,   The 

—  Albert  N.  Votaw,  Feb.  64 

HISTORY 

Falaise  Cap,   I  he  Guns  at.  May  56 
Minnesota,  Lament  for,  May  57 

Hofstadter,  Samuel  II.  and  Arthur 
Herzog  —  Common  Sense  About 
Alimony,  May  68 

Hollywood,  What  Two  Lawyers 
Are  Doing  to  —  Murray  Teigh 
Bloom,  Feb.  42 

I  low  Frank  Lloyd  Wright  Got  His 
Medal  — Alfred  Bendiner,  May  30 

I  Iouarth,  Herbert  —  Montana:  the 
Frontier  Went   1  hataway,  Mar.  48 

Hughes,  Ted  -  Of  Cats,   June  30 

Hutchison,  Bruce  — Why  Canadians 
Are  Finning  Ami  American,  May 
46 

I  [ydrogen  Unix  erse.  This  —  George 
W  .  Gray,  Mar.  29 

ILLUSTRATORS 

Banlicrrv.    Frederick    F.  —  Australia: 

The  Innocent  Continent,  June  tYJ. 
Bendiner,  Alfred  — How  Frank  Lloyd 

Wright   Got    His   Medal.   Mas    30; 

Senatoi    Joseph  S.  Clark,  June  23; 

May  Cover  Design 
Binion.    Robert  —  Florence:    At    the 

Villa  Jernyngham,  Feb.  68 
Bodecker,  \.  M.  —  After  Hours,  fan. 

7');  Feb.  80;  Mar.  86;  Apr.  80;  Max 

77;  June  7X;    I  he  Easy  Chair,  fan,. 

I  I;  May  1  1 
Bryson,     Bernarda   -    I  he    Guv    in 

Ward  4,  May  60 
Cleveland,   Anne  —The  Work  Cure 

for  Women,  Apr.  33 


Gober,  Alan  —  Happy  Marriage,  Apr. 

65 
Domanska,    Janina  —  The    Old    Boy 

Who  Made  Violins,  Feb.  55 
Goldblatt,    Burt  —  Guns    at    Falaise 

Gap,  May  36;  What's  Happening 

to  Jazz,  Apr.  25;  March  and  April 

Cover  Designs 
Goodman,  Willard  —  Montana,  Mar. 

48 
Greenwald,     Sheila  —  Families     on 

Wheels,  Jan.  71 
Higgins,  Donald  —  Univac  to  Univac, 

Mar.  37 
Jones,  G.  Hunter  —  Budapest  String 

Quartet,  Mar.  78 
Keogh,  Tom  — A  Friendly  Talk,  June 

44 
Kuskin,    Karla  —  Fashions    in    Food, 

June  57 
Lloyd,    Peggy  —  Gentlemen's    Game, 

Mar.  59 
McDowell,    Barrie  — Hill    Climbing 

by  Boat,  May  51 
McKie,    Roy  —  What    Is   Advertising 

Good   for?,   Feb.   25;    Our   Dumb 

Colleagues,  Feb.  32;  .Letters  Col- 
umn, Mar.  4;  Easy  Chair,  Apr.  12; 

February  Cover  Design 
Mindell,  M.  T.  —  Father  Eugene  and 

the  Intelligence  Services,  Mar.  72 
Muni  —  Reforming  Chicago,  June  69 
Osborn,    Robert  —  Lyndon   Johnson, 

Mar.  55;  Lunar  World  of  Groucho 

Marx,  June  31;  June  Cover  Design 
Shahn,  Ben  —  Voyage  of  the  Lucky 

Dragon,  Jan.  48;  Feb.  72 
Shore,    Merle  —  San    Francisco,    Jan. 

38;  Jan.  Cover  Design 
Ungerer,  Tomi    —    Intercontinental, 

Jan.  62;  Standing  Room  Only,  Apr. 

54;  Easy  Chair,  Jan.  12 
Volk,   Vic  —  Country   Doctors  Catch 

Up,  Apr.  40 
Walker,    Charles    W.  —  Gang    That 

Went  Good,  June   36;   Hillbillies 

Invade  Chicago,  Feb.  64 
Wyatt,  Stanley  —  Waldo,  Jan.  31 

Intellectual,  Period  of  the  Re- 
spected American,  Mar.  14 

Intercontinental  —  Tomi  Ungerer, 
Jan.  62 

Iron  Corset  on  Britain's  Spirit, 
The  —  Martin  Green,  Jan.  64 

Jackson,  Katherine  Gauss  —  Books 
in  Brief,  Jan.  90;  Feb.  89;  Mar. 
104;  Apr.  94;  May  91;  June  90 

Jameson,  Storm  —  A  Friendly  Talk, 
June  44 

Japanese  Fishermen  and  Atomic 
Fallout,  Jan.   18;  Feb.  72 

Jazz  Notes  —  Eric  Larrabee,  May 
90;  June  96 

Jazz,  What's  Happening  to  —  Nat 
Hentoff,  Apr.  25 

Jet  Air  Liners,  The  New  —  Wolf- 
gang Langewiesche,  June  50 

Johnson?,  Who  Is  Lyndon  — Wil- 
liam S.  White,  Mar.  53 

Jung  and  Freud,  The  Dialogue  of, 
Mar.  66 


Juvenile  Delinquency,  Jan.  56; 
June  36 

Kennan,  George  F.  —  A  Chance  to 
Withdraw  Our  Troops  in  Europe, 
Feb.  34;  How  Can  the  Wc>t  Re- 
cover, Mar.  39 

King,  Lorna  Jean  —  The  Work  Cure 
for  Women,  Apr.  33 

Knight,  Vernon  —  Antibiotics:  Too 
Much  of  a  Good  Thing?,  Feb.  60 

Ladas,  Alexis  —  Father  Eugene  and 
the  Intelligence  Services,  Mar.  72 

Lament  for  Minnesota  —  Leona 
Train  Rienow,  May  57 

Langewiesche,  Wolfgang— The  New 
Jet  Air  Liners,  June  50 

Lapp,  Ralph  —  The  Voyage  of  the 
Lucky  Dragon,  Parts  II  and  III, 
Jan.  48;  Feb.  72 

Larrabee,  Eric  —  Jazz  Notes,  May 
96;  June  96 

Lattimore,  Richmond  —  The  Aca- 
demic Overture,  May  50 

LETTERS 

Jan.  6;  Feb.  4;  Mar.  4;  Apr.  6;  May 
4;  June  4 

Little  Rock,  Untold  Story  Behind 

—  Harry  S.  Ashmore,  June  10 

Los  Angeles  Architecture,  Mar.  90 

Lucky  Dragon,  The  Voyage  of  the, 
Jan.  48;  Feb.  72 

Lunar  World  of  Groucho  Marx, 
The  —  Leo  Rosten,  June  31 

MacKenzie,  Norman  —  The  English 
Disease,  Apr.  69 

Maddow,  Ben -An  Old  Boy  Who 
Made  Violins,  Feb.  55 

Man  in  the  Blue  Suede  Shoes,  The 

—  James  and  Annette  Baxter,  Jan. 

45 

Marx,  The  Lunar  World  of 
Groucho  —  Leo  Rosten,  June  31 

Math  Even  Parents  Can  Under- 
stand —  Peter  F.  Drucker,  Apr.  73 

Mayer,  Martin— The  Budapest 
Siring  Quartet,  Mar.  78;  What  Is 
Advertising  Good  For?,  Feb.  25 

McAdoo,  Richard  B.  —  The  Guns  at 
Falaise  Gap,  May  36 

MEDICAL  SCIENCE 

Antibiotics,  Feb.  60 

Country  Doctors  Catch  Up,  Apr.  40 

Minnesota,  Lament  for  —  Leona 
Train  Rienow,  May  57 

Montana:  The  Frontier  Went 
Thataway  —  Herbert  Howarlh, 
Mar.  48 

Movie  Industry,  Revolution  in 
the,  Feb.  42 


MUSIC 

Budapest  String  Quartet,  Mar.  78 
Disk  Jockey,  Long-Haired,  Mar.  86 
Harpsichord  with  the  Forward  Look, 

June  78 
Jazz  Notes,  May  95;  June  96 
"Jazz,  The  Sound  of,"  Feb.  81 
Jazz,  What's  Happening  to,  Apr.  25 
Presley,  Elvis,  Jan.  45 
Record    Review    Column,    Jan.    94; 

Feb.  92;  Mar.  108;  Apr.  100;  May 

95;  June  94 

National  Institutes  of  Health 
Center,  Jan.  56 

NATO,  Feb.  34;  Mar.  39 

NEGRO,  THE 

Untold  Story  Behind  Little  Rock, 
June  10 

NEW  ROOKS,  THE 

Paul  Pickrel,  Jan.  84;  Feb.  83;  Mar. 
92;  Apr.  84;  May  80;  June  82 

New  Discoveries  About  the  Birth, 
Life  and  Death  of  the  Sun  and 
Other  Stars  —  George  W.  Gray. 
Part  I:  This  Hydrogen  Universe, 
Mar.  29;  Part  II:  Stars  Forming, 
Burning,  Dying,  Apr.  58 

New  Jet  Air  Liners,  The  —  Wolf- 
gang Langewiesche,  June  50 

NEW  RECORDINGS,  THE 

Edward  Tatnall  Canby,  Jan.  94;  Feb. 
92;  Mar.  108;  Apr.  100;  May  95; 
June  94 

Nixon:  What  Kind  of  President? 
-  William  S.  White,  Jan.  25 

Notes  on  Political  Leadership  — 
Joseph  S.  Clark,  June  23 

Old  Boy  Who  Made  Violins,  An  — 
Ben  Maddow,  Feb.  55 

Otten,  Alan,  and  Charles  B.  Seib — 
Case  of  the  Furious  Children,  Jan. 
56 

Our  Dumb  Colleagues  —  Arthur  C. 
Clarke,  Feb.  32 

Paris  Restaurants,  Apr.  82 

PEOPLE 

Adolph,  William  H.,  June  20 
Benjamin,     Robert     S.,     Hollywood 

lawyer,  Feb.  42 
Challis,  John,  Modern  Harpsichords, 

June  78 
Dulles,   Allen   Welsh,   Director  CIA, 

Apr.  46 
Eisenhower,  Pres.,  Feb.  10 
Eugene,  Father,  Mar.  72 
Freud,  Sigmund,  Mar.  66 
Johnson,  Lyndon,  Mar.  53 
Jung,  Mar.  66 
Krim,  Arthur  B.,  Hollywood  lawyer, 

Feb.  42 
Marx,  Groucho,  Entertainer,  June  31 
McCarthy,  Senator  Joseph,  Jan.  26 
Moore,  Garry,  TV  performer,   June 

80 
Nixon,   Richard   M.,   Vice-President, 

Jan.  25;  Feb.  10 
Presley,  Elvis,  Entertainer,  Jan.  45 


Rcdl,  Dr.  Fritz,  Croup  therapist,  Jan. 

56 
Wolfe  1  homas,  writer,  May  71 
Wright,  Frank  Lloyd,  architect,  May 

30 

PERSONAL  &  OTHERWISE 

Adolph,  Dr.  William  H..  June  20 
Bound  lor  the  Eternal  Showers?.  Feb. 

20 
Classical  Languages,  May  21 
Lifeline.  June  20 
Pointers  for  Spies.  Apr.  20 
San  Franciscans,    I  he  New.  Jan.  21 
Statesmen,  Guide  for.  Mar.  24 
Taylor's  "  The  Statesman,"  Mar.  24 
Uncertainty  Principle,  May  21 

Philadelphia  Politics.  June  23 

Pickrel,  Paul— The  New  Books, 
Jan.  84;  Feb.  83;  Mar.  92;  Apr.  84; 
May  80;  June  82 

Play  Writing  and  Tom  Wolfe, 
May  71 

POETRY 

Academic  Overture,  The— Richmond 
Lattimore,  May  50 

And  I  Say  the  Hell  with  It  —  Philene 
Hammer.  Feb.  54 

Augeias  and  1  —  Robert  Graves,  June 
35 

Dunce's  Song— Mark  Van  Doren, 
Mar.  32 

Exchange  —  Miriam  Waddington, 
May  58 

Fable  for  Blackboard  —  George  Star- 
buck.  June  52 

Florence:  At  the  Villa  Jernyngham  — 
Osbert  Sitwell,  Feb.  68 

For  a  25th  Birthday  —  Thomas  Whit- 
bread,  Mar.  84 

Of  Cats -Ted  Hughes,  June  30 

Platform  Before  the  Castle  — Anne 
Goodwin  Winslow,  Apr.  38 

Refusal  to  Mourn,  Etc.  —  Lloyd 
Frankenbcrg,  Jan.  47 

Return  of  the  Native  — James  Rorty, 
Apr.  57 

Rural  Reflections  —  Adrienne  Rich, 
Mar.  57 

Song  —  Emilie  Bix  Buchwald,  Jan.  61 

Univac  to  Univac  — Louis  B.  Salo- 
mon. Mar.  37 

Politics,  Sec  Government  and  Pol- 
itics 

Population,  World,  Apr.  54 

Presley,  Elvis,  Jan.  45 

Psychoanalysis,  Mar.  06 

Puerto  Rican  Gangs  in  Harlem, 
June  36 

Recession,  Four  Steps  to  Halt  the, 
Apr.  34 

RECORDINGS,  THE  NEW 

Edward  Tatnall  Canby,  Jan.  94; 
Feb.  92;  Mar.  108;  Apr.  100;  May 
95;  June  95 

Reed.  Jr.,  Henry  Hope  — San  Fran 
cisco  Architecture,  Mar.  88 

Reforming  Chicago  —  John  Kay 
Adams,  June  69 


RELIGION 

lather  Eugene  and  the  Intelligence 
Services,  Mar.  72 

Rich,  Adrienne  —  Rural  Reflections, 
Mar.  57 

Rienow,  Leona  Train  —  Lament  lor 

Minnesota,  Max   57 

Robertson.  Ross  M.  —  Four  Sups  to 
Halt  the  Slump.  Apr.  34 

Root,   Waverly  —  Paris  Restaurants, 

Apr.  82 

Rorty.  James  —  Return  oi  the  Na- 
tive, Apr.  57 

Rosten,  Leo  — The  Guy  in  Ward  I. 
M.i\  00:  The  Lunar  World  of 
Groucho  Marx,  fune  5 1 

Salomon.  Louis  B.  —  Univac  to  LJni- 
vac,  Mar.  37 

Sanders.  Marion  K.  —  Country  Doc- 
tors Catch  Up,  Apr.  40 

San  Francisco  Architecture,  Mar. 

88 

San  Francisco:  New  Serpents  in 
Eden  —  Bruce  Bliven,  Jan.  38 

Schorr,  Alvin  L.  —  Families  on 
Wheels,  Jan.  71 

SCIENCE  AND  INVENTION 

Education  of  a  Scientist,  May  25 

Scientist's  Case  for  the  Classics,  A 
—  Werner  Heisenberg,  May  25 

Seib,  Charles  B.  and  Alan  L.  Otten 
-  The  Case  ol  the  Furious  Chil- 
dren, Jan.  56 

Sitwell,  Osbert  —  Florence:  At  the 
Villa  Jernyngham,  Feb.  68 

Slump,  Four  Steps  to  Halt  the  — 
Ross  M,  Robertson,  Apr.  34 

Southern  Hillbillies  Invade  Chi- 
cago, Feb.  6  1 

SOVIET  RUSSIA 

Chance  to  Withdraw  Our  Troops  in 

Europe.  A,  Feb.  34 
West    Recover?.   How  Can   the.  Mar. 

39 

Standing  Room  Only  —  Arthur  C. 
Clarke,  Apr.  54 

Starbuck,  George  —  Fable  for  Black- 
board, June  52 

Stars  Forming,  Burning,  Dying  — 
George  W.  Gray,  Apr.  58 

Sykes,  Gerald  — The  Dialogue  of 
Freud  and  Jung,  Mar.  66 

Teen-Age  Gang  Changes  Its  Ways, 
June  36 

TELEVISION 

Bound  for  the  Eternal  Showers?,  Feb. 

20 
"Jazz,    I  he  Sound  of,"  Feb.  81 
Moore,  Garry.  June  80 
"  roday,"  Apr.  80 

Trailer  Families.  Jan.  71 


Two  Hundred  Inch  Palomar  Tele- 
scope, Mar.  29 

Ungerer,  Tomi  —  Intercontinental, 

Jan.  62 

United  Artists,  Feb.  12 

UNITED  STATES 

Chicago.  Southern  Hillbillies  Invade, 

Feb.  (il 
Chicago,  Reforming,  June  09 
Little    Rock.    Untold   Story    Behind. 

June  10 
Minnesota,  Lament  Eor,  Ma)  57 
Montana,  Mai.  is 

Universe,   This  Hydrogen,  Mar.  29 

Unna.  Warren -CIA;  Who  Watches 
the  Watchman?,  Apr.   16 

Updike,  John— The  Menagerie  at 
Versailles  in  1775,  May  78 

Van    Doren.    Mark  —  Dunce's  Song, 

Mar.  32 

Veteran  Sounds  Oil,  A  Combat  — 
Col.  E.  B.  Crabill,  Apr.  12 

Votaw,  Albert  N.  —  The  Hillbillies 
Invade  Chicago,  Feb.  64 

Voyage  oi  mi  Lucky  Dragon,  The 
-  Ralph  E.  Lapp,  Jan.  48;  Feb.  72 

Waddington,  Miriam  —  Exchange, 

May  58 

Wakefield,  Dan  -  The  Gang  That 
Went  Good,  June  36 

Waldo  —  Aubrey  Goodman,  Jan.  31 

Warren,  Joyce  —  Hill  Climbing  by 
Boat,  May  51 

West  Recover?,  How  Can  the  — 
George  F.  Kennan,  Mar.  39 

What  Is  Advertising  Good  For?  — 
Martin  Mayer,  Feb.  25 

What's  Happening  to  Jazz  —  Nat 
Hentoff,  Apr.  25 

Whitbread,  Thomas  —  For  a  25th 
Birthday,  Mar.  84 

White,  William  S.  -  Nixon:  What 
Kind  of  President?,  Jan.  25;  Who 
Is  Lyndon  Johnson?,  Mar.  53 

Who  Is  Lyndon  Johnson?— William 
S.  White,  Mar.  53 

Winslow,  Anne  Goodwin— Platform 
Before  the  Castle,  Apr.  38 

Wolie  Writes  a  Play,  Tom  — 
Philip  W.  Barber,  May  71 

Work  Cure  for  Women,  The  — 
Lorna  Jean  King,  Apr.  33 

WORLD  WAR  II 

Guns  at  Falaise  Gap,  The,  May  36 

Wright  Got  His  Medal,  How 
Frank  Lloyd  —  Alfred  Bendiner, 
May  30 

WRITING  AND  PUBLISHING 

Books,  See  under 

Tom  Wolfe  Writes  a  Play,  May  71 


SIXTY  CENTS 


ESIDENT? 

William  S.  White 


Elvis:  The  Man  in  the 
Blue  Suede  Shoes 

James  and  Annette  Baxter 

The  Case  of  the 
Furious  Children 

Charles  B.  Seib  and 
Alan  L.  Otten 

The  Iron  Corset  on 
Britain's  Spirit 

Martin  Green 

Families  on  Wheels 

Alvin  L  Schorr 


SAN  FRANCISCO: 
NEW  SERPENTS 


iru 


•M  1 


fcfc 


DEWARS 

White  Label 

and  ANCESTOR 
SCOTCH  WHISKIES 


Famed  are  the  clans  of  Scotland 
. . .  their  colorful  tartans  worn  in  glory 
through  the  centuries.  Famous,  too, 
is  Dewar's  White  Label  and 
Ancestor,  forever  and  always  a 
wee  bit  o'  Scotland  in  a  bottle ! 


^0*1 


a&s. 


,:;;;»'        otch 


Witewort^f 


Piper  at  parade  rest 
Clan  Wallace  Tartan 


Both  86.8  Proof  Blended  Scotch  Whisky  ©  Schenley  Import  Corp.,  N,  Y. 


She  helps  people  find  the  products  and  services  they  want.  Mrs.  Vonna  Lou  Shelton,  telephone  representative 
in  Minneapolis,   Minn.,  checks  the  advertisements  that  business  men  have  placed  in  the  classified  directory. 


PHOTOGRAPHS  BY   ANSEL  ADAMS 


159144 
This  telephone  girl  is  a  big  help  to  businesses 


When  you  think  of  a  telephone  wo- 
man you  probably  think  of  the  opera- 
tor. But  there  are  many  other  women 
at  the  telephone  company  who  do 
important  jobs  for  you.  And  they, 
too,  have  the  "Voice  with  a  Smile." 

For  example,  Vonna  Lou  Shelton 
handles  a  very  necessary  service  in 
the  business  man's  world.  She  is  one 
of  many  women  throughout  the  coun- 
try who  help  different  concerns  plan 
and  place  their  advertising  in  tele- 
phone directory  Yellow  Pages. 

Friendliness,  good  judgment,  and 
follow-through  have  won  for  Mrs. 
Shelton  the  confidence  of  business 
men  who  appreciate  quick,  competent 
service  and  painstaking  efficiency. 


Vonna  Lou's  life  is  filled  with  peo- 
ple. Among  her  principal  off-the-job 
interests  are  her  husband  and  Sun- 
day School  class. 

She's  a  program  chairman  of  a 
missionary  society.  Sparks  many  a 
fund-raising  campaign.  Goes  to  col- 
lege to  study  piano  and  takes  lessons 
to  improve  her  golf. 

Like  so  many  folks  in  the  tele- 
phone company,  Mrs.  Shelton  has 
made  a  lot  of  friends— on  her  own, 
and  on  the  job. 

"I  don't  know  of  any  other  work," 
she  says,  "that  would  bring  me  so 
close  to  all  my  neighbors.  Our  cus- 
tomers get  to  think  of  us  as  their  per- 
sonal representatives.  I  like  that  a  lot." 


She  has  a  loyal  following  in  the  "younger 
set."  Mrs.  Shelton  has  a  ivay  with  the 
children  of  the  neighborhood  which  in- 
spires a  faithful  attendance  at  her  class 
in  Sunday  School. 


YEUOW  PAGES 


Working  together  to  bring  people  together  ...  BELL   TELEPHONE    SYSTEM 


HARPER    &    BROTHERS 
PUBLISHERS 

Chairman  of  the  Exei  Utive 
Committee:  casscaniteld 

Chan  man  of  I  hi-  Hoard: 
FRANK  S.  MACGREGOR 

President  and  Treasurer: 

RAYMOND  C.  HARWOOl) 

Secretary  and  Vice-President: 

WILLIAM  H.  ROSE,  JR. 

Vice-Presidents:  edward  j. 

TYLER,   JR.,  IK. 1  M    IWIAN, 
ORDWAY  T1.A1).  I) AMI  L  F.  BRADLEY 

Assistant  to  tin-  Publisher 
and  Circulation  Director: 

JOHN  JAY  HUGHES 


EDITORIAL     STAFF 

Editor  in  Chief:    john  fischer 
Managing  Editor:  russell  lynf.s 

Editors: 

KATHERINE  GAUSS  JACKSON 

ERIC  LARRABEE 

CATHARINE  MEYER 

ANNE  G.  I  REEDGOOD 

Editorial  Secretary:   rose  daly 
Editorial  Assistant: 

LUCY  DONALDSON 


ADVERTISING    DATA  :    consult 

Harper-Atlantic  Sales,  Inc. 

49  East  33d  Street,  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 

Telephone  MUrray  Hill  3-5225. 

ii  Mii'i  ii 's  m  m.  wine  issue  for 

Jan.  1958.    Vol.  216.    Serial   No.   1292. 

Copyright©  1957  by  Harper  &  Brothers 

in  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain. 

All  rights,  including  translation  into 

other  languages,  reserved  by  the 

Publisher  in   the  United   States,  Great 

Britain.  Mexico,  and  all  countries 

participating  in   the   International 

Copyright  Convention   and   the 

Pan-American   Copyright   Convention. 

Published   monthly  by   Harper  & 

Brolher-,  49  East  33d  Si.,  New  York  16, 

N.Y.  Composed  and  printed  in  the  U.S.A. 

by  union  labor  at  the  Williams  Press, 

99-129  North  Broadway,  Albany,  N.  Y. 

Entered  as  second-class  matter  at 

the  post  office  at  Albany,  N.  Y., 

under  the  Act  of  March  3,  1879. 

subscription  rails:  Ml£  per  copv: 

$6.00  one  year;    $11.00  two  years; 

$15.00   three  years.     Foreign    postage — 

except   Canada   and    Pan   America — 

$1.50  per  year  additional. 

chance  oi    ADDRESS:    Six  weeks' 

advance   notice,   and   old   address   as 

well  as  new.  are  necessary. 

Address  all  correspondence  relating 

to  subscriptions  to:   Subscription  Dept., 

49  East  33d  St.,  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 


Haroerl 


MAGA 


ZINE® 


JAM   AKY      [958 


VOL.    216,    NO.    1292 


ARTICLES 

25     Nixon:  What  Kind  of  President?,   William  S.  White 

38     San    Francisco:    New   Serpents   in    Eden,   Bruce   Bliven 
Map  by  Merle  shore 

45     Tin    \l  \n  in   mi    r,i  i  i   Si  nil   Shoes, 
James  and  Annette  Baxter 

48     The  Voi  u.i  <>i    mi   Luck\   Dragon,  Pari  II, 
Ralph  E.  Lapp 
Drawings  by  Hen  Shahn 

56      Tin   Casi  oi    mi    Furious  Children,  Charles  B.  Seib 
and  Alan   L.  Otten 

62     The  Intercontinental,  Tomi  Lingerer 

64     Tin:    Iron    Corsei    on    Britain's   Spirit,    Martin    Green 

71     Families  on  Whims,  Alvin  L.  Schorr 
Drawings   by  Sheila    Greenwald 

FICTION 

31     Waldo,  Aubrey  Goodman 

Drawings  by  SI  an  ley   Wyatt 

VERSE 

47     A  Refusal  to  Mourn,  etc.,  Lloyd  Erankenberg 
61     Song,  Einilie  Bix  Buchwald 

DEPARTMENTS 

6     Letters 

12     The  Editor's  Easy  Chair— Conversation  at  Midnight, 
John  Fischer 

Drawing  by  Tomi  Ungerer 

21      Personal  R;  Otherwise:  Among  Our  Contributors 

79     After  Hours,  Mr.  Harper 
Drawings  by  N.  M.  Bodecker 

84     The  New  Books,  Paul  Pickrel 

90     Books  in  Brief,  Katherine  Gauss  Jackson 

94     The  New  Recordings,  Edward  Tatnall  Canby 

COVER  by  Merle  Shoie 


You  may  often  have  considered  joining  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club  and 

now   is   a   particularly   advantageous   time.   For   you   can 

begin  with  one  of  the  most  highly  praised  novels  in  many 

years  ...  By  Love  Possessed,  by  james  gould  cozzens       3Q& 

...  or  with  any  of  the  other  books  listed  in  the  coupon. 


Special  price  (lo  members  only)  $3.95 


XI  ]  i 
COIJUMBIi 
KNCYCLO 

PEDIA 


As  a  beginning  member  you  will  receive,  ^jfCC,  your  choice  of 

ONE  OF  THESE  SETS  OR  REFERENCE  WORKS 


The 

Oxford 

Universal 

Dictionary 


THIRD  EDITION- 
REVISED  WITH 
I     ADDENDA 


IF  YOU  AGREE  TO  BUY  FIVE  ADDITIONAL  BOOKS  FROM  THE  CLUB 
IN  THE  NEXT  YEAR  FROM  OVER  100  THAT  WILL  BE  MADE  AVAILABLE 


THE  NEW  ILLUSTRATED  EDITION  OF  THE  COLUMBIA  ENCYCLOPEDIA 

Compili-il   at   Columbia  University    .    2302  pages    .    Thumb    Indexed 

RETAIL    PRICE       $35.00 

THE  OXFORD   UNIVERSAL  DICTIONARY  retail  price    $25.00 

2515  pages    •    *'The  best  English  dictl 

CHURCHILL'S  THE   SECOND  WORLD  WAR 

RETAIL    PRICE    (if    bought   separately)     $39.00 
All   six  volumes   of  Sir  Winston's  epic  history 
THE  OXFORD   REFERENCE   LIBRARY 

In  four  volumes  RETAIL  PRICES  TOTAL     $27.25 

THE  WORLD  OF  MATHEMATICS 

In  four  volumes,  boxed  RETAIL    PRICE     $20.00 

SANDBURG'S  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN— THE  WAR  YEARS 

RETAIL    PRICE      $36.00 

The  Pulitzer  Prize  winning   biography 


PRESS 


GOOD  SENSE:  A  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION.  There  are  at  least 
three  benefits  of  membership  in  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club  that  are 
beyond  question.  First,  you  get  the  books  you  want  to  read  instead 
of  missing  them  through  overbusyness  or  procrastination — books 
such  as  By  Love  Possessed  by  James  Gould  Cozzens,  and  other  ex- 
amples listed  in  the  coupon.  Second,  you  pay  an  average  of  20%  less 
for  them  than  otherwise.  Third,  you  share  in  more  than  $13,000,000 
worth  of  free  books  (retail  value)  now  distributed  annually  as  Book- 
Dividends.  This  offer  really  represents  "advanced"  Book-Dividends 
earned  by  the  purchase  of  the  books  you  engage  to  buy  later. 

>|c  The  books  you  agree  to  buy  later  can  be  chosen  from  at  least  100 
Club  Selections  and  Alternates  made  available  during  the  year. 

>)(  Each  month  you  receive  a  full  and  careful  report  about  the  next  Book- 
of-the-Month.  If  you  judge  it  is  a  book  you  would  not  enjoy,  you  may 
send  back  a  form  (always  provided)  specifying  some  other  book.  Or  you 
may  simply  say,  "Send  me  nothing." 

>f?  If  you  continue  after  this  trial,  you  will  receive  a  Book-Dividend, 
averaging  almost  $7  in  retail  value,  with  every  second  book  you  buy. 

5(c  Immediate  acceptance  is  advisable  if  you  are  interested  in  any  par- 
ticular set  or  volume. 


ANATOMY  OF  A   MURDER 

by    Robert  Trover 
Price  (to  member*  ovly)  $3.95 


□  ' 


(to  1 


A    HISTORY    OF    THE    ENGLISH- 
SPEAKING  PEOPLES 

by  Winston  S.  Churchill 
I:  The  Birth  of  Britain 

Price  (to  members  only)  $7t.50 
II:  The  New  World 

Price  (to  members  only)  $$.50 
III:  The  Age  of  Revolution 

Price  (to  members  only)  $£.50 
EARUCH  by  Margaret  L.  Coit 

Price  (to  members  only)  $/t.95 

□  A   STUDY  OF   HISTORY 
The  two-volume  abridgement  of  the 
Toynbee  work 

Price  (to  members  onln)  $5.95 

□   THE    LAST    ANGRY    MAN 
by  Gerald  Green 
Price  (to  members  only)  $3.95 


BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB,   Inc.  A3! 

345  Hudson  Street,  New  York  14,  N.  Y. 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  member  of  the  Brmk-of-the-Month  Club*  ana  send.  free,  the 
work  I  have  Indicated  below  with  the  purchase  of  my  first  selection,  indicated  above. 
I  agree  to  purchase  at  least  five  additional  monthly  Selections — or  Alternates — during 
the  first  year  I  am  a  member.  Thereafter  I  need  buy  only  four  such  books  in  any 
twelve-month  period  to  maintain  membership.  I  have  the  right  to  cancel  my  member- 
ship any  time   after  buying    six  Club  choices.    After    my   sixth  purchase,    if  I   continue, 

I  am  to  receive  a  Book-Dividend*  with  every  second  Selection — or  Alternate 1  buy. 

(A  small  charge  Is  added    to  cover   postage  and  mailing  expenses.) 

PLEASE  NOTE:  A  "Double  Selection" — or  a  set  of  books  offered  to  mem- 
bers  at   a  special  combined  price is  counted  as  a  single    book   in   reckon- 
ing   Book-Dividend    credit,     and    in    fulfilling    the    membership    obligation. 
PLEASE    SEND     ME,    WITH     MY    FIRST    PURCHASE    SPECIFIED    ABOVE 


Mr.    ) 

(Choose  o 

ic  of  the  reference 

vQrks  or  sets  illustrated  above) 

Miss  J 

(Pleas 

6  print  plainly) 

City Zone  No State 

Books    for    Canadian    members    are    priced    slightly    higher,    are    shipped    from 
Toronto  duty  free,   and  may  be  paid   for  in   cither  U.S.   or    Canadian  currency. 


^Trademark  Reg.  U.S.  Pat  Off.  and  in  Canada 


RCA  VICTOR  and  Book-of-the-Month  Club 

announce  a  project  of  unique  importance  to  anybody  who  ever  buys 

A  SENSIBLE  WAY  TO  BUILD  UP  YOUR 
RECORD  LIBRARY~at  an  immense  saving 


Uhe  CRG7L  Victor  sSociety  j)f  (jreat  EMusic 

...  its  common-sense  purpose  is  to  help  serious  lovers  of  music 
build  up  a  fine  record  library  systematically  instead  of  haphaz- 
ardly. By  doing  so,  they  can  save  almost  one  third  of  what  they 
would  pay  otherwise  for  the  same  rca  Victor  Red  Seal  Records. 


MOST  music-lovers,  in  the  back  of 
their  minds,  certainly  intend  to 
build  up  for  themselves  a  representa- 
tive record  library  of  the  World's  Great 
Music.  Unfortunately,  almost  always 
they  are  haphazard  in  carrying  out  this 
aspiration.  The  major  features  of  this 
new  plan  are: 

5J<  It  is  adaptable  to  the  needs  of  every 
music-loving  family;  that  is,  the  ultimate 
record  collection  can  be  as  modest  or  as 
extensive  as  one  wishes,  and  it  can  be 
acquired,  unit  by  unit,  slowly  or  rapidly. 

>^c  Because  of  more  systematic  collec- 
tion, with  the  large  membership  ex- 
pected, operating  costs  can  be  greatly 
reduced,  thus  permitting  extraordinary 
economies  for  the  record  collector.  The 
remarkable   Introductory  Offer  at  the 


right  is  designed,  really,  as  a  dramatic 
demonstration  of  this.  It  represents  a 
45%  saving  in  the  first  year. 

>|c  Thereafter,  by  means  of  "record- 
dividends,"  continuing  members  will  be 
able  to  build  their  lifetime  record  library 
at  almost  a  ONE-THIRD  SAVING.  For 
every  two  records  purchased  (from  at 
least  fifty  made  available  annually  by 
the  Society)  members  will  receive  a 
third  rca  Victor  Red  Seal  Record  free. 

?|c  A  cardinal  feature  of  the  plan  is 
GUIDANCE.  Where  does  one  start?  What 
works  of  music  would  be  considered  at 
least  the  nucleus  of  a  well-balanced 
record  library?  The  Society  has  a  Selec- 
tion Panel  whose  sole  business  it  is  to 
determine  "must-have"  works  for  mem- 
bers. This  Panel  is  under  the  chairman- 


RCA  VICTOR  ARTISTS  LIKE  THESE  WILL  BE  REPRESENTED  IN  THE   FIRST  YEAR'S  RECORDINGS 


ship  of  DEEMS  TAYLOR,  the  noted  com- 
poser and  commentator.  Other  members 
include  JACQUES  BARZUN,  author  and 
music  critic,  SAMUEL  CHOTZINOFF, 
General  Music  Director,  NBC;  JOHN  M. 
CONLY,  editor  of  High  Jidelity,  AARON 
COPLAND,  composer,  ALFRED  FRANKEN- 
STEIN, music  critic  of  the  San  Jrancisco 
Chronicle;  DOUGLAS  MOORE,  composer 
and  Professor  of  Music,  Columbia  Uni- 
versity; WILLIAM  SCHUMAN,  composer 
and  president  of  the  Juilliard  School  of 
Music;  CARLETON  SPRAGUE  SMITH, 
chief  of  the  Music  Division,  New  York 
Public  Library;  and  G.  WALLACE  WOOD- 
WORTH,  Professor  of  Music,  Harvard 
University.  Any  work  of  music  recom- 
mended by  such  a  group  certainly  be- 
longs in  any  representative  collection. 

HOW  THE  SOCIETY  OPERATES 

T7ACH  month  three  or  more  rca  VlO 
*-'  tor  Red  Seal  Records  will  be  an- 
nounced and  described  to  members  in  a 
little  publication,  Great  Music,  sent 
without  charge.  One  will  always  be 
singled  out  as  the  record-of-tbe-montb, 
and  unless  the  Society  is  otherwise  in- 
structed (on  a  simple  form  always  pro- 
vided), this  record  will  be  sent  to  the 
member. 

If  the  member  already  owns  the  work 
in  a  satisfactory  recording,  he  may  speci- 
fy that  one  of  the  alternate  records  be 
sent  to  him.  Or  he  is  free  to  instruct  the 
Society  to  send  him  nothing. 

For  every  record  purchased,  members 
will  pay  no  more  than  the  nationally  ad- 
vertised price  of  rca  Victor  Red  Seal 
Records  at  the  time  (plus  a  small  charge 
for  postage  and  handling) . 

PLEASE  NOTE:  If  desired,  member- 
ship may  be  taken  out  not  only 
directly,  but  through  any  author- 
ized rca  Victor  dealer. 


classical  records 


5^^®^^^S^S^E3^ 


AS  THE  HEART  AND  CORE  OF  A 

LIFETIME   RECORD   LIBRARY 

BEGINNING  MEMBERS   WILL   RECEIVE 

The  Nine 
Beethoven 


Symph 


onies 


CONDUCTED  BY 


Jirturo 


Tos 


camm 


WITH  THE  NBC  SYMPHONY  ORCHESTRA 

IN  AN  ALBUM  OF  SEVEN  12-INCH 
LONG-PLAYING  RECORDS  FOR 


$298 

-plus  a  small  charge  for  postage 


Nationally  advertised  price:  $34.98*  I 


THE  SOLE  CONDITION   IS  THAT 
BEGINNING    MEMBERS     AGREE 
TO   BUY  SIX   RCA  VICTOR   RED 
SEAL   RECORDS   FROM   THE 
SOCIETY  WITHIN  THE  NEXT 
TWELVE  MONTHS 


RCA  VICTOR  Society  of  Great  Music,  c/o  Book-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc.,  345  Hudson  Street,  New  York  14 
Please  register  me  as  a  member  of  The  RCA  Victor  Society  of  Great  Music  and  send  me  im- 
mediately the  seven-record  album  of  Toscanini  Conducting  the  Nine  Beethoven  Symphonies, 
billing  me  $3.98,  plus  a  small  postage  charge.  I  agree  to  buy  six  additional  records  within  twelve 
months  from  those  made  available  by  the  Society,  for  each  of  which  I  will  be  billed  at  the  price 
nationally  advertised  at  the  time  (plus  a  small  charge  for  postage  and  handling).  Thereafter,  if  I 
continue,  for  every  two  records  I  purchase  from  the  Society,  I  will  receive  a  third  rca  Victor  Red 
Seal  Record,  free.  After  my  sixth  purchase,  I  need  buy  only  four  records  a  year  from  the  Society 
to  maintain  membership.  y«  1 

Mr.     } 

Mrs.   )■  


Miss   ) 
Address.. 


!  print  plainly) 


Ity.. 


Zone State 

NOTE:  If  you  wish  to  enroll  through  an  authorized  rca  Victor  dealer,  please  rill  In  here: 


DEALER'S  NAME 

ADDRESS CITY.. 


'I     I 


..ZONE STATE.. 


LETTERS 


Moses:  Attack  and  Defense 


To  the  Editors: 

"The  Civil  Defense  Fiasco"  [Nov.]  by 
Robert  Moses  was  a  disturbing  article. 
.  .  .  The  most  alarming  trend  in  the 
current  situation  is  that  we  arc  rapidly 
approaching  a  condition  in  America, 
and  probably  in  Russia,  in  which  less 
than  one  per  cent  of  the  national  popu- 
lation would  survive  an  all-out  orgy  of 
nuclear  and  biological  warfare.  .  .  .  It 
takes  quite  a  sophisticated  shelter  to 
withstand  100  psi  overpressure,  2.000 
r/hr.  fallout,  and  fifty  different  kinds  of 
disease  germs.  However,  some  of  these 
shelters  are  in  existence  for  parts  of  the 
military,  high  government  officials,  and 
certain     industrial     installations.     .     .     . 

Human  nature  being  what  it  is,  it  re- 
quires no  stretch  of  the  imagination  to 
realize  that  an  American  or  Russian 
official  or  commander  is  going  to  be 
much  less  hesitant  about  engaging  in 
nuclear  war  if  he  knows  that  he  per- 
sonally, and  his  family,  arc  going  to 
come  out  of  it  alive.  In  fact  it  is  neces- 
sary to  consider  the  possibility  that  his 
"pioneering"  instinct  will  be  aroused 
and  that  he  will  subconsciously  have  vi- 
sions of  himself  and  a  lew  thousand 
others  inheriting  a  waiting  and  unin- 
habited world,  completely  to  them- 
selves. .  .  .  This  is  known  as  the  Noah's 
Ark  complex.  Jim   Deer 

Portland,   Oregon 

Commissioner  Robert  Moses  .  .  - 
makes  a  number  of  demonstrably  in- 
valid statements  which  display  his  utter 
lack  of  awareness  of  the  basis  and  rea- 
soning underlying  civil  defense  think- 
ing and  the  proposals  of  the  Holifield 
Committee.  (.  .  .  highly  qualified  ex- 
perts suggest  that  the  adoption  of  the 
Holifield  proposals  would  give  people 
in  the  center  of  the  aiming  area  in  Los 
Angeles,  perhaps  our  most  vulnerable 
large  city,  96  chances  out  ol  100  of 
survival.) 

.  .  .  Mr.  Moses'  real  concern  appears 
to  be  merely  that  adequate  civil  defense 
would  upset  our  present  procedures; 
possibly  Ethelred  the  Unready  rejected 
the  counsel  of  those  advisers  who  sug- 
gested that  some  measure  of  prepared- 
ness would  be  wise  on  the  same  grounds. 
.  But  both  deserve  to  Ik-  called 
irresponsible  because  they  wotdd  not  see 


foreign  policy  as  interdependent  with 
home  defense. 

Moses  even  misunderstands  the  entire 

purpose  of  civil  defense:  he  says  it  is 
supposed  to  terrify  the  Russians;  of 
course,  ii  is  not  supposed  to  do  any- 
thing ol  the  sort;  ii  is  supposed  i ake 

it  harder  lor  the  Russians  lo  terrify  us 
(and  if  we  are  huk\.  perhaps  make  it 
less  necessary  for  us  to  try  to  terrif) 
them,  thus  reducing  the  likelihood  of 
war  through  simple  miscalculation)  .... 

ROBl  RT   MARDEN   and    LEWIS  A.  DEXTER 

Civil  Defense    Vgency, 

Commonwealth  ol    Massachusetts 

Hurrah  for  Robert  Moses!  I  think 
the  public  apathy  toward  civil  defense 
he  mentions  is  obviously  a  result  of  the 
fact  that  people  have  realized  lor  a 
long  time  that  most  civil  defense  plans 
wouldn't   work.    .    .   . 

Hi  try  Lou   Frost 
Long  Beach,  Calif. 

Robert  Moses  incorrectly  named  the 
Federal  Civil  Defense  Administration 
as  "chief  sponsor"  of  HR  2125,  which 
would  authorize  a  national  shelter  pro- 
gram, and  ciilici/ed  this  ageno  for 
making  such  a  proposal.  Actually, 
FCDA's  legislative  proposals  are  con- 
tained in  HR  7570.  which  was  passed 
by  the  House  of  Representatives  during 
the  last  session  of  Congress  and  is 
scheduled  lor  Senate  consideration  in 
the  coming  session.  This  bill  contains 
provisions  which  we  believe  will 
strengthen  and  modernize  the  national 
civil  deiense  structure.  .  .  . 

HR  7576  does  not  provide  tor  a 
national  shelter  program.  Much  re- 
search on  a  shelter  program  has  been 
conducted,  however,  and  the  Executive 
Branch  ol  the  government  has  given 
and  is  continuing  to  give  this  subject 
considerable    study. 

Leo  A.   Hoegh 

Federal  Civil  Defense  Administration 
Washington,  D.  C. 


Historical    Note 

A    star    lell    on    a    small    town 
In  oui    State— 

"Fell    on     Alabama"    as    it    were. 
It   was   not    the   lust    time 

(There's    a    song    by    the    same    name) 
Jim    it    is   the    lust   time   a   star 
lln    a   woman. 

\nd     she     had     bruises    and     contusions 
To  show   for   it. 

She    was    only    a     tenant    on     the    place 

Where    the    star    lell 

And    the   owner   claimed   it   as 

His    property    when    he    arrived; 

He  looked  about,  sheepish  and 

important 
Since    no    one    had    ever   before 
Found    a    star   on    his   place. 

It  made  the  woman  angry,  so  she 
Sued    lor   damages— "See    this    scar?" 
I;    has  not    yet   been   settled 
For   there    seemed    to    be   no   precedent 
In    the   law-courts  for  damages 
Even   to  a  woman,  victim  of  a 
lading    star    .    .    . 

Lulie  Hard  McKinley 
Birmingham,  Alabama 


Falling  Stars 

To  the  Editors: 

Poets  respond,  as  a  rule,  to  the  same 
stimuli,  so  it  is  not  altogether  surpris- 
ing for  a  poet  to  find  his  sentiments 
expressed  by  another  poet.  ...  I  read 
with  delight  William  Stafford's  "Star  in 
the  Hills"  in  the  November  Harper's, 
more  particularly  as  it  seemed  to  be  in 
the  same  mood  as  my  lines  that  follow. 
Let  us  have  more  of  Mr.  Stafford,  please. 


Inhabited  Stars? 

To  the  Editors: 

Mr.  Clarke  asks  "Where's  Everybody?". 
The  answer  should  be  obvious.  As  the 
civilizations  on  other  planets  passed  a 
few  years  beyond  our  present  stage  of 
A-bombs  and  H-bombs,  rockets  and 
missiles,  they  blew  themselves  to  bits. 
That's  where  everybody  is. 

Nelson  R.  Eldred 
South    Charleston,   West    Va. 

A  slight  correction  should  be  made 
to  Arthur  C.  Clarke's  delightful  article. 
Einstein's  Theory  of  Special  Relativity, 
which  postulates  the  speed  of  light  to 
be  the  maximum  speed  attainable  by 
anything,  also  states  that  a  traveler  who 
wants  to  reach  a  star,  say,  five  light- 
years  away,  can  get  there  by  his  own 
standards,  in  a  time  less  than  five  years. 
The  catch  is  that  the  scale  of  time  is 
different  lor  an  earthbound  observer 
looking  at  the  spaceship  and  for  a 
passenger  traveling  in  the  spaceship. 
In  fact,  il  the  spaceship  travels  at  600 
million  miles  per  hour,  it  will  reach  the 
star  five  light-years  away  in  a  time 
which  will  be  only  two  years  for  the 
passenger,  although  it  will  be  a  little 
over  five  years  when  measured  by  an- 
other observer  stationed  on  the  earth. 
Similarly,  traveling  at  663  million  miles 
an  hour,  the  spaceship  will  reach  the 
same  star  in  nine  months  if  time  is 
measured  by  one  of  its  passengers.  Thus 
there     is     no    limit    set    by     the    finite 


Exclusive 


with  the 


Marboro  Book  Club 


¥f  An  International 
Sensation  . .  . 


By  exclusive  arrangement  with  Ivar  Lissner's  publishers  in  Europe  and 
America,  THE  LIVING  PAST  has  been  designated  as  a  selection  of  the 
MARBORO  BOOK  CLTJB.  "An  utterly  enthralling  book,  a  bestseller 
throughout  Europe,  and  fully  comparable  in  every  way  to  Gods,  Graves  &. 
Scholars.  Astonishingly  researched,  vividly  written.  I  urge  this  book  on 
every  reader  who  wants  to   flex  his  mind  and  exercise  his  imagination" 

— Saturday  Review 


You  can  have  any  O  of     ^^ 75 
the  books  shown  for  only  *J :  mb 


VJhoose  from  THE  LIVING  PAST-BEING  AND  NOTHINGNESS 
-SELECTED  WRITINGS  OF  JIMENEZ  (Nobel  Prize  winner)- 
OF  LOVE  AND  LUST— and  eight  other  important  books  as  your  intro- 
duction to  membership  in  the  MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB. 

THE  living  past  is  much  more  than  an  unprecedented  international  best- 
seller. Hailed  by  archaeologists,  anthropologists,  literary  and  art  critics 
alike,  it  is'a  totally  new  kind  of  illustrated  book  about  the  magnificent  and 
terrifying  past  we  call  Ancient  History.  Brilliant,  idol-smashing,  ency- 
clopedic, it  brings  to  life  each  of  man's  earliest  attempts  at  civilization- 
some  of  them  brutal,  some  inspiring,  some  depraved— frpm  Thebes  to 
Tahiti,  from  Jerusalem  to  Japan,  from  Persia  to  Peru.  Nothing  you  have 
ever  read  before  can  have  prepared  you  for  its  excitement  and  its  sur- 
prises. Translated  into  12  languages,  it  is  now  published  in  America  at  $5.95. 
To  demonstrate  the  values  that  discerning  readers  can  expect  from  the 
marboro  book  club,  we  offer  you  any  3  books  on  this  page  (including 
THE  living  past,  if  you  wish)  all  for  about  one-half  what  you  would 
ordinarily  expect  to  pay  for  the  living  past  alone. 

This  is  no  ordinary  offer.  Never  before  have  current  books  of  such 
stature  been  made  available  at  so  low  a  price.  But,  of  course,  this  is  no 
ordinary  book  club. 

THE  marboro  book  club  was  established  expressly  for  those  of  you  who 
make  up  your  own  minds  about  books— men  and  women  who  know  good 
books,  want  good  books,  and  read  so  many  that  today's  high  cost  of  reading 
has  become  a  problem.  It  pools  your  buying  power  with  that  of  others  who 
share  your  tastes,  and  brings  you  savings  never  before  possible  on  the 
books  you  prefer. 

With  each  four  selections  (or  alternates)  accepted  at  Special  Member's 
Prices,  you  also  receive  a  superlative  bonus  volume  of  your  choice  at  no 
additional  charge.  You'll  soon  find  that  savings  average  more  than  50% 
on  the  self-same  books  you  would  have  purchased  at  regular  prices. 
How  many  of  the  books  listed  below  have  you  wanted  to  read?  Reach  for 
a  pencil  right  now  and  check  off  any  three  you  want.  They're  yours  for 
only  $3.75  with  an  introductory  membership  in  the  marboro  book  club. 
That's  a  saving  of  as  much  as  $20.00  on  regular  bookstore  prices. 
Mail  the  application  form  today,  while  this  exclusive  offer  lasts. 


Choose  any  3  of  these  books  for  $3.75  with  Introductory  Membership  in  the  MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB!  Mail  your  application  today. 


0  THE  LIVING  PAST.  By  Ivar  Lissner. 
Brings  triumphantly  to  life  the  great 
discoveries  of  archaeology,  anthro- 
pology, and  comparative  religion. 
508  pages,  including  G4  pp.  of  fabu- 
lous photographs  —  sculpture,  idols, 
architecture,  costumes,  &  other  treas- 
ures of  antiquity.       list  price  $5.95 

□  OF  LOVE  AND  LUST.  By  Theodor 
Reik.  Freud's  most  famous  pupil 
analyzes  the  hidden  nature  of  mas- 
culinity and  femininity,  normal  and 
perverse,  in  romantic  love,  in  mar- 
riage, parenthood,  bachelorhood,  and 
spinsterhood.  lijf  Price  S7.50 

Q  LAST  TALES.  By  Isak  Dinesen. 
Twelve  new  tales  of  compelling 
beauty  and  enchantment  by  the  author 
of  Seven  Gothic  Tales.  "A  touch 
that's  magic  .  .  .  rure  delight."  — 
N.  Y.  Times  List  Price  $4.00 

O  MASS  CULTURE.  Ed.  by  Rosenberg 
&  White.  Monumental,  'wickedly -re- 
vealing portrait  of  the  "Lonely 
Crowd"  at  play.  David  Riesman, 
Edmund  Wilson.  Dwight  MacDonald 
and  other  distinguished  scholars  de- 
scend upon  the  "popular"  arts  with 
diabolical  zest.  List  Price  $6.50 


O  SELECTED  WRITINGS  OF  JUAN 
RAMON  JIMENEZ.  First  representa- 
tive cross-section  of  prose  and  poems 
by  the  191)6  Nobel  Prize  Winner,  in- 
cluding writings  never  before  pub- 
lished in  book  form.  List  Price  $4.75 

□  BATTLE  FOR  THE  MIND.  By  Dr. 
William  Sargent.  How  evangelists, 
psychiatrists,  and  brain-washers  can 
change  your  beliefs  and  behavior. 
"Every  page  is  full  of  lively  inter- 
est."— Bertrand  Russell. 

List  Price   $4.50 

□  THE  CLOWNS  OF  COMMERCE.  By 
Walter  Goodman.  An  Irreverent  in- 
vestigation of  Madison  Avenue's 
professional  "persuaders,"  and  how 
they  are  deceived  by  their  own 
"campaigns."  Hilarious,  merciless, 
and  every  word  is  true. 

List  Price   $4.95 

□  RELIGION  AND  THE  REBEL.  By 
Colin  Wilson,  author  of  The  Out- 
sider. "The  idea  behind  it  is  one  of 
the  most  important  in  Ihe  thought  of 
our  time,  the  most  effective  challenge 
to  materialistic  philosophy  yet  con- 
ceived."—  N.  Y.  Times. 

list  Price  $4.00 


a  BEING  AND  NOTHINGNESS.  By 
Jean-Paul  Sartre.  Sartre's  Philoso- 
phy of  Being,  including  his  views  on 
social  relations,  his  doctrine  of  free- 
dom, and  existential  psychoanalysis. 
635  pages.  List  Price  $10.00 

D  MAKERS  OF  THE  MODERN  WORLD. 
By  Louis  Untermeyer.  800-page  en- 
cyclopedia of  the  92  men  and  women 
who  created  the  thought  and  taste 
of  our  time — from  Proust  to  Einstein. 
Roosevelt  &  Stravinsky.  The  modern 
Plutarch's  Lives,     tisf  Price  $6.50 


D  NEW  OUTLINE  OF  MODERN 
KNOWLEDGE.  Ed.  by  Alan  Pryce- 
Jones.  A  liberal  education  in  one 
giant  620-page  volume  covering  the 
full  range  of  modern  knowledge  from 
atomic  physics  to  psychiatry. 

tisf  Price   $6.50 


□  THE  DEAD  SEA  SCROLLS.  By 
Millar  Burrows.  Complete  account  of 
the  great  archeological  finds,  with 
new  translations  and  a  study  of  their 
contribution  to  our  biblical  knowl- 
edge. 435  pp.  List  Price  $6.50 


MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB 

222  Fourth  Avenue,  New  York  3,  N.  Y. 

You  may  enroll  me  as  a  new  member  of  the  Marboro 
Book  Club.  Please  send  me  the  THREE  books  checked 
at  the  left  at  only  $3.75  plus  shipping  for  all  three. 
Forthcoming  selections  and  alternates  will  be  described 
to  me  in  a  Monthly  Advance  Bulletin  and  I  may  decline 
any  book  simply  by  returning  the  printed  form  always 
provided.  I  agree  to  buy  as  few  as  four  additional 
books  (or  alternates)  at  the  reduced  Member's  Price 
during  the  next  twelve  months;  and  I  may  resign  at  any 
time  thereafter.  I  will  receive  a  free  BONUS  BOOK 
for  every  four  additional  books  I  accept. 


CITY- 


_ZONE STATE- 


(Memberships  available  only  in  continental  V.  S.  and 
Canada.  Prices  sliphtly  higher  in  Canada.)  (  MH-255) 
GUARANTEE:  If  you  are  not  completely  satisfied  with  J 
this  SPECIAL  OFFER,  you  may  return  the  books . 
within  7  days  and  your  membership  will  be  cancelled. 


PORTS 

Jrom  Portugal 


SHERRIES 

,//v//i  Spain 


® 


SANDEMAN 

ESTABLISHED    IN   THE    YEAR    1790 


mported  by  W.  A.  TAYLOR  &  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y.  Sole  Distributors  for  the  U.  S.  A. 


For  Thrift  Season  savings 


ITALIAN  TOURIST  ECONOMY  PLAN  _ 

CORTINA     D'AMPEZZO 

A  richly  varied  holiday  awaits  you  in  Italy  .  .  .  superb  winter  sports  in 
magnificent  mountain  resort  centers  .  .  .  picturesque  seaside  towns  basking 
in  a  sunny,  kindly  climate  ...  a  brilliant  winter  program  of  social  life, 
concerts,  opera.  And  you  can  enjoy  it  all  now  at  a  remarkably  low  cost 
with  the  thrifty 

I.T.E.  PLAN,  AVAILABLE  TO  AMERICAN  VISITORS  ONLY 

BUYING  IN  ADVANCE  THROUGH  TRAVEL  AGENTS  HERE  IN  U.  S., 

UNTIL  MARCH  15,  1958 

.  .  .  together  with  reduced  Family  Plan  transatlantic  fares.  The  I.T.E.  Plan 
provides  a  20%  reduction  on  ordinary  rail  and  other  transportation  tickets 
.  .  .  secures  hotel  accommodations  at  10%  discount  .  .  .  and  saves  10%  on 
listed  restaurant  and  night  club  bills.  Also  the 

INCLUSIVE  TOURS 

sold  only  through  Travel  Agents,  make  available 

SPECIAL  REDUCED  RATES 

for  transatlantic  transportation  and 

other  facilities   in   Italy.   See  your 

Travel   Agent   now! 

ITALIAN  STATE  TOURIST  OFFICE— E.N.IT. 


CHICAGO 
333  N.  Michigan  Ave. 


21  East  51st  Street,  New  York  22,  N.  Y. 


NEW  ORLEANS 
International  Trade  Mart 


SAN  FRANCISCO 
St   Francis  Hotel 


LETTERS 

human  life  span  on  the  distance  which 
can   be   explored   in   space. 

Mil  HAEL     |.    MORAVCSIK 

Patchogue,  New  Yoi  k 

This  is  correct,  and  I've  developed 
the  idea  in  many  other  articles  and 
stories,  hm  I  felt  "Where's  Everybody" 
was  already  long  enough  without  getting 
into  Relativity!  Arthur  C.  Ci  \kki. 
New  York,  N.  V. 


Observed  Stars 

To  the  Editors: 

In  "Inside  Samarkand"  in  your  No- 
vember issue.  John  Gunther  lists, 
among  the  sights  ol  that  eit\:  "The 
Observatorv  .  .  .  built  by  the  Emperor 
Mir/a  Ulugbek  .  .  .  [is]  indication  that, 
even  in  Central  Asia  in  the  fifteenth 
century,  men  had  lively  scientific  minds 
and  did  useful  work."  "Useful  work" 
indeed!  Tin's  is  inexcusably  faint  praise 
for  a  man  who  was  using  a  telescope 
almost  200  years  before  Galileo  invented 
that   instrument.  Ilium  ki    L.  Cross 

Dayton,   Ohio 


Battle  of  Copenhagen 

To  the  Editors: 

It  is  surprising  to  find  so  accomplished 
a  raconteur  as  Sir  Harold  Nicolson 
mangling  one-  ol  the  famous  anecdotes 
>l  English  naval  history.  But  he  does 
exactly  this  when  he  remarks  in  the 
November  Harper's  [Easy  Chair]:  "It 
i^  said  that  Nelson,  when  about  to 
destroy  the  Danish  fleet  at  Copenhagen, 
placed  his  telescope  to  his  blind  e\c-  in 
order  not  to  see-  the  signals  ol  surrender 
which    fluttered    from    their    masts." 

Mahan  tells  the  story,  quoting  the 
narrative  ol  I.t.  Col.  William  Stewart 
in  his  Life  <>\  Nelson.  Nelson  at  Copen- 
hagen was  second  in  command  to  Sir 
Hyde  Parker  and  commanded  the  de- 
tached squadron  while  Sir  Hyde's  main 
body  stood  by  to  the  north.  Success 
not  coming  easily.  Sir  Hyde  determined 
to  break  oil  the  action,  and  signaled 
accordingly.  "When  the  signal.  No.  39, 
was  madc\  the  Signal  Lieutenant  re- 
ported it  to  Lord  Nelson.  He  con- 
tinued  his  walk,  and  did   not  appear   to 

take   notice  of  it \lter  a    turn   or 

two.  he  said  to  me  in  a  cjuick  manner, 
'Do  you  know  what's  shown  on  board 
the  Commander-in-Chief  No.  39?'  On 
asking  him  what  he  meant,  he  answered, 
'Why,  to  leave  oil  action.'  'Leave  off 
action,'  he  repeated  and  then  added 
with  a  shrug.  Now  damn  me  ii  I  do!' 
He  also  observed,  I  believe  to  Captain 
Foley,  You  know,  Foley,  I  have  only 
one    eye— I    have    a    right    to    be    blind 


FREE...ANY  3 


of  these  superb  High-Fideli 


12"  COLUMBIA®  RECORDS 

if  you  join  the  Columbia  ©  Record  Club  now-and  agree  to 
purchase  4  selections  during  the  coming  12  months 


OAITB  PARISIBNNE 
LBS  SYLPH  I  DBS 


BtTDOLF  MKHKiW 
BEETHOVEN 

^    "MMHtiegT"  Senjtl 
•  Wr  "MTHETHHIE"  Seiota 
df  •  M>P»SSMHi»TA"  Sraiti 


cSkW 


EASY  TO  REMEMBER 
,  NORMAN  LUBOFF  CHOIR  I 


REX  HARRISON  * 
JULIE  ANDREWS 
LADY 


Original 

BmtKfwiy 
Orel 


Two  delightful  and  ro- 
mantic ballet  scores  by 
Offenbach    and    Chopin 


Definitive  performances 
of  three  best-loved 
Beethoven  sonatas 


Johnny  Mathis  sings  12 
favorites  —  Day  In  Day 
Out,  Old  Black  Magic,  etc. 


Erroll  Garner  plays  Car- 
avan, No  Greater  Love, 
Memories  of  You,   etc. 


Tenderly,  Deep  Purple, 
Soon,  Laura,  September 
In   The   Rain,   7  others 


Complete  score!  I  Could 
Have  Danced  All  Night, 
The  Rain  In  Spain,  etc. 


7  exciting  new  jazz  im- 
provisations by  two 
great  modern  combos 


EDDY  DUCHIN 
STORY 


ORIGINAL  DUCHIN  RECORDINGS 


Duchin  plays  The  Man  I 
Love,  April  Showers,  Am 
I  Blue?,  Brazil— 11  more 


AMBASSADOR  SATCH 


LOUS 

I  ARMSTRONG 


Suave  arrangements  of 
Embraceable  You,  Some- 
body Loves  Me— 12  more 


The  Moon  of  Manakoora, 
Lotus  Land,  Poinciana, 
Jamaican  Rhumba,  etc. 


PORTS  OF  CALL 

RAVEL:  BOLERO.  LA  VALSE.  PAVANE  ' 
CHABRIER:  ESPANAIBERT:  ESCALES 
DEBUSSY:  CLAIR  OE  LURE        I 


Armstrong  and  his  All- 
Stars.  10  numbers  from 
triumphant  tour  abroad 


STRAVINSKY: 
FIREBIRD  SUITE  i 
TCHAIKOVSKY:  i 
ROMEO  AND  JULIET !  . 
LEONARD  BERNSTEIN 
NEW  YORK  PHILHARMONIC 


Stunning  hi-fi  perform- 
ances of  the  "Firebird" 
and  "Romeo  and  Juliet" 


Oklahoma! 

Nelson  Eddy 

Complete  Score 


LEVANT  PLAYS  GERSHWIN 

RHAPSODY 

IN  BLUE! 


CONCERTO  t 
AN  AMERICAN  IN  PASIS  , 


Doris  Day  sings  The  Song 
Is  You,  But  Not  For  Me, 
Autumn  Leaves-9  more 


Emperor  Waltz, Blue  Dan- 
ube, Vienna  Life,  Gypsy 
Baron  Overture-2  more 


12  Sinatra  favorites  — 
Mad  About  You,  Love 
Me,  Nevertheless,  etc. 


A  romantic  musical  tour 
-Ormandy  and  The  Phil- 
adelphia Orchestra 


Rodgers  &  Hammer- 
stein's  fabulous  hit,  with 
Nelson  Eddy  as  Curly 


3  Gershwin  works— Con- 
certo in  F,  Rhapsody  in 
Blue,  American  in  Paris 


ROMANTIC  MELODIES  FROM: 
ROMEO  AND  JULIET.  SLEEPING  BEAUTY. 
5TH  SYMPHONY.  NUTCRACKER  SUITE. 
QUARTET  IN  D.  SYMPHONY  PATHETIQUE, 
MARCHE  SLAV.  SERENADE  FOR  STRINGS 


'1 

SUDDENLY 
IT'S 

1  HI  I 
r  LO'S  1 

K 

1 

* 

THE  KING  OF  SWING 


BENNY 

GOODMAN 


IHAHtr  M*8     I      >* 
ClNtKHWA     '■!••  '■/ 
UONtl  HAWTOW 
TEOOf  VW1SON 


7-38  Jazz  Concert  No.  2 


12  inimitable  Elgart 
arrangements  —  ideal 
for  listening  or  dancing 


Eight  of  the  best-loved 
melodies  of  all  time  — 
magnificently  performed 


America's  favorite  quar- 
tet sings  Love  Walked 
In  and  11  others 


Benny  Goodman  and  his 
Original  Orchestra,  Trio 
and  Quartet.  11  numbers 


rMlk'ikE 


::    Symphony  No.  3 
Academic 
Festival 
Overture  . 

Jlfcr  7* 
WALTER 

NEW- YORK  PHILHARMONIC 


6  works:  Symphony  No.  3, 
Academic  Festival  Over- 
ture, 4  Hungarian  Dances 


The  complete  score  of 
Lehar's  operetta-Vilia, 
Maxim's,  Women,  etc. 


.Ju  You  receive,  at  once,  any  3  of  these  records-FREE. 
w  One  is  your  gift  for  joining,  and  the  other  two  are 
your  Bonus  records  "in  advance" 

•A,  After  you  have  purchased  only  four  records,  you  re- 
w   ceive  a  12"  Columbia  ©  Bonus  record  of  your  choice 

FREE  for  every  two  additional  selections  you  purchase 

from  the  Club 

yy  You  enroll  in  any  one  of  the  four  Club  Divisions: 
w   Classical;    Jazz;    Listening  .and    Dancing;    Broadway, 
Movies,  Television  and  Musical  Comedies 

yy  Every  month  you  receive,  FREE,  a  new  issue  Of  the 
'"l  Columbia  <$  Record  Club  Magazine  -  which  describes 
all  forthcoming  selections 

•f?  You  may  accept  or  reject  the  selection  for  your  Divi- 
sion,  take  records  from  other  Divisions  or  take  NO 
records  in  any  particular  month 

Your  only  membership  obligation  is  to  buy  four  selec- 
tions from  the  more  than  100  to  be  offered  in  the 
coming  12  months.  You  may  cancel  membership  any 
time  thereafter 

VV  The  records  you  want  are  mailed  and  billed  to  you 
at  only  $3.98  (original  cast  Musical  Shows  somewhat 
higher),  plus  small  mailing  charge 

~J>  You  must  be  delighted  with  membership  or  you  may 
cancel  it  by  returning  the  free  records  within  10  days 

COLUMBIA  ©   RECORD   CLUB 

TERRE   HAUTE,   INDIANA 


* 


- -I  FREE— ANY  3— VALUE  UP  TO  $12.94— MAIL  ENTIRE  COUPON  NOWtl 1 


COLUMBIA  ©  RECORD  CLUB,  Dept.  558 
TERRE  HAUTE,  INDIANA 

Please  send  me  as  my  FREE  gift  the  3  records  whose 
numbers  I  have  circled  at  the  right  —  and  enroll  me  in 
the  following  Division  of  the  Club: 

(cheek  one  box  only) 

□   Classical  rj   Listening  and  Dancing  □   Jazz 

□   Broadway,  Movies.  Television  and  Musical  Comedies 

I  agree  to  purchase  four  selections  from  the  more  than 
100  to  be  offered  during  the  coming  12  months  ...  at 
regular  list  price,  plus  small  mailing  charge.  For  every 
two  additional  selections  I  accept.  I  am  to  receive  a  12" 
Columbia  ©  Bonus  record  of  my  choice  FREE. 


Name 

(Please  Print) 
Address. 


City Zone State 

CANADA:  Prices  slightly  higher,  address  11-13  Soho  St.,  Toronto2B 
If  you  wish  Lo  have  this  membership  credited  to  an  estab- 
lished   Columbia    Records    dealer,    aulhorized    to    accept 
subscriptions,    please    fill    in    the    following    information: 


Dealer's    Name. 


Dealer's    Address 851 

©Columbia   Records   Sales  Corp.,    1957  ®  c.i.»ti„- ©.  <f  u..,.,  •■» 


CIRCLE  3  NUMBERS  BELOW: 

T.  Eddy  Duchin  Story 

2.  Beethoven:  3  piano  sonatas 

3.  Erroll  Garner  ("Caravan") 

4.  Gaite  Parisienne;  Les  Sylphides 

5.  Easy  To  Remember — Luboff  Choir 

6.  My  Fair  Lady— Orig.  Broadway  Cast 

7.  Brubeck  and  Jay  &  Kai 

8.  Gershwin  Hi's— Percy  Faith 

9.  Sinatra — Adventures  of  the  Heart 

10.  Ambassador  Satch 

11.  Firebird;  Romeo  and  Juliet 

12.  Day  By  Day— Doris  Day 

13.  Johann  Strauss— Waltzes 

14.  Lure  of  the  Tropics — Kostetanelz 

15.  Ports  Of  Call 

16.  Oklahoma! 

17.  levant  Plays  Gershwin 

18.  The  Elgart  Touch 

19.  The  Great  Melodies  of  Tchaikovsky 

20.  Suddenly  It's  the  Hi-Lo's 

21.  King  of  Swing— Benny  Goodman 

22.  Brahms:  Symphony  No.  3 

23.  The  Merry  Widow 

24.  Wonderful,  Wonderful— Mathis    PE-1 


10 


LETTERS 


sometimes';  and   then  with  an  archness 
peculiar    to    his   character,    putting    the 
glass   to   his   blind   eye,    he   exclaimed, 
I  really  d<>  not  sec  the  signal.'" 

Gordon  N.  Ray 
Urbana.    Illinois 

Baddest  Seal 

To  the  Editors: 

We  enjoyed  "The  Seal  That  Couldn't 
Swim"  [November]  and  think  that  the 
drawings  by  Roy  McKie  are  the  baddest. 

Die  k    1)  V\  is 

San  Fran*  is<  o,  Calif. 

The  Farm  Bloc 

To  the  Editors: 

I   have   just  read  Carroll    Kllpatrick's 

article  ["What  Happened  to  the  Farm 
Bloc?"  Nov.]  with  great  interest  be- 
cause it  gives  a  true  picture  of  that 
important  situation  just  as  I  touched 
on  the  problem  in  m\  speet  h  of  last 
August  to  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives: "There  was  a  day,  and  not  so 
long  ago,  when  the  Members  ol 
Congress  from  agricultural  states  held 
the  balance  of  power  in  Congress  when 
legislation  beneficial  to  all  our  farmers 
was  at  stake,  but  the  exit  from  the 
farms  to  the  cities  has  considerably 
weakened  that  power.  Then  too.  the 
Southern  farm  bloc,  who  are  in  con- 
trol of  farm  legislation  in  Congress,  are 
not  concerned  about  the  grain  and 
livestock  farmers  of  the  Middle  West. 
"Add  to  that  the  Members  of  Congress 
in  both  parties  from  the  large  consum- 
ing centers  who  want  cheap  food  and 
feed  for  the  people  they  represent. 
They  constantly  complain  about  farm 
subsidies,  and  say  their  people  just 
don't  like  to  pay  taxes  to  subsidize  our 
farmers  while  at  the  same  time  their 
cost  of  living  is  constantly  going  up. 
We  keep  explaining  to  them  that  the 
farmer  receives  only  about  forty  cents 
of  the  dollar  they  pay  for  food.  Yes, 
the  time  may  come  when  the  whole 
federal  farm  program  might  be  scuttled, 
and  that  time  may  come  sooner  than 
we  think.  .  .  ."  Ben  F.  Jensen 

I  louse   of  Representatives 
Washington,  D.  C. 

Kilpatrick  has  high  hopes  lor  a  con- 
sumer-written farm  program  now  that 
those  ignorant  members  of  the  "Faun 
Bloc"  are  at  odds.  He  notes  with  ap- 
proval a  Congressional  investigation  of 
margins  initiated  by  "an  all-city  repre- 
sentative." How  (an  Kilpatrick  fail  to 
know  that  margins  already  have  been 
a  favorite  whipping  boy  of  the  "Farm 
Bloc"  for  three  decades?  While  margins 
investigations    have    jolly    well    afflicted 


the  comfortable,   they   have  done   little 
to  comforl  tin-  afflicted. 

The  "Faun  Bloc"  is  roundly  con- 
demned lor  seeking  "price,  price,  price" 
and  ignoring  the  long-run  solution  of 
migration  to  the  cities.  Oddly  enough 
farmers  have  to  live  in  the  short-run, 
and  they  seek  price  with  the  same 
practical  logic  that  labor  seeks  wages, 
and   business  seeks  profits. 

V.    James    Rhodi  s 
Columbia,    Mo. 


Review  of  Miss  Rand 

1  o  mi    Editors: 

It  seems  clear  to  me  that  the  most 
essential  requisites  of  a  book  reviewer 
are  that  he  (a)  read  the  book  he  is 
reviewing,  and  (b)  be  able  to  sum- 
marize adequately  its  central  theme. 
Whatever  the  merits  of  bis  critical 
judgment,  surely  these  qualities  must 
Ik  upheld.  What  can  we  think  then  ol 
Mr.  Paul  Pickrel,  who  in  his  review  ol 
Ayn  Rand's  Atlas  Shrugged  in  your 
Novembe]  issue  (a)  openly  boasts  that 
Ik  has  read  only  one-fourth  of  the 
novel,  and  (b)  states  as  the  central 
theme  ol  the  book  what  is  almost  the 
diametric  opposite-  ol  the  actual  theme? 
.  .  .  [Contrary  to  Mr.  PickrcTs  account], 
there  is  no  murder  or  hint  ol  murder 
in  [the  300  pages  he  has  read]   .... 

Murray  N.   Rothbard 
New  York,  N.  Y. 

Mr.  Rothbard  has  misunderstood  my 
review  of  Miss  Rand's  book  in  one 
respect:  I  did  not  openly  boast  that  1 
had  read  only  a  fourth  of  the  novel: 
I  openly  confessed  it.  1  happen  to  like 
to  read  and  prefer  to  finish  the  books 
I  start.  I  am  not  intimidated  by  long 
books  and  have  read  several  in  my 
time.  I  had  to  stop  reading  Miss  Rand's 
book  before  I  had  finished  it  because 
I  couldn't  stand  it.  The  fact  that  Mr. 
Rothbard  could  entitles  him  to  dis- 
agree with  my  judgment;  it  does  not 
entitle  him  to  see  behind  my  judgment 
a   spirit   that  was  not  there. 

In  general  I  agree  with  Mr.  Roth- 
bard that  a  reviewer  should  read  every 
word  of  a  book  he  reviews,  and  I  have 
plowed  through  many  a  weary  page  out 
of  loyalty  to  that  fine  old  principle. 
But  occasionally,  and  in  special  circum- 
stances, I  think  a  reviewer  can  take 
refuge,  il  he  is  perfectly  honest  about 
what  he  is  doing,  in  another  fine  old 
principle— that  you  don't  have  to  eat 
the  whole  egg  to  know  it's  rotten.  I 
do  not  agree  with  Mr.  Rothbard's  ap- 
parent assumption  that  if  a  reviewer 
does  not  finish  a  book  it  is  better  for 
him  to  disguise  that  fact  from  his 
readers.     As    a    reader,    Mr.    Rothbard 


may  have  greatei  staying  powei  than  I 
have,  but  he  is  less  careful  than  I  am. 
If  be  will  reread  the  Inst  800  pages 
carefully,  he  will  find  that  a  murder 
is  referred  to  with  approval  more  than 
once— the  murder  ol  ,i  state  legislator 
l-\  the-  grandfathej  ol  the  present  gen- 
eration   ol    the    railroad    Eamily. 

I'm  i     PlCKREL 
New    Haven,    Conn. 


Proof  of  the  Pudding 

To  mi    Editors: 

I  agree  with  Mr.  Con's  thesis  that 
there  are  still  regional  and  local  differ- 
ences in  eating  habits,  and  a  wide  range 
of  prices  as  well.  But  he  got  there  in 
spite  of  his  data  which  are  often  most 
fallacious.  I  think  I  am  qualified  to 
comment;  I've  kept  house  in  eleven  very 
different  cities  in  the  last.  South.  South- 
west, and  on   the  West  Coast. 

Mr.  Con's  selection  of  elates  is  unfor- 
tunate. In  December,  large  sections  of 
the  country  will  have  no  local  pro- 
duce. ...  In  any  place  with  a  large 
proportion  ol  Catholics,  the  Thursday 
ads  naturally  feature  Friday's  fish.  Ibis 
places  undue  emphasis  on  an  item  that 
is  often  eaten  only  once  a  week.  The 
availability,  importance,  and  variety  of 
fish  in  New  Orleans  diets  is  not  sug- 
gested by  Mi.  Con.  ...  Or  that  South- 
erners consume  immense  quantities  of 
collards  and  mustard  greens,  hardly  fa-. 
vorite  edibles  elsewhere.  Or  that  in  New 
York  veal  is  a  delicate,  rather  costly 
meat  from  milk-fed  calves;  in  the  South 
it  is  a  scraggy  "poor  lolks"  viand.  .  .  . 

Let's  look  at  the  table  of  selected 
items.  Cooking  oil  and  detergent,  stan- 
dard staples  ol  fixed  quality,  are  com- 
parable, but  weekend  special  prices 
prove  little  as  to  their  year-round  cost. 
Canned  peas  and  corn  vary  greatly  in 
quality;  did  Mr.  Cort  compare  grade  as 
well  as  can  size?  When  we  come  to  meat, 
how  does  he  know  it  was  the  "best  sieak 
in  town"?  In  many  cities,  independent 
luxury  markets  are  the  source  ol  the 
best  steak;  they  don't  advertise  like  the 
chains,  however,  and  seldom  publicly 
proclaim  the  astronomical  price  of  the 
best  steak.  But  as  to  the  chains:  in  many 
pi. ices  they  don't  carry  "prime"  beef, 
only  the  next  two  grades,  "choice"  and 
"good."  Was  Mr.  Cort  careful  to  com- 
pare only   "choice"  with   "choice"? 

Reading  the  food  ads  in  a  strange 
city,  my  practiced  and  cynical  eye  notes 
data  from  which  I  can  make  certain  ten- 
tative deductions,  but  none  so  sweeping 
as  Mr.  Cort's  extrapolations.  Really  to 
understand  the  popular  food  picture  in 
any  city  takes  the  experience  acquired  in 
the  market  place,  pushing  a  wire  cart. 
Mrs.  William  Von  Puhl 
San    Antonio,     Texas 


fl* 


BOTH  ,lH£Z 

{     ^J         TO  NEV 


...WALTER  J.  BLACK,  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  CLASSICS  CLUB, 
INVITES  YOU  TO  ACCEPT  FREE 


>  NEW  MEMBERS 


zMete  c/rW  cSeaa^M^/ ^Lk 'c^cttxe JZ^fe^  t&tmw/id 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS  OF 


THE  ESSAYS  OP 


Shakespeare  w  Bacon 


H 


All  37  Plays    •    Comedies,  Tragedies, 
Histories  and  Poems 

PVERY  word  Shakespeare  ever  wrote — every  delightful  comedy, 
stirring  tragedy,  and  thrilling  historical  play;  every  lovely  poem 
and  sonnet — yours  complete  in  this  beautiful  1312-page  volume. 
Chuckle  at  the  ever-modern  comedy  of  Falstaff;  be  fascinated  by 
glamorous  Cleopatra;  shudder  at  the  intrigues  of  Macbeth;  thrill  with 
Romeo  in  the  ecstasies  of  love.  Be  amazed  at  Iago's  treachery;  step 
with  delight  into  the  whimsical  world  of  Puck  and  Bottom. 

Shakespeare  is  the  one  writer  who  understood  human  nature  as  no 
other  ever  has,  before  or  since.  So  deep  did  he  see  into  the  hearts  of  all 
of  us  that  he  is  more  alive  today  than  he  was  three  hundred  years  ago! 

Why  The  Classics  Club  Offers  You  These  2  Books  Free 

"VWILL  YOU  add  these  two  volumes  to 
your  library — as  membership  gifts 
from  the  Classics  Club?  You  are  invited 
to  join  today  .  .  .  and  to  receive  on  ap- 
proval beautiful  editions  of  the  world's 
greatest  masterpieces. 

These  books,  selected  unanimously  by 
distinguished  literary  authorities,  were 
chosen  because  they  offer  the  greatest  en- 
joyment and  value  to  the  "pressed  for 
time"  men  and  women  of  today. 

Why  Are  Great  Books  Called  "Classics"? 

A  true  "classic"  is  a  living  book  that  will 
never  grow  old.  For  sheer  fascination  it  can 
rival  the  most  thrilling  modern  novel.  Have 
you  ever  wondered  how  the  truly  great 
books  have  become  "classics"?  First  because 

they  are  so  readable.  They  would  not  have  lived 
unless  they  were  read;  they  would  not  have  been 
read  unless  they  were  interesting.  To  be  interest- 
ing they  had  to  be  easy  to  understand.    And  those 


On  love,  Truth,  Friendship,  Riches 
and  54  Other  Fascinating  Subjects 

ERE  is  another  Titan  of  the  Elizabethan  era — Sir  Francis  Bacon, 
whose  surpassing  intellect  laid  the  groundwork  of  science  and 
philosophy  for  generations.  Anyone  in  search  of  personal  guidance 
and  a  practical,  day-by-day  philosophy  of  life  can  do  no  better  than 
to  read  these  immortal  essays  .  .  .  about  love,  politics,  books,  busi- 
ness, friendship  and  the  many  other  subjects  which  Bacon  discusses 
so  clearly,  incisively,  wisely.  So  much  wit  and  wisdom  is  packed 
into  these  writings  that  quotations  from  them  have  become  part  of 
our  literature. 

Both   these  handsome  De  Luxe  volumes — Shakespeare  and  Bacon 
— are  yours  free,  as  membership  gifts  from  the  Classics  Club. 


are  the  very  qualities  which  characterize  these 
selections:   readability,  interest,  simplicity. 

Only  Book  Club  of  Its  Kind 

The  Classics  Club  is  different  from  all  other  book 
clubs.  1.  It  distributes  to  its  members  the  world's 
classics  at  a  low  price.  2.  Its  members  are  not  ob- 
ligated to  take  any  specific  number  of  books.  3.  Its 
volumes  are  luxurious  De  Luxe  Editions — bound 
in  the  fine  buckram  ordinarily  used  for  $5  and 
$10  bindings.  They  have  tinted  page  tops;  are 
richly  stamped  in  genuine  gold,  which  will  retain 
its  original  lustre — books  you  and  your  children 
will  read  and  cherish  for  years. 

A  Trial  Membership  Invitation  to  You 

You  are  invited  to  accept  a  Trial  Membership. 
With  your  first  book  will  be  sent  an  advance 
notice  about  future  selections.  You  may  reject 
any  book  you  do  not  wish.  You  need  not  take  any 
specific  number  of  books — only  the  ones  you  want. 
No  money  in  advance,  no  membership  fees.  You 
may  cancel  membership  at  any  time. 
Mail  this  Invitation  Form  now.  Paper,  print- 
ing, binding  costs  are  rising.  This  low  price — and 
your  FREE  copies  of  The  Complete  Works  of 
SHAKESPEARE  and  BACON'S  ESSAYS— 
cannot  be  assured  unless  you  respond  promptly. 
THE  CLASSICS  CLUB,Roslyn,  L.  I.,  New  York. 


Walter  J.  Black,  President  CA 

THE   CLASSICS   CLUB 
Roslyn,  L.I.,  New  York 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  Trial  Member  and  send 
me.  FREE  the  beautiful  two-volume  De  Luxe 
Classics  Club  Editions  of  The  Complete  Works 
of  SHAKESPEARE  and  BACON'S  ESSAYS,  to- 
gether with  the  current  selection. 

I  am  not  obligated  to  take  any  specific  number 
of  books  and  I  am  to  receive  an  advance  de- 
scription of  future  selections.  Also.  I  may  reject 
any  volume  before  or  after  I  receive  it,  and  I 
may  cancel  my  membership  whenever  I  wish. 

For  each  volume  I  decide  to  keep  I  will  send 
you  $2.89.  plus  a  few  cents  mailing  charges. 
(Books  shivved  in  U.S.A.  only.) 


Mr 

Mrs. 

Miss 


5S    ) 


(Please  Print  Plainly) 


Zone  No. 
City (if  any) . . 


the  editor\ 


JOHN  FISCHER 


EASY  CHAIR 


Conversation  at  Midnight 


SCHLOSS     LEOPOLDSKRON 
SALZBURG, AUSTRIA 

THIS  castle  is  supposed  to  be  haunted.  A 
Nazi  gauleiter  shot  Ids  wile,  his  three 
children,  and  himself  in  the  little  lookout  room 
on  the  top  floor  that  morning  when  he  saw  the 
American  tanks  break  into  the  valley;  and  other 
troubled  spirits  (I  am  told)  have  been  mewling 
and  clanking  around  the  staircases  lor  a  good 
two  hundred  years.  So  it  was  only  sensible  to 
take  precautions. 

The  best  protection  against  ghosts,  Father 
Florian  said,  was  a  bottle  of  the  red  wine  put 
up  by  his  fellow  monks  at  the  Peterskeller.  It 
is  not  very  good  wine,  but  it  is  strong,  and  after 
a  few  glasses  any  apparition  wotdd  hardly  be 
noticeable.  As  my  spiritual  adviser  (self- 
appointed)  he  had  taken  the  liberty  of  bringing 
a  liter  with  him. 

"I  detest  being  interrupted  by  spooks,"  he  said 
as  he  pulled  the  cork.  "Or,  for  that  matter,  by 
anyone  else.  Close  the  door.  I  have  to  reprove 
you,  and  I  don't  want  those  people  wandering 
in  with  their  silly  questions." 

This  was  unfair.  "Those  people"  are  fifty- 
eight  young  men  and  women  who  are,  for  the 
moment,  living  here;  Father  Florian  is  merely  an 
occasional  visitor,  usually  uninvited.  They  have 
come  from  sixteen  European  countries,  because 
each  of  them  has  a  professional  interest  in  the 
United  States,  and  because  the  Schloss  is  now 
occupied  by  a  curious  kind  of  school,  known  as 
The  Seminar  in  American  Studies.  It  is  true  that 
they  often  cross-examine  the  five  Americans  who 
serve  as  faculty  until  all  hours  of  the  night,  but 
their  questions  are  seldom  silly.  They  are  people 
of  trained  intelligence— diplomats,  newspaper- 
men, teachers,  sociologists,  civil  servants— and 
their    inquiries    sometimes    are    uncomfortably 


sharp.  Father  Florian  never  asks  questions;  he 
gives  answers,  whether  you  want  them  or  not.  He 
is  dogmatic,  fat,  and  impertinent;  and  I  am  fond 
of  him. 

He  filled  two  glasses  and  settled  himself  in  the 
only  comfortable  chair  in  my  study. 

"The  trouble  with  you  Americans  .  .  ."  he  said. 

"Look,"  I  interrupted,  "let's  get  back  to  the 
ghosts.  For  the  last  month  these  people  have 
been  telling  me  what  is  wrong  with  Americans, 
and  I  am  beginning  to  get  the  idea.  We  are  a 
bunch  of  crude  materialists.  We've  got  no  cul- 
ture, no  respect  for  tradition,  no  sense  of  history, 
no  ideals,  no  palate.  .  .  ." 

"Nonsense,"  Father  Florian  said.  "It  is  true 
that  most  Furopeans  believe  those  legends,  but 
I  am  going  to  tell  you  what  is  really  wrong  with 
America.  I  traveled  back  and  forth  across  your 
country  for  seven  years,  making  a  serious  study 
of  the  American  soul.  And  I  don't  think  you 
understand  yourselves  any  better  than  these 
youngsters  who  have  been  talking  at  you." 

He  loosened  the  rope  he  wore  around  the 
middle  of  his  cassock  and  eased  his  throat  with 
a  little  wine. 

"The  real  trouble,"  he  said,  "is  that  you  are  a 
bunch  of  dreamy  poets.  You  are  besotted  with 
culture.  You  spend  more  time  and  money  on  it 
than  you  can  afford.  Idealism  is  a  fine  thing,  but 
you  Americans  have  carried  it  too  far— to  the 
point  where  you  can  no  longer  bear  to  lace  a 
hard,  materia]  fact  when  you  meet  one.  This  is 
dangerous.  You  will  have  to  learn  to  be  prac- 
tical, or  you  will  perish. 

"Now  don't  misunderstand  me.  We  are  grate- 
ful for  your  cultural  leadership,  though  natu- 
rally we  can't  admit  it.  We  have  to  snarl  a  little, 
to  save  our  self-respect— but  we  are  soaking  up 
your  culture  like  a  parched  field  soaks  up  rain. 
We  play  your  music,  read  your  novels,  and  wear 
your  clothes  all  over  Europe.    Look  at  all  our 


cJc  tofied/cevm  A  Me  oecudfa/  tm/med  o/  me 

INTERNATIONAL 


Czar  Alexander  II 
Binding 


NOTE:  Some  0/  these  volumes,  extraordinarily  long  in  the  original,  have  been  edited  for  modern 
reading.  Among  those  listed  below,  the  abridged  titles  are  War  and  Peace,  The  Brothers  Kara- 
mazov,  The  Moonstone,  and  The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson.  For  actual  lengths,  see  descriptions. 


THE  great  private  libraries  of  the  past  have 
bequeathed  to  us  rare  and  sumptuous  vol- 
umes of  exquisite,  hand-crafted  design.  These 
volumes  are  today  priceless  treasures  found  only 
in  museums  and  in  the  libraries  of  the  wealthy. 
Yet  —  on  the  most  limited  budget,  you  may 
have  thrilling  reproductions  commissioned  by 
the  International  Collectors  Library! 

A  MAGNIFICENT  LIFETIME  LIBRARY  FOR  YOUR 
HOME.  Within  the  exclusive,  luxurious  bindings 
of  the  International  Collectors  Library  are  the 
greatest  works  of  literature  —  novels,  drama, 
philosophy,  biography,  history  —  some  of  which, 


extraordinarily  long  in  the  original,  have  been 
edited  for  modern  reading.  Each  binding  repro- 
duces the  coloring  and  design  of  the  original, 
and  is  elaborately  embossed  in  24K  gold,  to  en- 
rich your  home.  The  paper  was  made  to  last  for 
centuries,  and  the  page  tops  gleam  with  genuine 
gold  leaf.  Each  volume  has  its  own  silk  marker. 

HOW  THE  LIBRARY'S  PLAN  WORKS.  The  Library 
distributes  these  volumes  to  members  only  for 
just  $3.65  each.  You  will  receive  an  advance 
notice  each  month  of  the  forthcoming  release. 
If  you  do  not  want  it,  simply  notify  us  and  it 
will  not  be  sent;  otherwise,  it  will  come  to  you 


for  only  $3.65  plus  small  delivery  charge.  Your 
sole  obligation  is  to  accept  as  few  as  four  selec- 
tions in  any  twelve-month  period,  after  which 
you  may  resign  at  any  time. 
MAIL  THE  COUPON  TODAY!  Send  for  your  three 
volumes  for  free  examination.  If  you  are  not 
overwhelmed  by  their  beauty  and  value,  return 
them  in  7  days  and  owe  nothing.  Or,  pay  only 
$1.00  (plus  shipping)  for  all  three  and  become 
a  Library  member.  Remember  —  you  may  cancel 
membership  at  any  time  after  accepting  four 
more  books.  So  —  mail  the  coupon  now! 
INTERNATIONAL  COLLECTORS  LIBRARY,  Garden  City,  N.  Y 


CHOOSE  THE  3  VOLUMES  YOU  WANT  FOR  $122 

(Each  Title  Available  Only  in  Binding  Indicated) 

FRENCH  EMPIRE  BINDING.  A  rich,  elegant 
binding  in  mellow  tan,  decorated  with 
Napoleonic  eagle  and  chain-link  design. 


Write  Below  the  TITLES  of  the  Three 
Volumes  You  Want  For  Just  $1.00 


MME.  DE  POMPADOUR  BINDING.  An  elab- 
orate binding  in  antique  brown  with  a  design 
from  the  library  of  Mme.  de  Pompadour. 
Madame   Bovary   by   Gustave  Flaubert. 
A  portrait  of  a  marriage  and  the  disinte- 
gration of  a  woman's  character.  Complete. 

LOUIS  XVI  BINDING.  A  superb,  brilliant 
green  with  an  exquisite  design  found  in  the 
magnificent  library  of  Louis  XVI  of  France. 
Of  Human  Bondage  by  W.  Somerset 
Maugham.  A  study  of  love  and  hate, 
man  and  woman.  Complete. 
Victory.  Joseph  Conrad's  strange  and 
fiery  novel  about  a  good  man  and  a  lost 
woman  on  a  paradise  isle.  Complete. 

MERCIER  BINDING.  In  rich  blue,  with  an 
unusual  design  created  by  Emile  Mercier.  mas- 
ter French  bookbinder  of  the  19th  Century. 
The  Moonstone  by  Wilkie  Collins.  The 
first  detective  novel !  Abridged  to  444  pages. 
Pride  and  Prejudice  by  Jane  Austen. 
The  comedy  of  manners  that  has  enchant- 
ed the  world  for  150  years !  Complete. 


The  Epic  of  America  by  James  Truslow 
Adams.  An  inspired  interpretation  of  bur 
country's   history.    Complete. 

FLEET  STREET  BINDING.  A  binding  in  soft 
burnt-orange,  with  a  design  by  the  famous 
London  craftsman,  Kyle  of  Fleet  Street. 

The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson  by  James 
Boswell.  The  brilliant,  witty  Doctor  lives 
forever  in  this  —  the  world's  greatest 
biography!  Abridged  to  631  pages. 

CZAR  ALEXANDER  II  BINDING.  A  wine-red 
ornate  binding  originally  discovered  in  the 
Imperial   Russian   Palace   library. 

The  Brothers  Karamazov  by  Fyodor 
Dostoevsky.  Called  the  world's  most 
masterful  novel.  Kropotkin  translation. 
Abridged  to  483  pages. 
War  and  Peace  by  Count  Leo  Tolstoy. 
The  world-famous  epic  masterpiece.  Kro- 
potkin translation.   Abridged   141   pages. 


i 


I  International  Collectors  Library,  Dept.    1H 
I  Garden  City,  N.  Y. 

Please   send  me  the  three   International  Collectors  Library  vol- 

Iumes,  the  titles  of  which  I  have  written  above,  and  bill  me  only 
$1.00  (plus  few  cents  shipping)  for  all  three.  Enroll  me  as  a  mem- 
I  ber  of  the  International  Collectors  Library  and  send  me  each 
1  month  an  advance  description  of  the  forthcoming  selection  which 

II  may  accept  or  reject  as  I  choose.   I  may  take  as  few  as  four 
additional  volumes  during  the  coming  twelve  months  at  the  ex- 
I  elusive  price  of  just  $3.65  each,  plus  delivery  charge— and  I  may  I 
resign  membership  at  any  time  after  doing  so  simply  by  notifying  « 
I  you. 
SPECIAL  NO-RISK  GUARANTEE:  If  not  delighted  I  will  return" 
tail  books  in  7  days  and  this  membership  will  be  cancelled!  J 


Name    .  . 
Address 
City   .  .  . 


14 


THE     EDITOR'S     EASY     CHAIR 


girls  in  blue  jeans  and  pony  tails,  and  all  our 
little  hoys  in  cowboj  champs.  Chaps?  Ah.  yes, 
Thank  von. 

I  \(.n  alcoholic  Paris,  thank  Heaven,  is  being 
infiltrated  with  milk  bars,  and  half  the  boys  in 
m\  parish  are  trying  to  play  the  trumpet  like 
Satchmo.  My  city  of  Vienna  invented  musical 
comedy,  but  "Kiss  Me,  Kate"  is  the  biggest  hit 
there  since  the  war.  This  is  embarrassing,  be- 
cause we  haven't  produced  a  good  musical  of 
our  own  lor  thirty  years.  And 
Germany,  which  is  tempo- 
rarily out  of  playwrights,  is 
making  a  national  hero  out  of 
Thornton  Wilder. 

"At  this  very  minute  there 
isn't  a  housewife  east  ol  the 
Danube  who  isn't  scheming  to 
gel  a  vacuum  cleaner,  a  wash- 
ing machine,  and  an  ice  box. 
Wonderful  aids  to  the  spirit- 
ual life.  When  a  woman 
doesn't  have  to  spend  all  her 
waking  hours  in  drudgery,  she 
can  find  time  for  literature 
and  art  and  even,  sometimes, 
for  the  Church.  If  we  Euro- 
peans have  a  religious  revival 
we  should  give  part  of  the 
thanks  to  the  United  States. 
We  won't  do  it,  of  course." 

A  STRANGULATED  moan  began  to 
reverberate  through  the  west  wall.  Father 
Florian  cocked  an  ear  and  suggested  that  per- 
haps we  should  send  for  another  bottle.  No  need, 
I  explained.  That  was  the  normal  voice  of  the 
neo-baroque  plumbing  in  the  bathroom— the  one 
with  the  three  crystal  chandeliers— which  Max 
Reinhardt  had  installed  when  he  lived  here. 

"Nevertheless  I  shall  take  another  glass,"  the 
friar  said,  "for  this  castle  and  all  its  ghosts  can 
bear  testimony  to  the  warning  I  am  about  to 
deliver.  Schloss  Leopoldskron  is,  in  fact,  a  relic 
of  a  cultural  spree,  much  like  the  one  on  which 
America  is  now  embarking.  And  I  must  warn 
you  that  a  nation  can  pay  too  high  for  such  a 
flowering  of  the  spirit. 

"That  is  precisely  the  mistake  we  Austrians 
made  a  couple  of  centuries  ago.  Our  Empire 
was  then  the  first  power  on  the  Continent.  We 
had  recently  won  a  terrible  war.  Our  armies 
were  invincible;  our  economy  was  thriving;  our 
political  system  obviously  was  the  soundest  ever 
ordained  by  God.  So  we  took  all  that  for  granted 
—indeed  we  affected  a  contempt  for  the  material 
side  of  life— and  for  three  generations  wc  de- 
voted our  considerable  energies  to  developing  an 
extravagant  and  delightful  civilization. 

"Like  yourselves,  we  were  a  religious  people. 
We  worshiped  the  Holy  Trinity,  instead  of  the 
automobile,  but  we  lavished  on  it  fully  as  much 


~Tcry\, 


money,  artistry,  and  sacrificial  effort  as  you  now 
devote  to  the  products  of  Detroit's  Big  Three. 
"Don't  interrupt.  I  am  not,  at  the  moment, 
criticizing  your  faith.  Othei  pagan  countries 
have  done  worse.  Your  wheeled  idol  combines 
all  the  best  features  ol  Moloch,  the  Juggernaut, 
iiul  the  Golden  Call— and  as  a  student  ol  com- 
parative religions  I  must  admit  that  your  con- 
set  ration  to  it  is  impressive. 

"How  many  lives  do  you  offer  up  a  year?  Forty 
thousand?  The  Toltecs  did 
no  better  for  Quetzalcoatl, 
although  their  method  of  exe- 
cution was  less  messy.  How 
many  priests  in  gray  flannel 
habits  sing  its  praises?  How 
many  farms  and  homes  do  you 
destroy  to  clear  its  path? 
What  will  you  not  sacrifice  in 
toil,  cash,  and  inconvenience 
in  its  service?  I  myself  have 
watched  your  people  at  their 
Sunday  afternoon  devotions, 
standing  bumper  to  bumper 
on  the  highway,  their  lips 
moving  in  silent  prayer.  And 
I  have  seen  how  your  male 
children— acolytes,  I  presume 
—anoint  their  heads  with  oil 
and  prostrate  themselves  for 
hours  at  a  time  beneath  the 
sacred  object.  In  its  heathen  way,  such  piety  is 
admirable. 

"But  can  you  afford  it?  Austria  couldn't— and 
I  beg  you  to  profit  from  our  example  while  there 
is  yet  time. 

"We,  too,  had  no  patience  with  anything  old- 
fashioned.  We  tore  down  perfectly  good  Gothic 
churches  and  replaced  them  with  bigger  and 
fancier  models.  For  our  archbishops  and  their 
mistresses  we  built  palaces  by  the  do/en— like  tins 
one  and  Mirabell  and  Hellbrunn.  Every  inch  we 
decorated  with  plaster  curlicues  and  gold  leaf, 
at  immense  expense,  just  as  you  encrust  your 
tolling  temples  with  chrome  and  fins  and  colored 
lights.  Both  you  and  we,  it  seems,  have  an  in- 
satiable taste  for  the  rococo. 

"Nor  did  we  see  anything  wrong  with  combin- 
ing our  religious  life  with  sensuality.  Music  and 
love  and  laughter  were  the  leitmotifs  of  our 
eighteenth  century.  Our  entertainment  industry 
—like  yours— grew  enormous;  our  theaters  and 
ok  hestras  were  the  envy  of  the  world.  Mozart  got 
as  much  homage  as  Dave  Brubeck,  and  almost  as 
much  money.  (Their  work,  as  I  am  sure  you 
have  noticed,  sounds  oddly  similar— two  varieties, 
so   to   speak,   of  baroque   chamber   music.) 

"And  while  we  frivoled  away  our  substance  and 
brain-power  in  this  joyous  outburst  of  creativity, 
a  glum  little  band  of  Frenchmen  were  incubat- 
ing the  revolution  which— a  few  years  later— was 
to  destroy  us.  Nobody  warned  us,  and  perhaps 


Both  Given 


TO  YOUR  CHILD  IF  YOU  AGREE  TO  BUY  THE  NEXT  FOUR  SELECTIONS  OF 

Young  Readers  of  America 


THE   RAND  McNALLY  "WORLD -MASTER"  GLOBE 
and    A    CHILD'S    GEOGRAPHY    OF    THE    WORLD 


START  YOUR  CHILD  ON  THIS  SENSIBLE  PLAN 

DESIGNED   TO   INSTILL  A  LIFETIME  LOVE  OF   GOOD 

BOOKS  AND   ASSIST  HIM-WITHOUT  PRESSURE  — IN 

HIS  SCHOOL  WORK. 

*  THE  PLAN  •  Young  Readers  of  America 
was  organized  several  years  ago  by  the  Book- 
of-the-Month  Club  to  encourage  among  chil- 
dren a  lasting  affection  for  really  worth-while 
reading.  It  is  built  around  a  group  of  quite  re- 
markable books  about  history  —  Landmark  Books  —  which 
"have  fired  the  imagination  and  held  the  attention  of  tens  of 
thousands  of  young  people"  (N.  Y.  Times).  They  are  writ- 
ten by  outstanding  contemporary  authors  most  of  whom 
made  their  reputations  in  the  field  of  serious  adult  writing- 
authors  like  John  Gunther,  Pearl  Buck,  Thomas  B.  Costain, 
Dorothy  Canfield  Fisher,  John  Mason  Brown,  Quentin  Rey- 
nolds and  many  others. 

•  A  FOUR-MONTH  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  is  suggested  so  that 
you  may  see  how  your  own  young  reader  responds  to  the 
idea  over  a  short  period.  To  excite  and  inspire  him  in  the 
beginning,  he  will  receive,  free,  as  enrollment  gifts,  the 
Rand  McNally  "World-Master"  Globe  and  A  Child's 
Geography  of  the  World  by  V.  M.  Hillyer.  With  them 
he  will  receive  the  Landmark  Book  you  select  from  the  four 
listed  at  right,  as  the  first  purchase  under  the  Trial  subscrip- 
tion. Also  included  will  be  fifty  handsome  bookplates  to 
encourage  him  to  build  his  own  library.  At  the  end  of  the 
trial  period,  if  you  do  not  feel  the  plan  is  succeeding  with 
your  child,  the  subscription  can  be  canceled,  or  at  any  time 
thereafter. 

•  THE  SYSTEM  IS  SIMPLE  •  Each  month  (after  the  first  ship- 
ment) your  child  will  receive  a  Landmark  Book  addressed 
to  him  personally,  always  an  exciting  moment  in  any  home 
when  it  happens.  The  special  price  to  members,  lower  than 
the  regular  retail  price  because  of  the  subscription,  is  only 
$1.75  each.  There  is  a  small  charge  for  postage  and  handling. 

•  A  NATURAL  LOVE  OF  GOOD  BOOKS  is  a  lifetime  blessing 
beyond  price.  Besides  the  immediate  pleasure  each  book 
will  give  your  child,  this  plan  is  calculated  to  instill  habitual 
reading.  As  his  collection  grows,  each  book  helps  him  to 
enjoy  his  own  sense  of  "discovery,"  not  influenced  by  you. 
It  is  a  highly  important  part  of  this  picture  that  children  who 
love  good  books,  as  most  educators  point  out,  also  can  be 
relied  upon  to  become  natural,  good  students. 


ALSO  GIVEN  TO 

ENCOURAGE    LIBRARY 

BUILDING  .  .  . 

50  BOOKPLATES 


Young  Readers  of  America 

A  BRANCH  OF  BOOK  OF  THE  MONTH  CLUB,  INC. 


BEGIN  THE  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  WITH  ONE  OF  THESE 


WILD  BILL 

HICKOK 

by  Stewart 
Holbrook 


ALEXA 
THE  G 

by  John 
Gunther       f 


THESTORYOF 

THE  SECRET 

SERVICE 

by  Ferdinand 
Kuhn 

MARIE 
ANTOINETTE 

by  Bernardlne 
Klelty 


Book-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc.,  345  Hudson  Street,  New  York  14,  N.  Y.    13-1 
YOUNG  READERS  OF  AMERICA*  Bronch 

Please  enroll  the  child  named  below  in  a  four-month  trial  subscrip- 
tion to  Young  Readers  of  America  and  send  him  free  the  Rand 
McNally  "World-Master"  Globe  and  A  Child's  Geography  of  the 
World  with  the  first  Landmark  Book  indicated  below.  Also  send  the 
50  bookplates,  free.  You  are  to  send  the  child  one  Landmark  Book 
each  month  and  bill  me  at  $1.75  (plus  a  few  cents  postage)  for  each 
book.  I  may  cancel  the  membership  at  any  time  after  buying  four 
books  for  the  child. 

As  the  child's  first  bock,  please  send 

(Choose  one  of  the  hooka  pictured  above) 

Information  requested  on  this  order  should  be  filled  in  by  parent  or 
donor— PLEASE  PRINT 
SEND 
BOOKS  TO 


NAME   OF   CHILD 


Street, 
City_ 


_Zone_ 


_State_ 


Mr. 

ORDERED  BY    Mrs 

Mis; 

Street 


;l 


NAME  OF  PARENT  OR  DONOR 


City_ 


Zone  _ 


.State, 


YR-23 


*  Trademark  of  Book-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc. 


| 


16 


Two  heads  are  better  than  one 


Elementary?  Of  course.  That's  why  it's  a  proverb.  Because 
it's  common  sense  in  a  capsule  —  the  kind  of  common  sense 
you  may  find  it  worthwhile  to  apply  to  your  investment  situa- 
tion, especially  in  the  present  circumstance. 

You  may  be  completely  sure  that  the  securities  you  own  are 
the  best  investments  you  can  find.  If  that"-  the  way  you  feel  — 
fine.  But  if  you  would  like  someone  else  to  take  a  look  at  your 
holdings,  if  you'd  like  to  study  another  set  of  recommendations 
and  compare  points  of  agreement  and  disagreement,  our  ad- 
vice is  yours  for  the  asking. 

Just  come  in  and  talk  with  us  about  your  situation  or  write 
to  us  about  it,  and  well  give  you  the  best  appraisal  we  can 
based  on  the  findings  of  our  Research  Department.  Vm  incur 
no  charge  or  obligation.  Just  call  or  write — 


Merrill  Lynch,  Pierce,  Fenner  &  Beane 

Members  New  York  Stock  Exchange  and  all  other  Principal  Exchanges 

70  Pine  Street,  New  York  5,  N.  Y. 

Offices  in  112  Cities 


...with  Railway  Thrift  Coupons 


London  to  G/amis  (466  miles)  $10.02 

See  panoramic  views  of  Britain  from  comfortable  and 
swift,  modern  British  Railways  trains.  See  how  far  your 
dollars  go  with  Thrift  Coupons  .  .  .  1,000  miles  of  go-as- 
you-please  rail  travel  for  $21  (2nd  class)  . . .  $31.50  (1st 
class).  Also  good  on  Irish  cross-channel  and  MacBrayne's 
steamers.  Additional  miles  at  commensurate  savings. 
Valid  for  six  months.  Buy  Thrift  Coupons  from  your 
travel  agent  before  you  leave.  Not  sold  overseas. 


BRITISH    RAILWAYS 


OFFICES  IN  NEW  YORK  •  CHICAGO  •   LOS  ANGELES  •  TORONTO 

Want  "planning  literature"?  Write  British  Railways,  9  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  York  20,  N.  Y.,  Dept.  F8-1 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 

we  wouldn't  have  listened  it  ihc\ 
had.  Who  could  believe  that  ;i 
ridiculous  fat  man  named  Bonaparte 

might  one  day  stable  his  cavalry  in 
our  clniH  Iks? 

"He  was  .1  crude  type,  interested 
in  cannon,  not  culture.  Almost  as 
crude  as  the  Russians  who  made  the 
•sputnik  while  \ou  were  making  the 
Edsel.  Now  I  don't  doubt  that  the 
F.ilsel  is  an  icon  ol  surpassing  loveli- 
ness. Hut  is  it  practical?  At  this 
moment  in  history  can  you  really 
afford  to  go  on  spending  a  billion 
dollars  every  year  to  make  purely 
cosmetic  changes  in  your  automo- 
biles? A  less  poetic  nation,  I  should 
think,  might  use  its  money  and  its 
talent  in  less  romantic  ways. 

"No,  no,  I  am  not  talking  about 
lockets.  You  will  get  those,  all  right, 
because  your  pride  has  been 
wounded.  But  the  contest  between 
you  and  the  Russians  will  not  be 
decided  with  rockets.  You  will  have 
to  keep  them  in  reserve,  ol  course, 
bul  neither  side  will  dare  to  use 
them;  you  may  be  dreamy,  but  1 
don't  think  you  are  suicidal. 

"Meanwhile  the  contest  will  be 
fought  with  Ear  subtler  weapons- 
weapons  which  you  apparently  can't 
build,  and  haven.'t  the  faintest  idea 
how  to  use.  Know-how— isn't  that; 
the  phrase?  Well,  you  Americans 
just  haven't  got  it. 

"Take  diplomacy,  for  example. 
Since  war  is  no  longer  feasible, 
diplomacy  obviously  has  become  a 
decisive  instrument.  The  Com- 
munists have  known  this  for  a  long 
time,  and  they  have  built  a  formi- 
dable diplomatic  machine.  All  of  its 
parts  are  tooled  and  polished  to 
mesh  together— a  corps  of  highly 
trained  diplomats,  a  superb  intel- 
ligence apparatus,  an  even  better 
propaganda  set-up,  military  pressure 
where  needed,  and  all  the  economic 
levers  from  trade  pacts  to  bribery. 
They  have  been  using  it  to  win  one 
thumping  victory  after  another. 

"You  Americans,  on  the  other 
hand,  apparently  don't  even  know 
what  diplomacy  is.  You  still  think  of 
it  in  terms  of  striped  pants  and  tea- 
si  ppers,  and  you  treat  its  practi- 
tioners with  contempt,  as  if  they 
were  male  ballet  dancers. 

"Your  policies— if  I  may  use  the 
word  loosely— never  seem  to  mesh. 
Your  President,  Vice  President,  and 
Secretary    of   State    sometimes    issue 


Traveler's 
Guide 


to 


good  food 


in  Britain 


THE  BRITISH  BREAKFAST.  Gargantuan  is  the 
word.  Where  else  can  you  order  mixed 
grill,  smoked  kipper  and  finnan  haddie? 
Tea  is  the  national  eye-opener.  But  most 
hotels  offer  coffee  as  a  choice. 


the  British  tea  CEREMONY.  Victorian  wits 
called  it  a  "bun-worry."  Tea  includes 
buns,  cakes,  tarts,  crumpets,  muffins,  and 
exquisite  little  sandwiches.  Go  North  for 
scones.  Go  West  for  Devonshire  Cream. 


ROAST  BEEF.  The  roast  beef  of  Old  Eng- 
land is  here  in  all  its  glory.  The  British 
do  not  smother  meat  with  rich  sauces. 
Steaks  come  thick  and  rare.  Southdown 
lamb  gets  a  touch  of  red  currant  jelly. 


HEAVENLY  FISH.  No  place  in  Britain  is 
more  than  75  miles  from  the  sea.  The 
fish  almost  jump  into  the  pot.  Above  is 
a  Scotch  salmon.  Gourmets  leave  home 
for  it.  Likewise,  for  English  oysters. 


unbeatable  GAME.  British  cooks  really 
understand  game.  Grouse  from  Scotland. 
Partridge  and  pheasant  from  the  great 
estates.  Order  a  bottle  of  claret.  British 
cellars  are  the  envy  of  the  world. 


POETIC  cheeses.  Is  there  a  finer  cheese 
than  Stilton?  It  takes  six  months  to  reach 
perfection.  Honest  British  bread  and 
beer  go  down  well  with  all  the  local 
cheeses.  Try  the  supreme   Wensleydale. 


fabulous  fruit.  Britain's  fruit  ripens 
slowly.  Taste  Royal  Sovereign  strawber- 
ries. They  have  more  flavor  than  the 
American  strawberry.  Same  is  true  of 
English  peaches,  apples  — and  jams. 


REGIONAL  dishes.  Feeling  adventurous? 
Try  Cumberland  rum  butter  and  the 
mysterious  Scotch  haggis.  Taste  the  pies 
—  Melton  Mowbray,  Kentish  Chicken. 
Lunch  in  most  places  costs  under  $1.50! 


FREE !  Gourmet  Magazine's  72-page  Guide  to  Britain,  listing  over  250  famous  restaurants.  Write  Box  17  5,  British  Travel  A 


ssoctation. 


¥ 


'BOM   THE  JOHNNIE   WALK  El!  COLLECTION 


End  of  the  Hunt 


5J 


by  JOHN  CARROLT 


The  Artist  at  U  orh 


Sensitivity  strokes  every  Carroll  canvas,  capturing  spirit 
as  clearly  as  substance. 

In  1820,  sensil  ivity  to  quality  stirred  John  Walker  to 
produce  another  kind  of  masterpiece  —  Johnnie  Walker 
Black  Label  Scotch  whisky.  It  took  time.  It  took  a  tech- 
nique of  whisky-making  which  no  one  else  possessed.  But 
what  rich  rewards!  To  collectors  of  the  world's  linest  offer- 
ings, Black  Label  fills  the  niche  reserved  for  "product  of 
genius." 


Johnnie  Wai 

Bom  182C 

still  going  stt 


DEMONSTRATION  OFFER 

OF  NEW  BOOKS  OF 

HISTORY  and  WORLD  AFFAIRS 


Take  any  3  for  only  $3M. 


1  hf B- 


(VALUES   UP  TO   $24.00) 


Here  is  an  amazingly  generous  demon- 
stration offer.  It  is  made  solely  to 
prove  to  you  how  much  you  will  enjoy  the 
WIDE  VARIETY  of  important  new  books 
of  history  and  world  affairs  you  can  get  at 
cash  savings  through  the  History  Book  Club. 

The  distinguished  selections  pictured  on 
this  page  —  all  handsomely  bound,  and 
many  of  them  illustrated  —  sell  for  as  much 
as  $8.50  each  at  publishers'  list  prices.  But 
we  invite  you  to  choose  ANY  THREE  for 
only  $3.95,  if  you  join  the  History  Book 
Club  on  this  Trial  Membership  Offer. 

The  History  Book  Club  selections  are 
chosen  by  an  eminent  Board  of  Historians 
made  up  of  Dumas  Malone,  Walter  Millis 
and  Louis  B.  Wright.  Each  book  is  de- 
scribed to  you  —  in  advance  —  in  a  careful 
and  objective  review.  If  you  do  not  want 
a  book,  you  merely  return  a  printed  form 
(always  provided)  and  it  will  not  be  sent. 
You  may  accept  as  few  as  four  selections 
or  alternates  a  year,  and  resign  at  any  time 
after  accepting  four  such  books. 

You  receive  a  valuable  Free  Bonus  Book 
with  every  fourth  purchase  after  your  ini- 
tial selection.  (Last  year,  counting  the 
value  of  Bonus  Books,  members  saved  an 
average  of  $3.16  on  each  selection.)  And,  in 
addition  to  current  selections,  a  great  many 
other  important  new  books  are  always 
available  to  you,  at  special  Members'  low 
prices  and  with  full  Bonus  Credit. 

Right  now,  choose  ANY  THREE  books 
from  this  page  (values  to  $24.00)  for  only 
$3.95.  Mail  entire  coupon  now  —  without 
monev  —  to  History  Book  Club,  Inc.,  Dept. 
HA-21,  40  Guernsey  St.,  Stamford,  Conn. 


liMcUGMMcMMfflMDMiiM^ 


THE  HISTORY  BOOK  CLUB,  Inc.,  Bept.  ha-21 
40  Guernsey  St.,  Stamford,  Conn. 

Send  me  at  once  the  THREE 
books  I  have  checked,  two  as  my 
enrollment  gift  and  one  as  my 
first  selection,  and  bill  me  ONLY 
$3.95  (plus  a  few  cents  for  post- 
age and  packing).  Forthcoming 
selections  will  be  described  to  me 
in  advance,  and  I  may  decline 
any  book  simply  by  returning  a 
printed  form.  You  will  send  me  a 
valuable  FREE  BONUS  BOOK 
each  time  I  purchase  four  addi- 
tional selections  or  alternates.  My 
only  obligation  is  to  accept  four 
selections  or  alternates  in  the 
first  year  I  am  a  member,  and  I 
may  resign  at  any  time  after  ac- 
cepting four  such  books. 

GUARANTEE:  If  not  completely  satisfied, 
I  may  return  my  first  shipment  within  7 
days,  and  membership  will  be  cancelled. 


□ 


MEMOIRS  OF  GEN.  WM. T.SHERMAN. 

His  own  story,  in  his  own  words, 
of  what  it  was  like  to  lead  the  most 
damned-and-praised  campaign  of  the 
Civil  War— and  one  of  the  most  devas- 
tating of  all   time.    List  price  $8.00. 

I — |     MERCHANT    OF    PRAT0    by   Iris 

I I     Origo.  Extraordinary  biography 

of  a  14th  centuty  European— from  his 
own,  utterly  frank  writings  on  life, 
trade,  manners  and  morals  on  the  eve 
of  the  Renaissance.  List  price  $7.50. 
t — I     HISTORY  OF  THE  GERMAN  GENERAL 

I I     STAFF   by  Walter  Goerlitz.  The 

great  military  geniuses— their  person- 
alities, triumphs  and  fatal  mistakes. 
List  price  $7.50. 

THE  TREE  OF  CULTURE  fey  Ralph 

Linton.  Man's  religions, sciences, 
family  habits  and  civilizations— from 
tribal    beginnings    to    modern    times. 
List  price  $7.50. 
I — |     A    WORLD    RESTORED    by    Henry 

I I     Kissinger.  A  new  look  at  one  of 

Europe's  epochal  moments  —  when 
Metternich's  genius  resolved  the  chaos 
after  Napoleon's  defeat,  and  set  up 
a  peace  destined  to  last  a  hundred 
years.  List  price  $6.00. 

MIGHTY  STONEWALL  by  Frank  E. 

Vandiver.    What    kind    of    man 

was  this  military  genius  — who  would 

Address n°t  fight  on  Sunday?  List  price  $6.50. 

KINGDOM  OF  THE  SAINTS  fey  Ray 


□ 


Name. 


D 


City. 


.Zone. 


□ 


State ' ha-21 


West,  Jr.  The  story  of  the  Mor- 
mons —  their  hard-fought  beginnings, 
unique  religious  rites,  plural  mar- 
riages, and  their  place  in  our  culture 
today.  List  price  $6.00. 


BYZANTIUM:  Greatness  and  Decline 
by  Charles  Diehl.  Compelling 
record  of  the  splendor  and  barbarity, 
grandeur  and  decadence  of  a  famous 
capital.  List  price  $8.50. 

A  HISTORY  OF  FRANCE  by  Andre 
Maurois.  A  great  author's  mas- 
terful new  history  of  victories,  defeats 
.  .  .  kings,  mistresses,  politicians  and 
heroes.   List  price  $7.50. 

TESTIMONY  OF  THE  SPADE  by 
Geoffrey  Bibby.  Thrilling  ''you 
are  there"  reenactment  of  the  lives, 
customs  and  religions  of  prehistory— 
from  Stone  Age  savagery  to  the  dawn 
of  civilization.  List  price  $6.75. 

ARMS  AND  MEN  by  Walter  Millis. 
This  remarkable  study- in-depth 
of  U.  S.  military  history— its  weapons 
and  warriors,  its  hot  and  cold  wars- 
leads  to  a  surprising  new  estimate  of 
our  military's  place  in  the  world  of 
today.  List  price  $5.75. 

MILITARY  HISTORY  OF  MODERN 
CHINA  by  F.  F.  Liu.  The  tri- 
umphs and  defeats  of  Chiang's  China, 
through  world  war,  civil  war  and  in- 
ternational upheaval.  List  price  $6.00. 

THE  RED  ARMY  Ed.  by  B.H. Liddell 
Hart.  The  power  and  potential 
of  the  Soviet  war  machine,  explained 
in  full  by  noted  military  experts  — 
some  who  fought  for  Russia,  some 
who  fought  against.  List  price  $6.00. 
I — I     RETURN    TO    POWER    by    Alistair 

I I     Home.     Eye-opening    story    of 

Germany's  post-war  "come-back"— 
how  it  happened,  why  it  happened  and 
who  accomplished  it.  List  price  $6.00. 


□ 


□ 


□ 


D 


□ 


□ 


EMSMSMrMMrM 


18 


COMING   IN 


Harpers 

-■-  m  n  an  -in 


HOW  TO  CHOOSE 
A  COLLEGE 

Millions  of  families  are  arguing 
the  same  vexing  questions:  Should 
they  send  their  children  to  college? 
And  if  so.  to  which?  The  head  of 
the  Carnegie  Corporation — who  is 
intimately  familiar  with  the  great 
variety  of  American  universities — 
offers  some  helpful  guideposts  for 
both  parents  and  students. 

By  John  W.  Gardner 


WHAT    TWO    LAWYERS 
ARE  DOING  TO  HOLLYWOOD 

By  flying  in  the  face  of  the  most 
entrenched  traditions  of  the  film 
business.  Robert  S.  Benjamin  and 
Arthur  B.  Krim  saved  United 
Artists  from  extinction  —  and 
changed  the  social  structure  of  the 
movie  world,  while  they  both  grew 
rich. 

By  Murray  Teigh  Bloom 


THE     EDITOR* S     EASY     CHAIR 


NEXT   MONTH 


George  F.  Ken  nan  .  .  . 

attracted  world-wide  attention 
with  his  recent  proposals,  broad- 
cast over  BBC,  for  a  drastic  shift 
in  American  policy  in  dealing 
with  Russia.  Germany,  the  I  nited 
Nations,  and  the  NATO  alliance. 

Their  exclusive  publication  in 
the  United  States  will  begin  in 
Februarv. 


three  contradictory  statements  on 
three  successive  days.  Any  blabber- 
mouthed  Congressman,  general,  or 
Faubus  can  destroy  months  of  pa- 
tient diplomatic  effort  in  a  single 
hour,  and  often  does. 

You  do  have  a  few  competent 
diplomats  —  Charles  Bohlen  and 
George  Kennan  probably  know  as 
much  about  Russia  as  an)  men  in 
the  West— but  for  some  reason 
(which  no  foreigner  can  possibly  un- 
derstand) you  refuse  to  use  them. 
One  of  them  is  rusting  in  Manila, 
the  other  is  lecturing  at  Oxford. 

"What  you  do  use  is  a  herd  of 
amateurs.  Your  Whitney  s  and  your 
Glucks  are  estimable  gentlemen,  no 
doubt,  with  a  cultivated  taste  for 
race  horses  and  convertible  deben- 
tures—but in  an  Embassy  they  are 
strictly  greenhorns.  You  wouldn't 
dream  of  asking  them  to  play  first 
bas<  tor  the  Yankees,  or  to  fix  your 
carburetor,  or  to  fill  your  teeth.  For 
these  jobs  you  insist  on  professionals. 
Yet  when  your  survival  as  a  nation 
is  at  issue,  you  call  in  any  stray 
millionaire  who  happened  to  contri- 
bute   to    the   right   campaign    fund. 

"You  see  why  we  foreigners  can- 
not believe  that  you  are  a  serious 
people?'' 

\\  /    1TH      considerable      cliffi- 

\  v  culty,  I  managed  to  inter- 
rupt. Only  millionaires,  I  pointed 
out,  could  afford  to  accept  appoint- 
ment to  a  major  Embassy.  By  ancient 
tradition  the  United  States  does  not 
pay  its  Foreign  Service  professionals 
enough  to  cover  the  running  costs 
of  such  a  post. 

"Thank  you,"  he  said,  "for  re- 
minding me  of  another  American 
habit  which  lias  always  baffled  me. 
Why  are  you  always  unwilling  to 
pay  for  what  you   need  most? 

"In  helping  others  you  are  incred- 
ibl)  generous.  For  luxuries— from 
deodorants  to  mink  stoles— you 
spend  your  money  with  childlike 
abandon.  But  when  it  comes  to  the 
real  necessities,  you  are  stingier  than 
a  Styrian  peasant. 

"For  the  price  of  one  ballistic 
missile,  for  one-tenth  of  what  your 
women  spend  on  lipstick,  you  could 
staff  all  your  Embassies  with  well- 
trained  professionals.  And  that  is 
a  comparatively  petty  example. 
Take  a  big  one. 

"All    of    you    seem    to    be    pretty 


well  in  agreement  that  you  need 
schoolteachers.  You  have  discov- 
ered, with  alarm,  that  the  Rus- 
sians arc  wa)  ahead  of  you  in  the 
kind  of  education  that  pays  oft 
Their  children  get  more  hours  of 
instruction  in  ten  years  than  yours 
get  in  twelve— and  better  instruction, 
too,  because  they  average  seventeen 
pupils  to  a  class,  while  you  average 
twenty-seven.  They  turn  out  eighty 
thousand  engineers  a  year;  you  turn 
out  thirty  thousand.  All  their  high- 
school  graduates  have  a  good,  stiff 
training  in  mathematics,  physics,  and 
chemistry:  less  than  a  third  of  yours 
can  match  them  in  any  one  of  these 
fields. 

"What  is  more  important  still, 
Russian  students  learn  foreign  lan- 
guages. In  their  higher  institutions, 
65  per  cent  of  them  study  English 
alone.  How  many  Americans  learn 
Russian?    One  per  cent? 

"This  fact  ought  to  scare  you  more 
than  the  sputnik.  Because  skill  in 
languages— not  just  tor  a  few  people, 
but  for  millions— is  the  place  where 
a  successful  foreign  policy  begins. 
When  a  Russian  goes  abroad  for  any 
purpose,  he  can  talk  to  the  local 
people  in  their  own  tongue— whether 
they  are  Arab  villagers  or  Burmese 
guerrillas  or  French  scientists.  When 
Colonel  Rudolph  Abel  set  up  his  spy 
center  in  Brooklyn  he  spoke  Brook- 
Iynese  like  a  Flatbush  bartender. 
When  Soviet  technicians  build  a 
steel  mill  in  India,  their  plans  are 
(halted  in  Hindi. 

"Yet  of  the  half-million  Americans 
who  travel  overseas  ever)  year,  I 
don't  think  I  have  met  a  dozen  who 
could  manage  even  the  simpler 
European  languages  with  fluency. 
By  the  way,  how  well  do  you  speak 
German?" 


FATHER  Florian  had  the  tact 
not  to  wait  for  an  answer,  (f 
would  have  had  to  tell  him  that  I 
can  order  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  that 
—in  a  pinch— I  can  ask  whether  the 
train  is  on  time.  If  the  stationmaster 
speaks  slowly  enough,  I  can  often 
understand  his  reply.) 

"The  Russians  got  ahead  of  you," 
he  said,  "because  they  are  hard- 
headed  businessmen  who  understand  i 
the  law  of  supply  and  demand. 
When  they  wanted  teachers  they 
paid   for   them.    Not   just   in   cash— 

""" -"" ii 


lf% 


FROM 


jheJHetropolitanMuseum  of  Art 


2,4  FULL-COLOR  MINIATURES 


OF  FAMOUS 
PAINTINGS  BY 


^Vincent  van  £jogl 


A  DEMONSTRATION 

WITHOUT  CHARGE 

of  a  simple  and  sensible  way — particularly 

for  families  with  children — to  obtain 

a  well-rounded  education  in  the  history  and 

appreciation  of  art 

THE  METROPOLITAN  MINIATURES  PLAN  .  Otice  a 
~en:h  :he  Museun  -e?::.:_;e>  2.  ?e lee:  ?r  :""r....r.:- 
ings  infun color.  Each  >e:  deals  witii  a  different  artist 
or  school  and  contains  24  fine  color  prints  (^slightly 
larger  than  shown  at  right)  ani  ;  JZ-nje  album, 
in  which  the  artist  and  his  work  are  discussed,  and 
in  which  the  prints  can  be  affixed  in  giver  57i;es. 
In  effect  the  project  is  an  informal  but  compre- 
hensf  re  coarse,  in  both  the  hist  c--  and  irrreciadon 
of  art,  for  rer>.::ii  of  all  ages. 

ONE-MONTH  FREE  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION.  WITH  NO 
OBLIGATION — to  acquaint  you  with  the  pro  set  A: 
no  expense  you  car.  examine  :he  24  miniature  re- 
.  ons  of  paintings  bv  Vincent  van  Gogh, 
read  the  album— then  cej  fe,       .hin  the  month. 

tether  or  1  •        continue.  If  not,  s  ny. 

let  us  know  and  we  shall  immedia.e     cancel  this 
provisional  subscription.  No  matter 
incision,  the  introducer.  Vincent  van  Gogh  ?e: 
5  free  The  price  For  each  set    if    do  continue    is 
SI. 25,    ochid  Dg  the  album.  With  the  first  >e:  pur- 

.   srv  sixth  set  thereafter 
. . :  ve  free  a  handsome  portfolio  which  holds  six 
albums. 

PLEASE  NOTE:  Since  the  Metre 

une^  handle  the  details  hi 

project,  i:  das  arranged  to  ha'  e  the  Boofc-of-the- 

Month  (    ib  at    as        al  distributor    T  k 

selection  of  suh:ec:< 

n  or  prints  remain  whollv  under  the  supervision 
.  M  .>eum. 


SLIGHTLY  LARGER 
THAN  THIS 


sCC<-CI-"-:-WCS""-     ;.-:-:  ::-' 

345  Hudson  Street,  Ne  -      :-<     -    S.  Y. 

ase  send  —=  1:   race   I-  :'_.    :  aes    _-; 

'.  3  —  >—      .-.   Goge  10*3   :       zt    T\  s 

-.  .    ■    iered  2  oriel  sobscripQCQ.  lies 
::  rsmevt    aoconimg  --Z  ;:_"  aTxer.  wirizirj  :re   ~ 

;  thereafter    Ifl  Eontnme   u':=-  :-.i  free  set 
:i  S  -  23    "or  aacti  set  of  Mmssttses  iftmra 

besenre  er   5ecorai  metntb 

•    ■  -  .  i. _-_.—  ;.  .-.z:::  Sana    portfc     :  ie 

-;:     ;  ::  ixaifrmie  :  -  oo<  toe  free  5^:  j=  — .  fee  ::  fceeo 


! 


«••-: 


20 


Imagine  Making 
$5,000  a  Year  Writing 
in  Your  Spare  Time! 

Fantastic?  Not  at  All  .  .  .  Hundreds 
of  People  Make  That  Much  or  More 
Every    Year  -  and   Have   Fun   Doing  It  I 

Some  authors  may  be  born  but  most  are  made. 
You  can  learn  writing  just  as  you  learn  anything 
else.  There's  no  mystery.  It  is,  in  fact,  surprisingly 
simple.  Yoifr  next  door  neighbor,  unknown  to  you, 
may  be  depositing  publishers'  checks  regularly.  If 
ehe  is,  the  chances  are  100  to  1  that  it  is  because  she 
learned  her  trade.  And  you  can  learn  the  funda- 
mentals you  must  know  to  succeed  as  a  writer. 

The  famous  NYS  course  offers  COMPLETE 
training  .  .  .  fiction  and  non-fiction.  Your  instruc- 
tors are  active  editors  and  writers  .  .  .  and  your 
salable  scripts  will  be  marketed  on  a  10%  commis- 
sion basis  by  the  leading  literary  agent  who  placed, 
among  other  successes,  the  famous  book  and  play 
THE  TEAHOUSE  OF  THE  AUGUST  MOON. 
Send  for  free  information  today.  No  salesman  will 
call  od  you. 

—  FREE   BOOKLET   COUPON  — 

fl 

■      D 


The  New  York  School  of  Writing 
Depl.  284,  2  Ea»l  45th  Street 
New  York  17,  New  York 

Please  send  rae  without  obligation,  your  free  booklet 
"Writing  tor  a  Well-paying  Career." 

Nam* 

Street 

City 

Licensed  by  the  State  of  New  York 


Carnival  Time 


Torch-light  parades  dog-sled  races,  ski  races, 
ice  palaces,  fireworks,  beauty  queens.  Special 
events  day  and  night  from  Feb.  1  to  Feb.  18. 
And,  remember  that  all  winter  sports  are  at 
their  best  in  Quebec.  Where  the  snow  is  deep, 
the  sun  is  bright,  the  air  dry  and  clean. 

For     tree     booklets,     write:     Provincial     Publicity 

Bureau,    Parliamentary    Buildings,    Quebec    City, 

Canada,  or:  48  Rockefeller  Plaza, 

New  York  City  20,  N.  Y. 


PROVINCE  DE 


THE     EDITOR'S     EASY     CHAIR 


professors  do  get  the  equivalent  of 
about  $50,000  a  year.  They  also 
offered  something  more  important: 
prestige.  In  any  Soviet  town  a 
teacher  is  a  Big  Man.  He  enjoys  as 
much  standing  in  the  community  as 
a  real  estate  speculator  in  New  York 
or  an  oil-lease  broker  in  Dallas.  He 
lives  in  the  best  suburb,  gets  the  best 
table  in  restaurants,  and  is  invited  to 
the  best  parties.  So  their  bright 
youngsters  head  for  the  teaching 
profession  just  as  naturally  as  yours 
head  for  Wall  Street  or  Madison 
Avenue. 

"But  you  Americans  have  never 
learned  to  meet  a  payroll— not  in 
your  schools,  anyhow.  You  offer 
teachers  less  than  truck  drivers,  and 
then  you  wonder  why  you  have  135,- 
000  classroom  jobs  unfilled.  I  have 
even  heard— but  this  I  can't  believe, 
it  must  be  Communist  propaganda— 
that  some  of  your  universities  will 
pay  more  for  a  football  coach  than 
for  a  physics  professor. 

"With  my  own  eyes,  however,  I 
have  seen  how  you  go  out  of  your 
way  to  make  your  scholars  feel  dis- 
reputable. You  ridicule  them  in  TV 
shows  and  comic  strips.  Your  poli- 
ticians harass  them.  Their  own 
pupils  treat  them  with  disrespect. 
You  call  them  names.  Incidentally, 
would  you  be  good  enough  to  ex- 
plain precisely  what  you  mean  by 
the  term  'egghead?'  ...  I  see . . .  Then 
tell  me  this:  who  but  an  egghead  can 
make  an  intercontinental  missile? 

"Or,  for  that  matter,  a  workable 
foreign  policy.  As  I  was  saying  a 
moment  ago,  this  is  where  your  im- 
practicality  shows  up  in  its  most  em- 
barrassing form.  In  other  aspects  of 
life  you  often  behave  with  good 
sense;  if  a  carpet  sweeper  or  an  add- 
ing machine  breaks  down,  you  get 
a  new  one.  But  when  a  foreign 
policy  doesn't  work,  you  cling  to  it 
all  the  tighter— out  of  sheer  senti- 
mentality, I  suppose.  Your  China 
policy  has  been  a  farce  for  the  last 
five  years;  your  German  rx>licy  is 
stalled  on  dead  center;  your  Middle 
East  policy  has  failed  beyond  the 
Kremlin's  wildest  hopes.  Yet  you 
cherish  them  like  heirlooms. 

"Much  as  our  beloved  Emperor 
Franz  Josef  did.  He  was  a  well-mean- 
ing old  gentleman  who  devoted  most 
of  his  time  to  shooting  rabbits— golf 
had  not  reached  Austria  in  his  day. 
He  was  not  an  intellectual  and  he 


suffered  from  a  sentimental  attach- 
ment to  old  mistresses  and  old  doc- 
trines. He  never  would  let  go  til  his 
Balkan  policy,  for  example,  even 
when  it  plainly  was  dragging  him  to 
disaster.  He  was,  you  may  remem- 
ber, the  last  of  our  emperors.  .  .  . 

"It  is  this  same  soft-hearted  streak, 
apparently,  which  keeps  you  from 
using  what  strength  you  have.  You 
may  be  slipping  militarily,  but  your 
economic  strength  is  still  unmatched. 
Here  is  your  obvious  instrument  for 
a  diplomatic  offensive  which  might 
still  save  the  western  world. 

"The  Russians  already  have 
showed  you  how,  and  with  a  fraction 
of  your  resources.  They  have  used  a 
few  million  rubles  worth  of  trade 
agreements— deployed  along  with 
their  other  diplomatic  weapons— to 
rope  in  Egypt  and  Syria,  and  they 
are  moving  fast  in  India,  Burma, 
and  Ceylon. 

"Why  do  you  let  them  get  away 
with  it?  Because— correct  me  if  I  am 
wrong— you  insist  on  tying  your 
hands  with  a  protective  tariff.  To 
protect  what?  A  couple  of  watch- 
makers, a  bicycle  manufacturer,  and 
a  few  clothespin  factories  in  Ver- 
mont. Because  these  gentlemen  do 
not  believe  in  the  competitive  free 
enterprise  system,  they  have  been 
weeping  on  the  shoulders  of  Con- 
gress—to such  good  effect  that  your 
present  Trade  Agreements  Act 
(modest  as  it  is)  may  be  gutted  when 
it  comes  up  for  renewal  in  June. 

"Only  a  nation  of  bleeding  hearts 
would  throw  away  its  sharpest 
weapon,  in  the  midst  of  dubious 
battle,  for  the  sake  of  such  a  hard- 
luck  story.  Can  a  country  so  im- 
practical, so  muddle-headed,  be 
trusted  in  a  harsh  material  world? 
Do  you  understand  why  we  Euro- 
peans hesitate  to  tie  our  fate  to  yours 
—however  charming  your  culture 
may  be?" 

TH  E  bottle  was  empty.  The 
clock  was  striking  two,  and 
even  the  bathroom  ghost  had  given 
up  for  the  night.  I  was  relieved 
when  Father  Florian  at  last  heaved 
himself  out  of  the  chair  and  wad- 
dled to  the  door.  He  had  not,  I  felt, 
been  altogether  considerate.  He  had 
known  that  I  still  had  to  prepare 
my  notes  for  tomorrow  morning's 
reassuring  lecture  about  the  United 
States. 


PrLrtSOINAJL  and  otherwise 


Among  Our  Contributors 


THE    NEW 

SAN     FRANCISCANS 

TH  E  loudest  recent  challenge 
to  New  York  as  the  nation's 
literary  capital  has  come  from  the 
writers  of  the  "San  Francisco  Renais- 
sance." These  are  a  branch  of  the 
Beat  Generation  and  are  few  in 
number— the  entire  generation  may 
include  only  some  twenty  members, 
according  to  Bruce  Bliven  in  his 
article  on  San  Francisco  in  this  issue 
of  Harper's.  On  purely  literary  evi- 
dence as  read  in  the  East,  the  San 
Franciscans  turn  out  to  be  not  only 
a  scanty  band  but  a  slippery  one. 
For  most  of  them,  San  Francisco  may 
be  a  spiritual  home,  but  it  is  not  the 
place  where  they  have  roots. 

At  present  Jack  Kerouac,  whose 
novel,  On  the  Road,  hit  the  best- 
seller lists  not  long  after  its  publica- 
tion by  the  Viking  Press  last  fall,  is 
the  only  popularly  known  writer  in 
the  group.  His  book  was  called  a 
major  work  by  Gilbert  Millstein  in 
the  New  York  Times,  compared  with 
The  Sun  Also  Rises  and  Of  Time 
and  the  River;  and  in  Harper's  Paul 
Pickrel  bracketed  it  with  John  Os- 
borne's play,  Look  Back  in  Anger, 
as  a  vigorous  expression  of  revolt 
against  conventional  middle-class 
life. 

But  Kerouac  was  born  in  Lowell, 
Massachusetts,  attended  Columbia 
College,  and  didn't  hit  the  West 
Coast  to  stay  for  any  length  of  time 
until  after  his  wartime  service  in  the 
Merchant  Marine.  Now  he  probably 
spends  as  much  time  anywhere  else 
as  in  San  Francisco. 

Except  for  Kerouac,  none  of  the 
"San  Francisco  writers"  has  made  as 
much  of  an  impression  in  the  East 
as  Kenneth  Rexroth  has  made  for 
them.  At  fifty-two,  Indiana-born 
Rexroth,  poet,  painter,  and  trans- 
lator, is  a  generation  beyond  the 
Beat;  and  he  consciously  stands 
apart  as  he  explains  them  (in  New 
World  Writing,  XI): 

"There  is  only  one  trouble  about 
the  renaissance  in  San  Francisco.  It 


is  too  far  away  from  the  literary 
market  place.  That,  of  course,  is  the 
reason  why  the  Bohemian  remnant, 
the  avant  garde  have  migrated  here. 
It  is  possible  to  hear  the  story  about 
what  so-and-so  said  to  someone  else 
at  a  cocktail  party  twenty  years  ago 
just  one  too  many  times.  You  grab 
a  plane  or  get  on  your  thumb  and 
hitchhike  to  the  other  side  of  the 
continent  for  good  and  all.  Each 
generation,  the  great  Latin  poets 
came  from  farther  and  farther  from 
Rome.  Eventually,  they  ceased  to 
even  go  there  except  to  see  the 
sights." 

After  thirty  years  in  San  Francisco, 
Rexroth  has  authority  to  talk  about 
what  he  sees  from  where  he  sits. 
More  authority,  incidentally,  than 
most  of  the  other  authors  included 
in  the  Grove  Press  publication,  San 
Francisco  Scene,  which  brought  out 
verse  and  prose  by  eighteen  writers 
last  fall.  Only  five  of  the  eighteen 
are  native  Californians  and  none  of 
these  five  rings  a  bell  in  Eastern  ears. 
The  most  famous  man  in  the  collec- 
tion is  Henry  Miller,  who  settled 
in  the  Big  Sur  about  thirteen  years 
ago  after  a  colorful  writing  career  in 
New  York  and  abroad.  Like  Rex- 
roth, he  belongs  to  the  Beat  Genera- 
tion or  the  California  Renaissance 
more  as  mentor  than  as  member, 
and  his  description  of  the  young 
experimenters  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  pieces  in  the  Grove  Press 
source  book: 

"Today  it  is  not  communities  or 
groups  who  seek  to  lead  'the  good 
life'  but  isolated  individuals.  The 
majority  of  these,  at  least  from  my 
observation,  are  young  men  who 
have  already  had  a  taste  of  profes- 
sional life,  who  have  already  been 
married  and  divorced,  who  have  al- 
ready served  in  the  armed  forces  and 
seen  a  bit  of  the  world.  .  .  .  Utterly 
disillusioned,  this  new  breed  of  ex- 
perimenter is  resolutely  turning  his 
back  on  all  that  he  once  held  true 
and  viable,  and  is  making  a  valiant 
effort  to  start  anew.  Starting  anew, 
for  .this  type,  means  leading  a 
vagrant's     life,     tackling     anything, 


Outstanding  New 
Orchestral  Records  by 


Rimsky-Korsakov:  Christmas  Eve;  Sadko;  Flight 
of  the  Bumble  Bee;  Dubinushka.  L'Orch.  de  la 
Suisse  Romande  -  Ansermet.  L L 1 733    $3.98 


Beethoven:  Piano  Concerto  No.  5  — "Emperor." 
Curzon  -  Vienna  Philharmonic  Orch.-  Knapperts- 
busch.  .   LL  1757     $3.98 


Schumann:  Symphony  No.  1— "Spring"  &  Sym- 
phony  No.    4.    London   Symphony   Orch.—  Krips. 
LL  1736     $3.98 


A  MIDSUMMER  NIGHT'S  DREAM 


Mendelssohn:  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream  - 
Incidental  Music.  Vyvyan,  Lowe,  Chorus-London 
Symphony  Orch.-  Maag.  LL  1707    $3.98 


® 


ONDOJV 


539  Weil  25  Si. 


22 


PERSONAL     &     OTHERWISE 


clinging  to  nothing,  reducing  one's 
needs  and  one's  desires,  and  even- 
tually—out of  a  wisdom  born  of 
desperation— leading  the  life  of  an 
artist.  Not,  however,  the  type  of 
artist  we  are  familiar  with.  An  artist, 
rather,  whose  sole  interest  is  in 
creating,  an  artist  who  is  indifferent 
to  reward,  fame,  success.  One,  in 
short,  who  is  reconciled  from  the 
outset  to  the  fact  that  the  better  he 
is  the  less  chance  he  has  of  being 
accepted  at  face  value.  These  young 
men,  usually  in  their  late  twenties  or 
early  thirties,  are  now  roaming 
about  in  our  midst  like  anonymous 
messengers  from  another  planet.  .  .  . 
When  the  smashup  comes,  as  now 
seems  inevitable,  they  are  more 
likely  to  survive  the  catastrophe  than 
the  rest  of  us.  At  least,  they  will 
know  how  to  get  along  without  cars, 
without  refrigerators,  without  vac- 
uum cleaners,  electric  razors,  and  all 
the  other  'indispensables'." 

Much  of  this  is  cliche,  to  be  sure, 
but  in  it  Miller  suggests  why  the 
New  San  Franciscans  refuse  to  stay 
put  as  a  definite  regional  growth— 
the  isolation  of  the  individuals  is 
more  important  than  the  collection 
of  their  artistic  talents.  This  in  a 
way  dignifies  them  more  than  being 
labeled  as  a  dubious  "renaissance" 
and  ties  them  to  other  writers,  dead 
and  alive,  who  made  California  their 
home  from  time  to  time:  Bret  Harte, 
Mark  Twain,  Ambrose  Beirce  almost 
a  hundred  years  ago;  Jack  London 
at  the  turn  of  the  century;  Jeffers 
of  Carmel,  Steinbeck  of  Salinas,  and 
Saroyan  of  Fresno  and  Broadway. 

.  .  .  Bruce  Bliven,  surveyor  of  the 
San  Francisco  scene  in  its  broader 
physical,  civic,  and  social  aspects 
(p.  38),  lives  in  Stanford,  California, 
now,  "in  the  middle  of  one  of  the 
most  extensive  areas  of  new  subur- 
ban tracts  in  the  whole  U.  S."  He  is 
working  on  a  book  in  the  field  of 
recent  world  history  and  also  teach- 
ing a  senior  seminar  in  mass  com- 
munications at  Stanford.  "I  live 
right  in  the  middle  of  the  9,000-acre 
campus,  surrounded  by  8,000  stu- 
dents (who  own  about  6,000  cars)" 
at  walking  distance  from  the  Center 
for  Advanced  Study  in  the  Beha- 
vioral Sciences.  This  too  is  Cali- 
fornia. 

Mr.  Bliven  was  born  in  Iowa  and 
spent  some  decades  in  New  York  as 


a  newspaperman  and  editor  of  the 
New.  Republic.  He  is  a  Stanford 
graduate  and  returned  to  live  in  the 
San  Francisco  area  about  five  years 
ago.  He  is  the  author  of  The  Men 
Who  Make  the  Future  and  the 
editor  of  Twentieth  Century  Lim- 
ited. 

.  .  .  The  least  "beat"  Californians 
alive  today  are  that  jumping  Repub- 
lican foursome— Know  land.  Knight, 
Nixon,  and  Christopher.  Vice  Presi- 
dent Nixon,  the  baby  of  the  lot, 
at  forty-four  is  almost  young  enough 
to  have  qualified  for  the  Beat 
Generation  if  he  had  got  off  to  a 
different  start;  he  is  also  the  na- 
tion's leading  prospect  for  the  next 
President.  He  has  been  in  the  na- 
tional eye  for  about  a  decade,  has 
bobbed  up  triumphant  from  a  num- 
ber of  political  pickles,  and  now  in 
what  James  Reston  calls  his  "post- 
Sputnik"  phase  is  playing  an  increas- 
ingh  important  part  in  national 
policy. 

But  besides  ambition  and  finesse, 
what  has  he  shown  as  Presidential 
qualifications?  William  S.  White, 
distinguished  Washington  corres- 
pondent of  the  New  York  Times, 
weighs  the  evidence  in  the  lead  art- 
icle this  month  (p.  25).  Mr.  White  is 
the  author  of  The  Taft  Story,  which 
won  the  Pulitzer  Prize,  and  of 
Citadel,  the  Story  of  the  U.  S. 
Senate.  He  wrote  this  article  in 
California,  where  he  has  been  serv- 
ing as  Regents  Professor  at  Berkeley. 
He  will  be  back  at  the  Capitol  this 
month. 

.  .  .  Two  very  young  writers  make 
their  first  appearance  in  a  national 
magazine  in  this  issue. 

Aubrey  Goodman,  creator  of 
"Waldo"  (p.  31),  is  twenty-two, 
Texas-born,  a  graduate  of  Phillips 
Academy  in  Andover  and  of  Yale. 
He  adapted  The  Great  Gatsby  for  a 
musical  play  scheduled  for  Broad- 
way this  year,  and  is  working  on  a 
novel,  The  Blue  of  the  Night.  At 
Yale  he  won  the  Undergraduate 
Playwriting  Contest  for  three  years 
in  a  row. 

Emilie  Bix  Buchwald  ("Song,"  p. 
61)  is  a  twenty-one-year-old  Barnard 
graduate  married  to  an  intern  and 
working  for  an  M.A.  at  Columbia. 
She  was  editor-in-chief  of  her  college 
literary  magazine,  Focus. 


.  .  .  Since  he  climbed  Mount  Everest, 
Tensing  lias  become  not  only  the 
most  famous  of  the  Sherpas,  but  also 
the  richest.  He  is  using  some  of  his 
new  wealth  to  send  his  sixteen-yeai- 
old  daughter  to  a  convent  school 
near  Darjceling. 

Recently  he  .asked  an  American 
friend— John  Hlavachek,  who  was 
United  Press  correspondent  in  India 
at  the  time  Everest  was  conquered— 
to  join  him  in  a  visit  to  the  young 
lady.  She  was  delighted  to  see  them; 
few  men,  and  practically  no  Amer- 
icans, ever  get  to  the  convent— an 
austere  and  remote  place  in  the  foot- 
hills of  the  Himalayas. 

As  they  were  leaving,  Mr.  Hlava- 
c  lick  asked  whether  he  might  send 
her  a  gift  from  the  outside  world. 

"Yes  indeed,"  she  said.  "A  very 
special  American  gift.  I  would  be 
ever  so  grateful  ii  you  would  send 
me  an  Elvis  Presley  record." 

Since  millions  of  other  adolescent 
girls,  from  Darjeeling  to  Des  Moines, 
seem  to  share  this  yearning,  Mr. 
Presley  obviously  is  a  Major  Cultural 
Inlluence.  The  reasons  for  his  pe- 
culiar charm— which  many  parents 
consider  both  horrifying  and  inex- 
plicable—are examined  on  page  45 
by  James  and  Annette  Baxter. 

Mrs.  Baxter  teaches  American 
Civilization  at  Barnard  College  and 
is  writing  a  dissertation  on  Henry 
Miller  (see  page  21  above)  for  a 
Ph.D.  at  Brown  University. 

Dr.  James  Baxter  took  medical 
training  at  Georgetown  University 
after  serving  aboard  a  minesweeper 
during  the  war.  He  worked  in  the 
Mideast  and  Europe  on  medical 
assignments  for  the  State  Depart- 
ment for  two  years  and  is  now  a  psy- 
chiatrist in  private  practice  in  New 
York  City  and  a  teacher  at  Cornell 
University  Medical  College. 

.  .  .  Admirers  of  Dylan  Thomas  will 
not  have  to  be  told  that  Lloyd 
Frankenberg's  "A  Refusal  to  Mourn, 
Etc."  (p.  47)  is  for  the  late  Welsh 
poet  and  that  its  title  is  taken  from 
one  of  his  best  loved  poems. 

Mr.  Frankenberg  has  written 
many  poems  since  his  first  volume, 
The  Red  Kite,  and  much  criticism, 
and  made  recordings  of  his  own  and 
others'  verse.  His  latest  book  pub- 
lication is  Invitation  to  Poetry:  A 
Round  of  Poems  from  John  Skelton 
to  Dylan  Thomas. 


PERSONAL     &     OTHERWISE 


.  .  .  The  Japanese  fishermen  who 
unknowingly  became  guinea  pigs  for 
the  physiological  effects  of  atomic 
fallout  are  the  heroes  of  Dr.  Ralph 
E.  Lapp's  "The  Voyage  of  the  Lucky 
Dragon"  (Part  II,  p.  48).  Their  case 
also  kicked"  up  an  international  con- 
troversy in  1954  which  has  not  yet 
ended.  Neither  have  the  nuclear 
explosions,  in  spite  of  world-wide 
agitation  against  their  continuance. 

Through  October  13  of  1957  (ac- 
cording to  a  roundup  by  John  W. 
Finney  in  the  New  York  Times),  the 
three  atomic  powers  had  set  off  more 
than  twice  as  many  atomic  explo- 
sions in  1957  as  in  any  preceding 
year.  The  total  number  has  grown 
since.  The  annual  rate  of  atomic 
testing  since  1951  has  been  as  fol- 
lows: 18,  11,  15,  4,  19,  16,  42.  The 
United  States  has  been  the  pace- 
setter, leading  always  with  its  bien- 
nial series  in  Nevada.  Of  the  42  set 
off  in  1957  (till  October),  24  were  by 
the  U.  S.,  6  by  England,  and  12  by 
Russia.  The  British  and  Russian 
tests  were  all  of  H-bombs. 

"Whether  the  accelerated  pace 
also  indicates  a  sharp  increase  in  the 
radiation  peril  to  the  world's  popu- 
lation cannot  be  answered  defi- 
nitely," Mr.  Finney  commented. 
"This  is  because  of  the  secrecy  sur- 
rounding the  circumstances  and  re- 
sults of  the  tests." 

In  this  informational  freeze-up 
about  fallout  danger,  Dr.  Lapp's  in- 
vestigation of  the  damage  to  the 
now-famous  Japanese  seamen  is 
unique.  Not  only  a  reporter  but  a 
nuclear  physicist  himself,  Dr.  Lapp 
worked  for  the  United  States  on  the 
Manhattan  Project  during  the  war 
and  headed  the  scientific  group  at 
the  Bikini  tests  of  1946.  He  was  the 
head  of  the  Nuclear  Physics  Branch 
of  the  Office  of  Naval  Research  in 
1949,  and  since  leaving  government 
service  has  been  director  of  Nuclear 
Science  Service  in  Washington.  His 
fifth  book,  The  Voyage  of  the  Lucky 
Dragon,  from  which  Harper's  three 
articles  are  adapted,  will  be  pub- 
lished in  February. 

.  .  .  Charles  B.  Seib  and  Alan  L. 
Otten,  who  present  "The  Case  of 
the  Furious  Children"  (p.  56),  are 
Washington  newspapermen.  Mr. 
Seib  is  Sunday  editor  of  the  Wash- 
ington Star  and  Mr.  Otten  covers 
Congress  for  the  Wall  Street  Journal. 


To  report  on  Dr.  Redl's  fascinating 
project  with  very  young  juvenile  de- 
linquents at  the  National  Institute 
of  Health,  they  spent  many  hours  of 
interviewing  and  of  studying  a  mass 
of  documents.  Their  previous  arti- 
cles in  Harper's  were  a  profile  of 
Senator  Fulbright  and  an  analysis  of 
the  Congressional  races  in  1956. 

.  .  .  Tomi  Ungerer,  designer  of  a 
truly  sensational  new  car  (p.  62),  is 
a  young  Frenchman  who  traveled  all 
over  Europe,  worked  with  the  Sahara 
Desert  Police  in  North  Africa,  and 
came  to  the  U.  S.  in  1956.  He  has 
published  two  children's  books  about 
a  family  of  talented  pigs  called  the 
Mellops  and  is  working  on  one 
about  a  boa  constrictor. 

...  An  English  counterpart  of 
American  self-analysis  about  educa- 
tion is  Martin  Green's  "The  Iron 
Corset  on  Britain's  Spirit"  (p.  64). 
But— as  compared  with  the  question- 
ing in  this  country  (see  "The  New 
Books,"  p.  84)— the  English  tone  is 
more  anguished,  the  scope  so  broad 
as  to  include  the  value  of  national 
symbols  and  class  structure. 

Mr.  Green  has  degrees  from  Cam- 
bridge University  and  the  Sorbonne, 
and  a  Ph.D.  from  the  University  of 
Michigan.  He  won  three  major 
Hopwood  prizes  in  1954  and  has  had 
essays  published  in  literary  maga- 
zines. He  spent  two  years  in  the 
RAF  and  is  now  teaching  at  Welles- 
ley  College  in  Massachusetts. 

.  .  .  Getting  married  is  said  to  be  as 
popular  as  ever;  but  "settling  down" 
is  no  longer  automatic.  Not  since 
the  days  of  the  covered  wagons  going 
West  have  so  many  American 
families  spent  so  large  a  part  of  their 
lives  literally  on  wheels.  Alvin  L. 
Schorr,  who  assesses  the  effects  of 
this  kind  of  social  mobility  (p.  71),  is. 
now  executive  director  of  Family 
Service  of  Northern  Virginia.  At  the 
time  of  the  Ohio  Pike  County  experi- 
ence which  was  the  "basis  of  his 
article,  he  was  on  the  spot  as  director 
for  the  Family  Service  Association. 

Mr.  Schorr,  a  graduate  of  City  Col- 
lege of  New  York,  trained  as  a  social 
worker  at  Washington  University, 
St.  Louis.  He  has  traveled  a  good 
deal,  working  for  public  and  volun- 
tary agencies;  and  his  wife  and  three 
children  came  along  with  him. 


23 


How  to  achieve  a  youthful 
body  and  vibrant  health — 
without  tiring  exercises 
in  just  ten  minutes  a  day! 

LOOK  BETTER, 
FEEL  BETTER 

By  Bess  M.  Mensendieck,  M.D. 

Foreword  by  Paul  B.  Magnuson,  M.D. 

Chairman   of  the   President's  Committee  on 
the  Health   Needs  of  the  Nation 

Gloria  S  w  a  n  s  o  n  ,  Fredric  March, 
Jascha  Heifitz,  Ingrid  Bergman  and 
many  other  notables  have  benefited 
from  and  enthusiastically  endorse  The 
World  Famous  Mensendieck  System 
of  Functional  Movements. 

Now,  you  too,  can  enjoy  the  advan- 
tages of  this  amazing,  natural  health 
method  available  for  the  first  time  in 
simple,  popular  form.  In  your  own 
home  without  equipment,  you  can 
banish  fatigue,  sparkle  with  new  vital- 
ity, and  add  new  grace  and  beauty  to 
your  body.  AND  you  can  accomplish 
all  this  and  much,  much  more  in  only 
10  minutes  a  day. 

Easy-to-follow    drawings    and 
instructions  show  you  how  .  .  . 

Step-by-step  functional  movements — 
scientifically  designed  to  revitalize  spe- 
cific muscles  and  joints— help  you  to 
end  backaches  . .  .  flatten  the  abdomen 
.  .  .  take  inches  off  hips  and  waist  .  .  . 
correct  aching  feet  .  .  .  banish  double 
chin  .  .  .  tune  up  chest  muscles  .  .  . 
relieve  fatigue  and  nervous  tension. 

Different  from  ordinary 

exercises  .  .  . 

The  Mensendieck  system  is  wholly 
different  from  ordinary  exercises.  The 
exertion  and  perspiration  required  in 
"exercising"  are  totally  absent.  Even 
those  afflicted  with  heart  ailments  can 
safely  benefit  from  the  -mild  graduated 
movements  included  in  LOOK  BET- 
TER, FEEL  BETTER.  Here  is  your 
guide  to  a  happy  life,  a  constant  sense 
of  well-being,  and  freedom,  from  the 
laxness  imposed  by  modern-day  living. 

— Ten  Days'   FREE  Examination  — 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

51  East  33rd  St.,  New  York  16 

Gentlemen :  Please  send  me  LOOK  BETTER, 
FEEL  BETTER,  for  ten  days'  free  examina- 
tion. Within  that  time  I  will  remit  $3.50 
plus  a  few  cents  mailing  charges,  or  return 
the   book. 


Name 
Address 
City     .  . . 


.Zone. 


.State. 


5102Q 


SAVE!    If  you  enclose  payment,  we  will  pay  mail 
ing  charges.    Same  return  privilege. 


THIS    FREE    WAY    OF    LIFE    STRENGTHENS    THE    AMERICAS 


A  new  concept  is  sweeping  the  Western  Hemisphere  .  .  .  Interdependence  between 
the  Americas!  Men  of  goodwill  are  eagerly  seeking  new  opportunities  to  bring  all 
Republics  into  a  Living  Circle  of  trade  and  communication.  Working  together 
they  are  establishing  a  sound  multi-crop  economy,  developing  wasteland  into  rich 
farms  to  supply  both  local  and  world  markets.  Scientific  farming,  modern  machin- 
ery, fertilizers,  power  and  transportation  are  aiding  the  workers  to  produce 
more  abundantly,  while  better  housing,  schools  and  hospitals  enrich  and  dignify 
their  lives. 

The  vital  crops  that  flow  to  Northern  markets  earn  dollars  for  manufactures: 
tractors,  refrigerators,  telephones,  railroad  equipment  .  .  .  hard  goods  that  flow 
south  to  increase  every  country's  potential.  These  enlarge  employment  and  local 
government  revenues— raise  the  whole  standard  of  living.  This  is  the  free  way  of 
life  in  action  .  .  .  the  combined  effort  of  friendly  peoples,  that  strengthens  the 
Americas  and  guards  against  communist  infiltration. 


United  Fruit  Company  has  been 
serving  the  Americas  usefully 
for  57  years— reclaiming 
wasteland,  stamping  out  disease, 
developing  human  skills, 
helping  by  research,  new 
techniques  and  transportation, 
to  increase  the  production  and 
sale  of  bananas,  sugar  and  other 
crops,  and  expediting 
communications. 


United  Fruit  Company 


IT 


IH 


iiarper 

magaJIzine 


NIXON: 


What  Kind  of  President  ? 


WILLIAM    S.    WHITE 

A   Pulitzer   prize-winning   Washington 

correspondent  reports  on  a  changing  man — 

and  on  the  reasons  why  he  may  prove 

stronger  and  more  decisive  than  Ike  .  .  . 

a  tougher  hoss  of  his  party  .  .  .  and  on  some 

issues  an  ally  of  the  liberal  Democrats. 

IT  IS  now  clear  that  Richard  M.  Nixon— 
who  perhaps  is  both  the  best  known  and  the 
least  known  Vice  President  in  our  history— has  a 
better  chance  than  anyone  else  to  reach  the 
White  House,  in  1960  or  earlier. 

At  this  writing,  shortly  after  President  Eisen- 
hower's stroke,  it  is  impossible  to  ignore  the 
possibility  that  Mr.  Nixon  may  be  called  upon 
to  take  over  some  measure  of  executive  responsi- 
bility before  the  next  election.  Even  if  that  does 
not  happen,  he  is  likely  to  receive  his  party's 
Presidential  nomination;  for  he  is  the  heir  pre- 
sumptive of  Eisenhower  Republicanism.  He  is, 
moreover,  perfectly  capable  on  his  record— the 
record  of  a  hard,  acute,  operationally  brilliant 
politician— of  benefiting  from  the  advantages  of 
his  present  position,  and  holding  to  a  minimum 
any  damage  that  might  threaten  that  position 


before  the  next  convention.  (The  1960  election 
is,  of  course,  a  different— and  at  this  date,  a  much 
more  speculative— question.) 

It  thus  becomes  of  some  importance  to  attempt 
to  determine  what  kind  of  President  Richard 
Nixon  might  make— not  so  much  what  kind  of 
human  being  he  is  or  was  or  might  become 
as  what  kind  of  Chief  Executive  he  might  rea- 
sonably be  expected  to  be  on  the  basis  of  such 
objective  data  as  are  at  hand. 

To  say  that  both  a  great  deal  and  very  little 
are  known  of  Richard  Nixon  is  to  state  the 
situation  as  it  is  generally  seen  in  Washington. 
The  massive  hostility  toward  him  among  the 
liberals— a  vast  proportion  of  Democratic  lib- 
erals and  a  good-sized  proportion  of  Republican 
liberals— is  an  old,  if  not  altogether  clear,  story 
now.  Not  so  well  known  is  the  not  inconsider- 
able, later  hostility  of  many  traditionalist-con- 
servatives, again  in  both  parties. 

Nothing  approaching  a  conclusive  analysis  of 
these  circumstances  is  any  part  of  this  cor- 
respondent's present  brief.  They  are  relevant 
here  simply  as  they  may  shed  some  oblique, 
fitful,  and  possibly  suggestive  light  upon  a  phe- 
nomenon: Here  is  a  Vice  President  who  has  been 
in  more  and  higher  headlines,  gone  more  places, 
had  more  part  (presumably)  in  making  high 
policy  and  more  success  (presumably)  in  influ- 
encing more  people  than  any  other  occupant  of 
that  office. 

But  here  is  also  a  man  "understood"  only  by 


26 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


people  who  really  know  nothing  about  him, 
that  is,  the  general  public;  a  man  who  is  an 
almost  total  enigma  to  most  of  the  fellow  pro- 
fessionals who  have  been  in  contact  with  him 
since  his  public  life  began  with  his  dispatch  to 
the  House  of  Representatives  from  California 
in  the  celebrated  "beefsteak  elections"  of   1946. 

As  a  Washington  reporter,  I  myself  have 
"known"  Mr.  Nixon  since  he  arrived  in  town. 
But  I  do  not,  in  fact,  know  him  in  anything 
like  the  way  I  know  fifty  other  Congressmen 
and  Senators.  It  would  not  be  an  absurdly  risky 
speculation  to  suggest  that  the  same  could  be 
said  to  a  great  extent  of  even  Nixon's  fellow 
Californian,  Senator  William  F.  Knowland.  The 
betting  is  at  least  even  that  Senator  Knowland 
does  not  know  Vice  President  Nixon  in  any 
sense  of  real  acquaintanceship,  in  spite  of  the 
chill  intimacy  of  a  kind  that  their  great  rivalry 
has  perforce  brought  about. 

This  is  not  to  say  that  the  unexplored  nature 
of  Mr.  Nixon  as  a  private  man  would  necessarily 
be  any  disqualification  to  his  serving  as  Presi- 
dent, but  it  does  indicate  the  special  difficulties 
of  trying  to  find  any  kind  of  certainty. 

THE     BOSS'S     DEPUTY 

THERE  is,  fortunately,  a  less  critical  short- 
age of  guides  as  to  what  kind  of  politician, 
in  the  visible  and  obvious  definition,  he  has  been, 
is,  and  might  be.  His  record  in  the  House, 
though  brief  and  obscure  except  for  his  connec- 
tion with  the  Alger  Hiss  affair,  would  put  him 
down  as  a  routine  orthodox-to-right-wing  Repub- 
lican, sufficiently  unsoft  upon  most  welfare  and 
allied  legislation  as  to  suit  the  most  management- 
minded  Republicans  of  California  or  any  other 
state.  (Parenthetically,  Nixon's  activities  in  the 
Hiss  investigation  seemed  to  me  and  to  many 
who  are  also  in  no  sense  apologists  for  excesses 
in  these  matters  to  be  quite  proper  and  within 
the  rules  of  the  game.) 

His  record  in  the  Senate  was  even  more  lack- 
ing in  distinction— it  could  hardly  have  been 
otherwise,  considering  the  short  space  of  time  he 
spent  as  a  member  upon  a  floor  over  which  he 
now  sits  as  presiding  officer,  for  the  most  part 
with  the  rather  tight-lipped,  over-tense,  and 
slightly  perspiring  manner  of  a  desperately 
earnest  man  determined  to  make  no  slightest 
mistake,  but  not  quite  at  home  and  not  likely 
to  be. 

It  is  mainly,  then,  to  his  record  as  Vice 
President  that  one  must  turn.  And  the  mere 
fact  that  he  has  got  a  Vice  Presidential  record  of 


any  consequence  is  a  tribute  both  to  his  own 
energetic  exertions  and  to  the  extraordinarily 
fortunate  political  climate  in  which  he  has 
moved. 

In  one  very  important  matter— the  care  and 
discipline  of  the  Republican  party— he  has  to  a 
considerable  extent  taken  upon  himself  the  tradi- 
tional functions  of  day-to-day  leadership  that 
have  in  the  past  been  attached  to  the  Presidency 
itself.  Eisenhower's  less  than  passionate  interest 
in  the  mere  details,  however  vital,  of  running  his 
party  has  been  so  persistent  and  so  obvious  as 
to  give  Nixon  an  almost  clear  field  in  speaking 
as  what  might  be  called  acting  co-leader  of  the 
Republican  party. 

And  here,  as  practically  everywhere  else, 
Nixon  has  been  lucky  almost  beyond  belief: 
he  has  been  able  to  give  party  directions,  on 
many  occasions  at  least,  with  substantially  the 
motive  power  they  would  have  had  if  they  had 
come  direct  from  the  White  House.  At  the  same 
time  he  has  not  been  required  to  take  ultimate 
responsibility  for  the  outcome. 

He  has  done  all  this,  by  the  way,  with  great 
skill  and  tact.  Publicly  and  privately  he  has  left 
the  impression  of  an  eager  and  loyal  Eisenhower 
subordinate,  speaking  humbly  for  the  Boss,  or, 
as  the  Modern  Republicans  would  undoubtedly 
put  it,  the  Captain  of  the  Team. 

Generally  it  has  been  in  this  role,  as  a  rather 
casually  appointed  Eisenhower  deputy-for-party- 
affairs,  that  Nixon  has  wholly  reversed  his  earlier 
reputation  as  an  orthodox  Republican.  He  is 
now  widely  considered  an  operating  spokesman 
in  Congress  for  the  "Modern"  Republicans— a 
leader  ready  to  warn  and  cajole  the  right-wingers 
against  isolationism,  for  example,  and  to  put  in 
timely  admonitions  for  such  projects  as  foreign 
aid. 

There  is  no  clear  public  record  to  show  on 
what  specific  issues  he  has  acted  as  deputy  leader 
of  the  party  or  in  just  what  way  he  has  acted— 
how  spiritedly,  effectively,  and  under  what  per- 
sonal intellectual  convictions.  But  perhaps  a 
single  example  of  his  performance— in  a  unique 
Republican  party  crisis— will  throw  some  light. 

In  the  sticky,  embarrassing  matter  of  the  late 
Senator  Joseph  McCarthy,  Nixon's  friends  and 
associates  have  long  presented  him  as  a  powerful, 
if  sub-surface,  agent  who  attempted  to  liquidate 
the  problem  for  Republicans  generally.  What 
Nixon  actually  did  about  it  is,  like  a  good  many 
other  things  in  his  career,  difficult  to  ascertain 
exactly.  His  curiously  sheltered  position— deeply 
in  the  Administration  but  not  necessarily  or 
always  of  it,  and  not  directly  accountable  either 


NIXON:     WHAT     KIND     OF     PRESIDENT? 


27 


to  it  or  for  its  decisions— has  meant  that  most  of 
his  actions  have  been  made  known  on  a  leaked 
or  ex-parte  basis. 

One  heard  that  he  had  often  "talked  to  Joe"; 
that  he  had  spoken  firm  words  to  the  unregen- 
erate  McCarthyites  like  Senator  William  E. 
Jenner  of  Indiana  who  stayed  with  McCarthy 
up  to  and  through  what  was,  in  soberest  truth, 
the  bitter  end.  My  own  information  is  that 
Nixon  did  assist  in  the  destruction  of  Mc- 
Carthy's power,  but  that  at  no  time  did  he  risk 
any  final  or  open  rupture  with  the  McCarthy- 
ites, and  that  his  assistance  was  of  incomparably 
less  value  than  the  work  of  those  who  actually 
brought  McCarthy  down— primarily  the  con- 
servative Senate  Southerners  under  the  spur  of 
the  liberals. 

Nixon's  view  of  McCarthy  revealed  the  oddly 
glacial  detachment  that  is,  in  practical  political 
terms,  unquestionably  toward  the  top  of  his 
list  of  assets.  There  was  never  anything  to  sug- 
gest that  he  felt  any  horror  over  what  McCarthy- 
ism  embodied  in  its  historical  implications— 
that  is,  a  long  and  violent  assault  upon  the 
heart  of  politics  as  practiced  by  the  English- 
speaking  peoples:  the  principle  of  fair  play. 

There  was,  however,  everything  to  suggest 
that  in  due  course— or  at  long  last— Nixon 
brought  a  cool  surgeon's  knife  into  a  clinic  of 
worried  Republicans,  who  had  become  gravely 
concerned  over  the  threshings  about  of  an  en- 
"  fevered  and  dangerous  patient  now  about  to 
infect  and  destroy  their  own  people. 

On  the  evidence  of  this  episode,  what  would 
Nixon  do  in  a  Nixon  Administration  if  another 
McCarthy  should  arise?  The  probabilities  are 
that  he  would  (a)  not  allow  such  a  rise,  within 
his  own  party  at  least;  or  (b)  if  he  could  not 
prevent  its  arising,  simply  move  in,  take  over, 
and  reshape  the  underlying  issue  so  that  it 
might  serve  first  himself  and  then  his  party. 

Unchecked  McCarthyism  would  be  highly 
unlikely  to  exist  in  a  Nixon  Administration, 
if  only  because  it  is  essentially  anarchic.  Nixon, 
make  no  mistake,  is  a  contained,  long-headed 
man,  who  would  take  great  care  to  see  that  his 
Administration  and  his  party  were  operated 
without  emotionalism.  Certainly  he  is  capable 
of  emotionalism  on  the  highest  and  most  pro- 
ductive scale,  as  he  proved  in  his  appeal  to  the 
country,  with  the  assistance  of  his  little  dog 
Checkers,  when  suddenly  revealed  financial  con- 
tributions to  his  career  seemed  about  to  cut 
off  that  career  in  mid-flight.  But  he  is  not  the 
sort  of  a  man  who  would  make  emotionalism  a 
consecutive  instrument  of  public  policy;  he  will 


use  it,  but  then  he  will  abandon  it.  The  essen- 
tial weakness  in  the  McCarthy  melodrama  was 
that  it  was  poorly  plotted;  you  cannot  forever 
sustain  any  unrelieved  emotion,  not  even  fear. 

BACK    AND     FORTH    ON 
CIVIL     RIGHTS 

TAKING  McCarthyism  as  an  example 
of  one  aspect  of  an  unending  contest, 
what  could  be  said  of  a  President  Nixon's  prob- 
able cast  of  mind  and  mode  of  action  in  civil 
liberties  in  general?  One  might  hazard  with 
some  conviction  that  his  position  would  not  be 
a  bad  one,  measured  by  results.  Yet  once  again, 
the  why  of  his  probable  liberal  stance— whether 
the  underlying  reason  would  be  instinctive  sym- 
pathy for  civil  liberties  or  simply  a  practical 
means  to  a  practical  political  end— is  open  to 
doubt. 

Nixon's  activities  in  the  Senate  Civil  Rights 
struggle  last  summer  answered  some  surface 
questions,  but  left  other,  deeper  ones  unre- 
solved. He  took  up  early,  and  abandoned  late 
and  only  by  necessity,  a  position  for  a  "hard" 
Civil  Rights  bill— a  bill  that  on  the  plain  facts 
of  the  existing  situation  certainly  could  not 
have  been  passed  and,  quite  possibly,  could 
never  have  been  enforced  short  of  a  national 
convulsion  that  few  rational  men  would  wish 
to  see. 

The  Vice  President  was  more  than  a  little 
vulnerable  to  the  accusation  that  he  wanted  an 
issue  more  than  a  bill.  When,  for  example,  the 
Senate  wrote  in  the  right  of  jury  trial  in  federal 
criminal  contempt  actions,  he  coolly  asserted 
that  this  was  nothing  less  than  "a  vote  against 
the  right  to  vote."  This  tersely,  enormously 
incorrect  statement  of  the  position  was  vintage 
Nixon;  the  act  of  a  man  coldly  impatient  with 
the  President's  refusal  to  defend  his  proposal  by 
such  extremism.  It  was  precisely  the  sort  of 
thing  that  Nixon  had  done  in  1954  in  his 
stonily  bitter  personal  campaign  to  return  con- 
trol of  Congress  to  the  Republicans. 

Nevertheless,  the  charge  that  Nixon  really 
wanted  no  Civil  Rights  bill  at  all  in  1957,  in 
the  hope  that  the  failure  of  a  Democratic  Con- 
gress in  that  regard  would  mean  a  Republican 
Congress  in  1958,  is  not  fully  supportable— no 
stronger  verdict  than  the  Scottish  "not  proved" 
can  lie  here.  One  or  two  talks  I  had  with  him 
fairly  well  convinced  me  that  he  was  maintain- 
ing a  surpassingly  "tough"  position  for  legiti- 
mate bargaining  purposes,  and  that  it  was  less 
subtle  Republicans,  particularly  in  the  House, 


28                                                ii  \  R  P  i ■:  r  s  M  A.G  vzi  N  E 

who   misread   the  signals  and   carried    intransi-  He   has  cast    aside   effectively   and    whatever 

gence  loo  i. ii  his   piotive   for  doing  so   certain   <>l    the  over- 

\i    .ill   events   he   was   read)    to   light    for   ;i  simplified  catch-phrases  with  wl)i<li  h<-  used  to 

"strong"  Civil  Rights  bill,  though  any  Buch  en  be  associated  in  Ins  old  days  as  .1  professional 

.iiiiniiii    would    lose   linn    the   support    oi    the  "anti-Communist."    He  is  represented  as  believ- 

South  certainly   and   to  .1   lessei    bui   important  ing    and,  more  importantly,  he  acts  .is  though 

sense  oi   ni.iiix   ol   ih.    oldei   .mil  orthodox   Re  li<    believed    thai    ii    is   nol    enough   simply    to 

publicans,    lie  thus  became  the  lull   inheritoi  make  certain   thai    nobod)   else  could   possibly 

oi    .in    already    foreshadowed    legacy    the    im-  be  seen  1  < >  hate  Communists  more, 

mensel)    important    gratitude   <>l    \ast    blocs   <>l  Such  oi  his  attitudes  and  activities  on  foreign 

Negro   voters,    in   tin    process   the   Republican  policy  within  the  National  Securit)  Council  as 

leadei  who  did  fai  1 ■  to  bring  "ii  something  are  known    assuming  thai  the)  have  been  accu- 

substantial    on    Civil     Rights,     Knowland     oi  ratel)     represented    in    the    journalism-by-leak 

California,  goi  fai   less  credii  Eoi  bis  pains.  with  which  he  is  surrounded    suggesi  an  adult, 

Bui   all  during   this  time  a   suspicion   about  ii    nol    necessarily    responsible,   approach.     I  1 1<- 

Nixon  that  had  been  vaguel)  held  before  grew  quotient   ol   responsibility  cannoi   be  accurately 

strongei  and  stronger:  thai  on  <i\il  liberties,  as  assayed  because  the  Vice  Presideni    again  there 

perhaps  <>n  othei  matters,  he  was  on  the  "light"  is  thai   persistent   theme  <>i   amazing  good   l«>i- 

side   im    inadequate   reasons;    thai    he  did    nol  tune    can,  "i  course,  i><'  boldly  decisive  verbally 

qualify   among    thai    group   oi    politicians,    Ise  in  the  NSC  and  still  nol  l>e  held  blameworthy 

publicans,  Democrats,  whatnot,  whose  inherited  il  a  course  he  proposes  turns  out  badly, 

memories  and  simple  instincts  require  them  10  All    in    all,    though,    what    evidence   can    be 

respeel  the  deep  convictions,  and  even  the  deep  gathered    suggests    that    a    Nixon     Presidency 

prejudices,  <>i  an)   large  mil ty,  and  who  are  would    be    a    "stronger,"    more    decisive    one 

unwilling   to  press   upon   such   a   minorit)    any  on    Eoreign    policy    than    Eisenhower's    though 

law   01   policy  thai   would  he  tiulv  intolerable,  "stronger"    does    not    necessarily    equate    with 

and  nol  merel)  repugnant,  to  them,  "better."    A    Nixon   Administration   would   nol 

ihis   sensitive,    automatii    understanding    <>l  onl)    find    the    President    his  own   Secretar)    ol 

whai    simpl)    isni    done    in    government    isn'i  State;  the  country  and  the  world  would  be  in 

done    no    mallei     il    one    chalk    has    ihe    \oles    lo  no   douhl    ol    who    was    running    the    show.     Il    is 

do  ii    is  the  one  subtle  distinguishing  quality  extremely   unlikely  that  matters  in  any  critical 

thai   inosi  oi  .dl  seis  oil   British  and    American  area  of  the  world  would  be  allowed  to  drift  as 

publii    men  I all  others,    11   tins  quality  is  the    Eisenhowei    Administration   allowed    them 

in    1. hi   absent    in    Nixon,   ii    would   lie  at    the  to  in  the  Middle  East,    The  publii   might   not 

tool   oi   every    prediction    thai    could    be   made  like  the  action  ii  got;  hut  it  would  get  action. 

as  lo  what   kind  ol    President    he  would   make,  on 

an)  issue  whatever,  with  the  possible  exception 
ol  foreign  polu  \ 

Foreign  policy,  to  be  sure,  can  b)   us  nature  i        OULD    Nixon  manage  to  accommodate 

be    pi. ed    and    (.lined    out    within    a    country  V.       social   and  sectional  animosities  as  well  as, 

otherwise  deepl)  divided  and  lacking  thai  con-  sa\,   Eisenhowei    has  done?    1>\    no  means.    Mis 

sensus  oi    publii    support    ol    01    toleration    for  techniques  of  campaigning  show  he  is  at  his  most 

us  leaders  thai   alone    can  provide  an  effective  effective  where  a  certain,  though  i>\   no  means 

ei\ilu\     in    the    conduct    ol    iis    d si  k     allaus.  total.    di\isi\cness    is    the    result,    il    not    actually 

(llan\     S       I  mini. m     and     Dean      \cheson     i.ui     a  the   aim.     One   can    picture   a    Nixon    binding    up 

powerful,     imaginative,     and     even     audacious  the  wounds  of  a  majority  of  a  nation,  but  not  the 

foreign     policy     without      important      positive  whole  oi  a  nation. 

(lucks  from  Congress  in  the  ver)    months  .w\(\  Could  Nixon  operate  in  a  bipartisan  wax   in 

years  when  a  mere  Truman  endorsement   ol  a  certain  areas  oi  polic)    foreign  affairs  mainly— as 

domestic  program  was  enough  10  give  ii  the  kiss  1  isenhower  has  done  and  as  even   I  ruman  did  10 

ol  death.)    \nd  it  is  in  foreign  affairs  that   die  .1  considerable  degree,  until  at  last  the  bitterness 

available  evidence  suggests  thai    Nixon,   in   the  ol  Korea  overcame  all?    rhe  answer  is  a  qualified 

common  phrase,  "has  grown."    Ilis  man)   nips  no,  necessarily  qualified  because  of  the  difficulties 

abroad  seem  10  have  been  unquestionabl)  useful  oi  definition,   li  the  cpiestion  is  merely  whether 

10  this  countr)    mainl)  he-cause  the)  have  been  Nixon   could   marshal   enough   bi-partisan   sup- 

useiui  10  Richard  M    Nixon.  port   for  his  foreign  policies,  the  repl)   is  that 


I  II  i:     HA  LANCE     SHEET 


NIXON:     WHAT     KIND     OF     PRESIDENT? 


29 


he  probably  could,  for  he  would  never  offer  a 
major  turn  in  policy,  first,  without  knowing  that 
the  great  bulk  of  the  Republicans  were  bound 
reliably  in  line,  and,  second,  without  putting 
into  that  policy  a  content  that  would  require— as 
distinguished  from  solicit— adequate  Democratic 
support. 

Outside  of  foreign  affairs,  he  could  certainly 
be  expected  to  stress  the  partisan.  One  cannot 
readily  think  of  any  other  candidate  who  would 
come  to  office  with  so  little  intrinsic  good  will 
from  the  other  party.  All  the  same,  in  the  in- 
tractable reality  of  politics  it  is  the  feared  Presi- 
dent, iar  more  than  the  liked  President,  who  at 
length  forces  the  greater  backing  from  among  his 
opposition;  and  Nixon  could  not  be  accounted 
ineffectual  on  this  score. 

Odd  as  it  sounds,  a  President  Nixon  would 
probably  evoke  more  practical  support  from  ad- 
vanced Democratic  liberals  than  from  the  con- 
servative Democrats,  because  the  liberal  Con- 
gressional Republicans  would  be,  at  least  in  the 
beginning,  more  favorably  disposed  toward  him 
than  the  orthodox  Republicans,  and  because  the 
conservative  Democrats  are  men  who  do  not 
forget  and  are  as  a  class  less  bound  to  consistent, 
impersonal  action  on  issues  than  are  their  liberal 
colleagues.  What  the  conservative  and  moderate 
Democrats  do  not  forget  is  not  really  what  Nixon 
has  said  in  the  past  about  their  party,  but  what 
he  did  on  Civil  Rights. 

Could  Nixon  operate  the  Republican  party 
as  a  partisan  instrument  more  effectively  than 
has  President  Eisenhower?  Certainly  more  tidily 
and  efficiently.  Probably  more  effectively,  with 
one  qualification:  His  Civil  Rights  position  un- 
doubtedly would,  with  him  as  the  nominee,  at 
least  momentarily  arrest  the  two-party  movement 
in  the  South.  It  might  in  the  long  run  forward 
that  movement,  however,  if  and  as  Negro  voting 
in  the  South  greatly  rises  in  volume. 

While  the  Vice  President  has  never  to  my 
knowledge  even  privately  criticized  Eisenhower 
as  a  party  leader,  he  is  a  member  of  a  funda- 
mentally different  breed  from  that  of  his  present 
chief— and  he  can  make  this  plain  without  a 
single  remotely  disloyal  word.  Any  party  under 
Nixon  would  know  who  was  its  master,  by  bland 
but  unmistakably  firm  techniques.  There  would 
be  a  great  deal  less  talk  about  the  Team  and  a 
great  deal  more  about  the  Captain. 

Nixon  would  welcome  no  intra-party  fight.  He 
would  offer  no  major  "Administration"  bill  with- 
out knowing  its  content  down  to  the  last  dis- 
tilled comma,  without  knowing  that  no  signifi- 
cant number  of  Republicans  would  or  could  de- 


Hounds  Across  the  Sea 


M 


E  M  B  E  R  S  of  the  Holderness  Hunt  to- 
night recovered  two  foxhounds  which 
went  down  a  drain  at  Catfoss  aerodrome 
in  the  East  Riding  on  Tuesday.  They 
also  found  the  fox,  but  it  got  away. 

The  hounds  disappeared  during  a 
cubbing  meet,  and  it  was  not  until  late 
tonight  that  a  policeman's  dog  located 
them  in  the  drain,  half  a  mile  from 
where  they  were  last  seen.  After  they 
had  been  run  to  earth  the  rescuers  bat- 
tered a  hole  through  a  runway,  and 
found  hounds  and  fox  standing  in  four 
inches  of  water  in  the  narrow  drain. 
The  hounds  were  wedged  and  could  not 
turn;  the  fox,  smaller  and  more  active, 
had  turned  round  and  stood  at  a  safe 
distance  from  them. 

—London  Times,  September  27,  1957. 


feet,  and  without  an  implacable  intention  to 
put  it  through  unaltered.  If  he  did  get  into  an 
intra-party  fight,  he  would  be  a  tough  man  in- 
deed. Nixon,  in  common  with  many  of  the 
younger  Republicans,  is  soft  in  speech  (except 
of  course  against  Democrats)  but  hard  in  action. 
The  Old  Guard  Republicans,  who  do  not  as  a 
class  care  very  much  for  him,  will  find  that  in 
Nixon  they  have  in  their  time  much  the  sort  of 
antagonist  that  the  Taft  Republicans  of  the 
past  had  in  Dewey  of  New  York— a  powerful, 
single-minded  antagonist  who  hits  to  hurt,  plays 
to  win,  and,  in  crisis,  believes  that  nice  guys 
finish  last. 

Nixon  has  far  greater  skill  in  day-to-day  po- 
litical operating  than  Eisenhower— and  indeed 
than  Truman,  who  was  in  fact  an  incomparably 
better  President  than  politician,  all  the  contrary 
folklore  notwithstanding.  Certain  things  would 
be  very  different  in  a  Nixon  Administration  than 
in  either  of  the  two  that  went  before.  Trouble- 
some "cronies"  would  not  bother  him  long,  as 
they  did  the  far  more  kindly  and  perhaps  over- 
loyal  Truman.  Department  heads  would  not 
twice  be  at  cross  purposes  in  public,  as  on  occa- 
sion they  have  been— and  without  known  rebuke 
—under  the  somewhat  amiably  withdrawn  Presi- 
dent Eisenhower. 

But  the  essential  philosophy  of  a  Nixon  Ad- 
ministration would  be  as  difficult  to  find  and 
fix,  in  any  permanent  frame  of  reference,  as  the 


30 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


essential  philosophy  of  Politician  Nixon  so  far. 
To  deduce  from  this  that  he  is  not  "a  man  of 
principle"  would  be  both  too  harsh  and  too  sim- 
ple. One  of  the  Vice  President's  closest  associates 
once  told  me  that  his  whole  success  lay  in  two 
things— sensing  "the"  issue  of  the  hour  and  ex- 
ploiting it  by  "perfect  timing." 

Rephrased,  this  means  that  Nixon  draws  his 
notions,  his  policies,  and  even  his  philosophy 
from  "the  people"— or  what  he  considers  to  be 
the  operative  majority  of  them  at  a  given  time. 
He  is,  that  is  to  say,  the  perfect  model  of  the 
political  leader  who  finds  both  inspiration  and 
ultimate  mandate  from  the  public.  This  is  no 
more  and  no  less  than  the  logically  inevitable 
requirement  of  a  current— and  possibly  dominant 
—view  that  the  proper  functioning  of  a  democ- 
racy requires  little  more  than  a  count  of  noses 
to  determine  what  should  be  done. 


THE     NEW     BREED 

PU  T  in  another  way,  Nixon  is  the  quintes- 
sence of  the  modern  spirit  of  revolt  from 
the  aristocratic  principle  of  the  leader.  In  this 
sense  he  differs  sharply  from  Franklin  Roosevelt. 
Roosevelt  served  the  common  man— by  boldly 
directing  that  man's  affairs  and,  not  to  put  too 
fine  a  point  upon  it,  by  telling  him  what  to 
think.  Nixon  appeals  to  the  common  man— by 
asking  him  what  he  thinks  or,  at  most,  by  sug- 
gesting to  him  that  perhaps  he  thinks  so  and  so. 
Harry  Truman,  archetype  of  small  d  democrat 
though  he  is,  was,  oddly  enough,  full  of  the 
aristocratic  principle.  In  every  moment  of  ulti- 
mate truth  or  ultimate  peril,  he  acted  for  the 
people,  not  by  their  leave.  And,  to  tell  the  truth, 
when  the  issue  was  big  enough  and  critical 
enough,  he  didn't  much  give  a  damn,  as  they  say 
in  Missouri,  whether  they  liked  it  or  not.  He 
would  save  them,  whether  or  not  they  wanted  to 
be  saved;  but  he  never  applied  to  them  for  his 
instructions. 

Perhaps  it  is  this  quality  of  oneness  with  what 
ordinary  people  are  thinking  or  are  about  to 
think  that  has  made  Nixon  one  of  the  most  spec- 
tacularly reliable  private  oracles  in  the  business 
of  predicting  political  results.  To  my  well- 
remembered  knowledge,  he  got,  as  a  then  young 
Congressman  out  doing  minor  chores  for  the 
Republican  Congressional  Campaign  Committee, 
more  than  an  intimation  of  the  oncoming  un- 
seen Republican  debacle  of  1948  as  early  as 
September  of  that  year.  There  is  a  bleak  realism 
about  what  he  tells  fellow  Republicans  in  private 
on  any  existing  situation  involving  public  opin- 


ion or  public  taste.  His  antennae  are  remark- 
ably acute— matchlessly  acute  among  the  na- 
lional  politicians  known  to  this  correspondent. 

How  he  might  handle  almost  any  issue  as 
President— from  management  of  the  economy  to 
the  proper  place  for  the  Pentagon  in  the  scheme 
of  things— would  almost  certainly  be  strongly 
colored  by  this  foreknowledge. 

This  not  only  makes  it  bootless  to  speculate 
whether  he  would  be  "liberal"  or  "conservative"; 
it  puts  it  out  of  the  question  to  attempt  to 
appraise  what  he  would  be  like  as  an  adminis- 
trative man.  For  top  administration  necessarily 
implies  a  fairly  free  and  relaxed  association  with 
colleagues,  a  capacity  wisely  to  delegate  and 
sharply  to  supervise  without  appearing  to  do  so. 

Nixon's  essentially  intuitive  approach  would 
seem  difficult  to  transfer  or  to  delegate;  and  not 
enough  is  known  of  his  associations  by  choice— 
as  distinguished  from  routine  necessity— to  give 
any  very  reliable  guide  as  to  his  private  taste  in 
men.  His  various  Capitol  offices  operate,  upon 
casual  observation,  with  what  is  at  least  out- 
wardly a  brisk  efficiency  not  quite  typical  of  those 
precincts.  But  Nixon  himself  is  a  man  who,  in 
the  true  sense,  is  often  by  himself  apart. 

Talking  to  him,  one  has  the  impression  of 
speaking  to  an  almost  incredibly  objective  per- 
son. His  mind  examines  statements,  hypotheses, 
implications,  with  a  chill,  uninvolved  clarity  of 
purpose  and  functioning.  His  sense  of  percep- 
tion is  sharp  and  quick;  what  feeling  may  lie 
within  him  is  unguessable.  It  is  a  close  question 
whether  he  would  rather  be  liked  by  people  in 
the  mass  or  approved  by  people  in  the  mass.  In 
my  opinion  he  would  much  rather  be  approved. 

There  have  been  several  changes  in  him  since 
he  first  came  to  Washington— nearly  all,  on  the 
discernible  evidence,  to  the  good.  He  is  now 
mature;  there  is  a  certain  tough  resignation  in 
him.  Good  President  or  bad  President  as  he 
might  be,  he  would  hardly  be  a  weak  one,  and 
it  is  not  easy  to  imagine  him  being  an  indecisive 
one.  Never  an  outgoing  personality,  he  has  be- 
come even  more  withdrawn.  His  sense  of  humor 
is  thin  and  a  bit  brittle,  with  a  quiet  but  distinct 
touch  of  mordant.  He  is  immensely  controlled, 
and  there  is  a  suggestion  that  this  control  in- 
volves sustained  effort.  There  is  not  a  chemical 
trace  of  gustiness  in  him;  and  it  is  impossible 
to  down  the  impression  that  he  rarely  has  a 
relaxed  moment.  He  is  poised,  able,  seemingly 
confident,  compact  and  well  buttoned  up  in  dress 
and  address,  habitually  earnest,  and  very  remote. 
Most  of  all,  perhaps,  he  is  mindful  of  the  phrase: 
He  travels  fastest  who  travels  alone. 


A  Story  by  AUBREY  GOODMAN 

Drawings  by  Stanley  Wyatt 


MY  FATHER  took  me  to  lunch  at  the 
Yale  Club  and  gave  me  some  advice 
about  the  next  four  years,  telling  all  ot  the 
Waldo  stories  again  and  advising  me  not  to  listen 
to  any  advice  from  my  older  brother  who  had 
graduated,  just  barely,  from  Yale  the  previous 
spring.  After  lunch  I  went  over  to  Brooks  and 
bought  some  Argyle  socks  and  some  neckties,  and 
then,  it  was  such  a  nice  September  day  and  New 
York  looked  so  terrific  and  I  felt  so  good,  I 
walked  all  the  way  up  Fifth  Avenue  to  Eightieth 
Street.  It  was  nearly  four  o'clock  when  I  got  up 
to  the  apartment  and  Johnnie  was  sitting  on  my 
bed,  smoking  a  cigarette. 

"Hey,"  he  said.  "Eve  been  waiting  for  you." 

"I  had  to  pick  up  some  stuff,"  I  said,  dumping 
my  packages  on  the  desk. 

"Excited  about  tomorrow?"  Johnnie  asked. 

"Sure." 

"How  was  lunch?  I  suppose  Dad  told  you  not 
to  pay  any  attention  to  anything  I  might  have 
to  say." 

I  nodded  and  started  to  finish  my  packing.  He 
put  a  pillow  under  his  head  and  went  on  talking 
to  the  ceiling. 

"Well,  just  don't  take  everything  Dad  says  too 
literally.  You  don't  think  he  thinks  Ed  try  to 
steer  you  wrong,  do  you?" 

"No,"  I  replied,  trying  to  find  my  silver  tie-tac 
on  the  tray  on  top  of  my  dresser. 

"You  know,  I  was  there.  I  just  graduated  this 
year  from  Yale  and  I  know  more  about  it  than 
Dad.  What  did  he  do?  Tell  you  those  old  worn- 
out  stories  about  Waldo?" 


I  nodded. 

All  my  life  I  had  heard  people,  not  just  my 
father,  but  other  men  who  had  been  at  Yale  with 
him  back  in  the  'twenties,  talk  about  Waldo. 
And  from  all  of  the  stories  I  had  evolved  a  pretty 
clear,  but  certainly  romantic,  picture  of  Waldo. 

Evidently,  Waldo  had  been  a  hero  of  Yale. 
Not  just  the  hero  of  the  athletes  or  the  intel- 
lectuals or  the  fraternity  and  Senior  Society  men; 
he  was  everyone's  hero.  He  seemed  to  have  some 
hard  mysterious  glow  inside  him,  some  vitality, 
that  attracted  people  to  him.  They  watched  him 
when  he  walked  down  the  street,  they  crowded 
around  him  at  parties,  professors  were  always 
pleased  to  have  him  in  their  classes,  and  girls 
from  Smith  and  Vassar  actually  begged  to  be 
introduced  to  him. 

According  to  those  who  had  known  him, 
Waldo  possessed  all  of  those  golden  qualities 
usually  attributed  to  Dink  Stover  and  the 
Byronic  young  men  created  by  Scott  Fitzgerald. 
Waldo  was  tall,  had  very  green  eyes  and  close-cut 
yellow  hair,  and  all  of  his  clothes  came  from 
Brooks.  He  drove  a  fast  Mercedes  Runabout, 
but  he  never  ran  into  anyone  and  never  got  a 
ticket. 

The  really  curious  thing  about  him  was  that 
no  one  really  knew  him  well;  people  could  never 
get  close  enough  to  him  to  know  him  completely. 
Waldo  was  just  there;  he  just  was.  No  one  knew 
where  he  lived.  He  was  seen  at  the  big  dances 
at  the  Plaza  during  Christmas  vacation,  he 
turned  up  in  Bermuda  every  spring,  and  he  went 
to  Europe  during  the  summer.    He  drank  beer 


32 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


for  breakfast  and  a  split  ol  champagne  with  his 

lunch  every  day.  He  liked  to  play  mild  practical 
jokes:   he  often  put  live  goldfish   in   toilets. 

At  one  Harvard-Yale  game  he  and  his  date 
tode  to  the  game  on  a  beautiful  white  horse.  His 
junior  year,  he  brought  Joan  Crawford  to  the 
Prom,  and  they  danced  the  Charleston  for  an 
hour  without  stopping.  Another  time  he  was 
involved  in  a  rather  elaborate  stunt:  Waldo  let 
his  feet  he  strapped  to  the  wings  ol  an  airplane 
which  took  oil  and  Hew  under  the  Brooklyn 
Bridge,  with  Waldo  standing  up.  waving  happily 
to  his  li  iends  standing  up  on  the  bridge. 

Waldo  enjoyed  himself.  He  was  exciting  and 
casual  and  lull  of  Inn,  and  people  liked  him. 
Alter  graduation  no  one  ever  saw  him  again,  but 
there  was  a  rumor  that  lie  had  been  killed  in  the 
second  world  war. 

"You  won't  find  anyone  like  Waldo  up  at  Yale 
today.''  m\  lather  always  said.  "Waldo  could 
only  have  existed  hack  in  the  'twenties.  You 
boys  now— you'it1  scared  and  worried  and  grim, 
because  you  have  to  he.  But  nobody  blames 
you.  That's  just  the  way  things  are.  People  don't 
know  how  to  enjoy  themselves  now,  and  even  if 
the)  did — they  couldn't." 

I  CLOSED  one  of  the  suitcases  and  put  it 
out  in  the  hall. 

"You're  taking  too  much  with  you,"  Johnnie 
said  when  I  (ante  hack  into  the  room.  He  was 
lying  on  his  stomach  and  staring  at  me.  "Don't 
take  too  much  with  you,  that's  my  motto.  Do 
you  want  my  cashmere  sweaters?  Guess  I  won't 
need  them  out  on  the  Bounding  Main." 

Johnnie  was  going  into  the  Navy  the  next 
month.  "Thanks  a  lot,"  1  said,  sitting  down  on  a 
c  hah  next  to  the  bed. 

Johnnie  sat  up  suddenly,  ciossccl  his  legs, 
squinted  his  eyes  at  me  and  took  a  deep  breath. 
Whenever  somebody  does  that,  you  know  they're 
going  to  do  a  lot  of  talking.  I  sat  hack  in  the 
chair  and   relaxed. 

"You  don't  have  to  listen  to  me,  Tony.  No- 
body can  really  give  anyone  else  any  advice,  and 
God  knows  I  never  listened  to  anybody,  but  you 
are  my  brother  and  there  are  a  couple  ol  things." 

"Okay,"   I   said.    "Shoot." 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  First  thing,  when  you 
get  up  there,  don't  think  for  a  moment  that 
coming  from  Andover  makes  you  special.  Every- 
body is  always  yakking  about  the  Andover  crowd 
at  Yale,  but  there's  no  such  thing.  At  least,  not 
any  more.  It's  different  now,  not  like  it  was 
when  Dad  was  there." 

"1  know." 


"The  important  thing,"  he  continued,  "is  to 
watch  the  people  around  you.  So  many  things 
start  happening  to  people  during  theii  college 
years.  So  far  you've  been  pretty  damned  shel- 
tered." 

I  stalled  to  protest,  but  he  cut  me  off  with  a 
wave  of  his  hand. 

"I  know  that  annoys  you,  but  it's  true.  You'll 
see  it  later.  It's  just  that  once  you  hit  college  you 
start  seeing  things  go  wrong  for  people.  Just  look 
at  most  ol  the  guys  I've  known,  and  it  seems  that 
nearly  all  of  them  went  around  trying  to  kill 
themselves.  I  knew  this  one  guy  at  Harvard— a 
real  great  guy,  always  hacking  around  and  cut- 
ting up,  making  jokes,  making  people  laugh.  He 
seemed  perfectly  happy  to  me.  Then  one  night 
he  took  a  taxi  to  Logan  Airport  and  walked  into 
the'  propellers  ol  a  plane.  Another  friend  of 
mine  chank  so  much  he  went  temporarily  blind. 
And  guys  got  into  all  kinds  of  trouble  with  girls 
—marrying  them  because  they  were  rich  or  preg- 
nant or  looked  like  the  guys'  mothers.  I  know 
two  guys  who  got  married,  had  two  kids  each, 
and  then  got  divorces.  They're  only  twenty-one 
years  old  now!" 

I   shook   my   head. 

"Then  there  are  the  guys  who  want  to  he 
scholars  or  archaeologists  who  go  back  home  and 
work  for  theii  dads  or  go  on  to  law  school 
because  they  let  other  people  influence  them  too 
much.  Too  many  people  give  up  what  they 
really  want  to  do  with  their  lives.  They  toss 
theii   dreams  away." 

Johnnie  looked  sort  of  sad  lor  a  moment,  star- 
ing past  me,  Then  he  sat  up  straight  and  went 
on. 

"And  then  there  are  all  of  the  guys  who  are 
left  out  of  things  because  they  went  to  high 
schools  instead  of  prepping.  There's  quite  a  bit 
of  hypocrisy  and  snobbery  you  get  mixed  up  in 
without  even  realizing  it.  Hut  it's  all  confused 
and  mixed  up,  because  it's  great  too.  Most  of 
I  he  classes  arc  damned  terrific  il  you  listen  and 
lead  everything  and  the  weekends  are  gorgeous 
fun  and  the  girls  are  pretty  .  .  .  it's  good  and 
had,  all  mixed  up.  I  loved  it  when  1  was  there, 
but  I  don't  think  1  knew  what  I  was  really  doing. 
You  know,  in  my  fraternity  there  was  one  guy 
who  didn't  get  elected  because  he  turned  up  for 
rushing  one  night  wearing  machine-made  Argyle 
soc  ks!  Does  that  make  any  sense?" 

"Not  to  me,"   I   replied. 

"Hut  it  did  make  sense  then!  At  least,  it 
seemed  to.  It's  all  confusing.  Everybody  I  knew 
ended  up  by  making  some  huge  compromise. 
Hut  you  can't  help  it.     The  main  thing  is  that 


WALDO 


there  isn't  any  romance  in  it  any  more.  College 
should  be  a  great  big  romance.  Where  did  all 
of  the  romance  go?   Where  is  it?" 

He  sighed. 

"Dad's  right,"  he  said.  "Don't  listen  to  me.  Go 
to  Yale  and  study  hard  during  the  week  and  go 
to  Smith  on  the  weekends  and  go  out  for  the 
right  clubs  and  buy  your  clothes  at  J.  Press  and 
try  to  make  Skull  and  Bones  and  marry  some 
girl  from  Darien  who  drives  a  station  wagon 
and  goes  to  Bermuda.  Don't  get  off  the  track.  If 
you  can  help  it.  I'm  in  no  position  to  tell  any- 
body else  what  to  do.  It's  just  that  I  thought  it 
was  going  to  be  like  Waldo,  and  it  wasn't,  and 
I  was  disappointed.  Just  try  not  to  build  things 
up  too  much." 

"I  won't,"  I  said. 

"Because  if  you  go  along  expecting  too  much 
and  being  disappointed  all  the  time,  next  you 
find  yourself  expecting  nothing  out  of  anything, 
just  to  avoid  being  disappointed,  and  when  that 
happens  you  might  as  well  be  dead.  Then  you 
...  oh  shut  me  up.  What  are  you  doing  to- 
night?" 

I  didn't  have  any  plans. 

"Listen,  Tony,  Mother  and  Dad  are  going  to 
be  out  anyway,  so  why  don't  you  come  to  a  party 
with  me.  Over  at  Lee's.  Come  on.  He's  collected 
quite  a  menagerie  of  friends,  and  it'll  be  different 
for  you.   Something  new." 

"Okay,"  I  said. 

Johnnie  got  up  and  straightened  the  covers 
on  my  bed. 

"Whatever  happened  to  that  girl  Lee  was 
always  with?"  I  asked. 

"Constance?    From  San  Francisco?" 

"She  was  beautiful,"  I  said.  I  remembered  that 
she  had  a  beautiful  face  with  bright  blue  eyes 
and  clean-looking,  soft  brown  hair  that  she  wore 
down  to  her  shoulders.  Lee  had  brought  her 
up  to  dinner  a  couple  of  times,  and  she  had 
charmed  me  off  the  wall.  She  had  a  way  of 
looking  right  into  your  eyes  when  she  talked  to 
you. 

"Well,  after  going  with  Lee  for  four  years,  she 
married  some  guy  from  Westport,"  Johnnie  said. 
He  threw  his  arms  up  in  the  air  and  said,  "See 
what  I  mean?" 

"Guess  so,"  I  answered,  and  Johnnie  went  into 
his  own  room. 

LE  E  was  Johnnie's  best  friend.  They  had 
been  in  the  same  class  at  Andover  and  Yale, 
and  Lee  used  to  come  home  with  him  for  week- 
ends and  Thanksgiving.  Lee  was  from  Okla- 
homa,  but   he   came   down   to   New   York   after 


Yale  and  got  a  job  with  an  advertising  agency. 
He  wanted  to  be  a  writer  and  he  had  terrific 
ideas,  but  I  never  saw  anything  he  wrote. 
Mother  and  Dad  liked  him  very  much.  They 
thought  he  was  a  good  influence  on  Johnnie.  I 
was  never  so  sure  about  that,  but  I  had  to  admit 
that  Lee  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  people 
I'd  ever  met. 

His  apartment  was  right  around  the  corner 
from  us,  between  Madison  and  Park.  He  had 
hundreds  of  books  in  cases  and  on  the  mantel 
and  stacked  on  tables,  two  portable  television 
sets,  a  portable  air-conditioner,  a  closet  filled 
with  liquor,  some  watercolors  of  New  York  and 
drawings  of  Yale  and  Andover  on  the  walls,  a 
silver  top  hat  he'd  worn  to  a  costume  ball  at  the 
Plaza,  a  wooden  shoe  from  Holland,  a  sun  lamp, 
a  bar  bell,  half  a  dozen  of  those  large  ashtrays 
from  the  Stork  Club,  a  cigarette  box  that  played 
"Boola  Boola,"  a  hi-fi  set  and  a  tremendous  col- 
lection of  records,  mostly  old  Bing  Crosby  and 
Gene  Austin  and  Helen  Kane  and  Paul  White- 
man  and  Helen  Morgan.  He  had  a  small  garden 
out  in  back  with  a  large  stone  turtle. 

I  liked  Lee  and  enjoyed  being  with  him,  but  I 
never  particularly  cared  for  the  people  he  had 
around  him.  He  never  seemed  to  be  alone,  and 
everybody  around  him  seemed  to  be  distin- 
guished in  some  odd  way.  There  was  a  girl 
who'd  been  on  a  safari  in  Africa  once,  a  guy 
who'd  been  stabbed  in  the  face  by  a  countess 
with  a  salad  fork,  a  man  who'd  been  hit  on  the 
head  by  a  telephone  switchboard  while  he  was 
walking  down  Wall  Street,  a  girl  from  Spain 
who  was  writing  a  novel  in  French,  a  male 
prostitute,  a  female  lawyer,  sons  and  daughters 
of  famous  actors  and  actresses  and  writers.  And 
then,  mixed  in  with  these  people,  he  had  the 
friends  he'd  known  in  schools.  I  liked  all  of  the 
last  group  very  much,  although  they  were  older 
than  I  was. 

I  was  glad  to  be  going  to  Lee's  party,  because 
no  one  would  be  at  home  and  I  didn't  feel  like 
knocking  around  the  apartment  by  myself,  but  I 
wasn't  too  excited.  I  honestly  don't  like  parties 
too  much.  I  love  to  go  to  dances,  but  I  don't 
enjoy  gatherings  where  people  just  stand  around 
and  talk  and  toss  down  the  liquor.  There  are 
two  good  reasons  for  my  feeling  this  way.  I'm 
very  shy  and  I  don't  like  to  drink.  It's  funny, 
but  most  people  get  the  impression  that  I'm  a 
deep  thinker  because  I  don't  talk  very  much. 
However,  it  doesn't  necessarily  follow  that  a  per- 
son is  really  intelligent  because  he  keeps  quiet 
most  of  the  time.  Sometimes  it's  because  he's  not 
very  bright  and  doesn't  have  anything  at  all  to 


34 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


say.  Willi  me,  I  like  to  think  it's  jusl  because 
I'm  sin. 

About  the  chinking,  I  do  drink  beer  some- 
times. You  can't  very  well  si t  at  Ryan's  or  Con- 
don's and  listen  to  jazz  with  a  prettv  girl  and 
drink  Cokes,  but  I  don't  chink  hard  liquor, 
be<  ause  1  gel  si(  k  and  vomit. 

So,  as  I  have  a  difficult  time  talking  to 
strangers,  we  usually  just  don't  connect,  and  as 
I  don't  enjoy  drinking  martinis,  I'm  not  too 
cra/y  about  cocktail  parties.  1  usually  end  up 
standing  by  myself  in  a  corner,  watching  the 
people,  eavesdropping  on  other  people's  conver- 
sations, and  reading  the  titles  ol  the  books  on  the 
shelves.  Another  thing  I  don't  like  about  most 
parties  in  New  York  is  that  everyone  tries  too 
hard  to  give  the  appearance  that  they  are  having 
a  wonderful  time.  Sometimes  I'm  sine  that  the 
people  really  are  having  a  good  time,  but  some- 
times I  wonder  il  most  of  them  leel  the  same 
way  I  do  but  won't  show  it. 

We  went  over  to  Lee's  about  nine-thirty.  The 
apartment  was  full  of  people,  and  they  were  all 
trying  to  outdo  each  other— laughing  very  loud, 
holding  their  drinks  high  in  the  air. 

"I  wonder  where  Lee  is,"  I  said  to  Johnnie 
after  we'd  walked  in. 

"Talk  to  people,"  he  yelled  into  my  ear. 

Then  he  walked  away  and  left  me.  1  didn't 
see  Lee.  The  party  looked  like  several  others 
I'd  seen  around  New  York.  It  wasn't  a  social 
party  or  a  Village  party;  it  was  a  mixed-up  party. 
The  people  were  all  different  ages,  and  i  don't 
think  many  of  them  had  too  much  in  common. 
I  went  into  the  kitchen  and  poured  myself  a  glass 
of  ginger  ale  and  prepared  to  go  in  and  read  the 
book  titles.  As  I  was  trying  to  edge  my  wa\  away 
from  the  sink,  someone  shoved  me.  1  looked 
around  and  saw  a  young  man  with  a  pained 
expression  on  his  face  and  one  arm  up  in  the  air. 

"Is  there  any  butter  over  here?"  he  demanded. 

"Stick  it  under  the  faucet,  Bobby,"  said  a 
small  girl  who  was  hanging  onto  his  other  arm. 
"Don't  make  a  fuss." 

"A  fuss!"  Bobby  exclaimed,  turning  on  the 
faucet  full  force  and  putting  his  hand  under  it. 
"Who  was  that  guy?   I'll  murder  him." 

"You'll  do  nothing,"  the  girl  said,  looking  into 
.her  drink  as  if  she  had  dropped  something  into 
the  glass  and  was  trying  to  find  it.  "You  brushed 
up  against  the  man's  cigarette.  He  didn't  mean 
to  burn  your  hand." 

"Shut  up,"  Bobby  said,  crossly. 

"Wear  gloves,"  the  girl  said,  giggling. 

"What  am  I  going  to  do?  And  I'm  supposed  to 
make  that  film  tomorrow." 


"Are  you  an  ac  tor?"  I  asked. 

He  looked  at  me  and  said  smoothly,  "Yes,  I 
am." 

"Hah!"  the  girl  snorted. 

"Don't  pay  am  attention  to  her,"  lie  told  me. 
"She's  an  idiot.  I  am  an  actor.  Are  you  in  the 
theater?" 

"Oh  no,"  I  said.  "But  I'm  always  interested  in 
meeting  people  on  the  stage.  Do  you  know 
Marilyn  Monroe  by  any  chance?" 

"Not  really,"  he  said.  I  couldn't  figure  out 
what  that  meant.  "I'm  a  dramatic  actor,  all 
right,  but  recently  I've  been  doing  these  TV 
commercials.  It's  just  a  temporary  thing.  I've 
been  doing  things  with  my  hands." 

I  gave  him  a  blank  look. 

"You  know."  he  continued,  "picking  up  cans 
of  beer,  holding  cigarettes,  stuff  like  that.  Of 
course,  it's  not  really  acting,  but  what  are  you 
gonna  do?" 

"Stop  ignoring  me!"  the  girl  said  loudly. 
"There  are  two  kinds  of  people  in  this  world— 
those  who  ignore  and  those  who  are  ignored. 
And  I'm  tired  of  being  ignored." 

"I'm  not  ignoring  you,  doll,"  Bobby  said, 
smiling  sweetly  at  her.   "I'm  rejecting  you." 

IW  A  L  K  E  I)  into  the  living-room,  but  didn't 
see  Lee,  so  I  started  circling  the  room.  No  one 
paid  any  attention  to  me.  I  must  have  walked 
around  the  room  about  seven  times.  So  I  gave 
up  and  went  over  to  the  bookcases.  I'd  finished  a 
couple  ol  shelves  when  a  middle-aged  woman 
with  platinum  hair  and  gum  in  her  mouth  came 
over  and  told  me  I  looked  familiar. 

"Don't  I  know  you?  I  know  I  know  you.  Ever 
go  to  a  night  spot  called  the  Play  Pen?" 

I  told  her  that  I  was  afraid  not.  Then  she 
asked  me  if  she  could  fix  me  a  drink,  and  1  told 
her  that  I  didn't  drink. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  looking  at  me  sympathetically 
and  nodding,  as  if  I  had  just  made  some  deep 
confession  and  she  was  assuring  me  that  she 
understood.    "Alcoholic." 

This  struck  me  as  being  pretty  funny,  so  I 
nodded. 

"Well,  anyway,"  she  said,  patting  her  hair,  "I 
know  I've  met  you  somewhere  else."  She  spat 
her  gum  into  a  wastebasket  and  then  added, 
"Socially." 

I  nodded  and  she  turned  around  and  started 
talking  to  a  man  with  a  cigarette  holder. 

"It's  strontium  in  the  air,  darling!  That's  why 
everyone  is  acting  so  wild!"  I  heard  a  woman 
with  long  earrings  shout  at  a  small  group  of 
people. 


WALDO 


35 


A  Lester  Lanin  record  was  playing  on  the  hi-fi 
and  several  people  were  trying  to  find  room  to 
dance.  I  looked  all  around,  trying  to  find  Lee, 
but  I  didn't  see  him. 

Johnnie  was  standing  by  the  door  with  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  girls  I'd  ever  seen.  I 
walked  over  to  them  and  saw  that  he  was  trying 
to  make  her  take  her  coat  off. 

"Come°  on,  Hope,  take  your  coat  off  and  stay 
a  while,"  he  was  saying. 

"But  I  can't,  Johnnie,  I  told  you  I  can't.  I 
have  to  be  someplace  else,  and  I  just  stopped  by 
for  a  couple  of  minutes,"  the  girl  said,  trying  to 
be  nice  about  the  whole  thing. 

"Tony,"  Johnnie  said  to  me,  "this  is  Hope 
Paradise.   Isn't  that  a  name  for  you?" 

"It  happens  to  be  my  real  name,"  the  girl  said. 
"Please  let  go  of  my  .  .  ." 

"Aww,  just  stay  for  a  little  while.  Just  a  little 
longer,"  Johnnie  asked.   "Please." 

"I'd  like  to,  but  I  can't,  Johnnie,  so  please 
let  go  of  .  .  ." 

Johnnie  let  go  of  her  coat  and  she  went  out  the 
door,  closing  it  behind  her. 

"Who  was  that?"  I  asked. 

"Girl  I  know.   A  model." 

"Oh,"  I  said.  "Well,  I  have  to  go  to  the  bath- 
room." 

"Great  conversationalist,"  my  brother  said, 
clapping  me  on  the  back  and  walking  away  from 
me. 

A  girl  in  a  blue  dress  was  sitting  on  the  edge 
of  the  bathtub,  crying.  I  stood  there  for  a 
moment,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  then  I  went 
over  to  her. 

"Hey,"  I  said  quietly.    "What's  the  matter?" 

"Nobody  loves  me,"  the  girl  sobbed.  "Nobody 
loves  me." 

"Oh,"  I  said,  trying  to  comfort  her,  "sure 
they  do." 

"No,"  she  cried.  "Nobody  loves  me." 

"Well,"  I  said  brightly,  "nobody  loves  me  and 
I'm  not  crying!" 

This  failed  to  cheer  her  up. 

"Ooooooh,"  she  cried.  "I'm  so  unhappy.  No- 
body loves  me  at  all." 

She  went  on  crying. 

"Do  you  love  somebody?"  I  asked. 

"No,"  she  said,  wiping  her  eyes.   "I  can't." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  nobody  loves  me,"  she  said  and 
started  to  cry  again. 

"I'll  get  you  a  drink  and  you'll  feel  better," 
I  said.    "Be  right  back." 

I  had  to  wait  in  line  to  get  at  the  liquor. 
Finally  I  moved  in  close  enough  to  pour  out  a 


glass  of  Scotch  for  the  girl.  When  I  went  back 
into  the  bathroom,  she  was  gone. 

I  came  back  out  into  the  living-room  and 
looked  around  for  her.  Then  I  saw  Jier— dancing 
and  laughing  merrily  with  some  guy.  Annoyed, 
I  put  the  glass  down. 

Johnnie  waved  at  me  from  the  other  side  of 
the  room.  I  went  over  and  asked  him  if  he  was 
having  fun. 

"Tony,"  he  said,  throwing  his  arm  around  a 
guy  with  sad  brown  eyes,  "tell  this  jerk  not  to 
go  into  a  monastery." 

"Don't  go  into  a  monastery,"  I  said. 

"See,  Nicco?"  Johnnie  said,  leaning  against  a 
bookcase. 

"But  I  want  to  get  away  from  everything," 
Nicco  said,  looking  at  me  with  those  unhappy 
eyes.   "I  don't  like  anything  very  much." 

"Don't  you  have  to  have  some  kind  of  religious 
calling  to  become  a  monk?"  I  asked. 

"I  don't  know,"  Nicco  said,  shrugging  his 
shoulders.  "I  don't  know  anything  about  it.  I 
don't  even  know  where  any  monasteries  are. 
Even  if  I  decided  to  go,  I  wouldn't  know  where 
to  go." 

He  smiled  sadly,  and  Johnnie  pushed  him  into 
a  chair. 


36 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


"Wait  here  a  minute,"  he  said. 

Johnnie  pulled  a  book  from  the  case  and  put 
it  in  Nicco's  lap. 

"You  just  look  at  that  book,"  Johnnie  said 
emphatically.  "Study  it.  Marvel  at  its  beauty. 
Contemplate  it.  And  you'll  forget  this  monastery 
bit." 

Nicco  opened  the  book.  It  was  a  collection  of 
art  photographs  of  naked  women— running  along 
the  beach,  lying  on  the  dunes,  hanging  out  of 
sling  chairs. 

I  was  looking  over  Nicco's  shoulder  as  he 
flipped  the  pages. 

"Seen  Lee  yet?"  Johnnie  asked  me. 

"Not  yet,"  I  said,  my  eyes  fastened  on  a  woman 
doing  things  with  a  giant  beach  balloon. 

"Where  are  your  manners?"  he  asked,  pre- 
tending to  be  shocked. 

"I  couldn't  find  him,"  I  said,  still  looking 
down. 

"He's  in  the  bedroom,"  Johnnie  said.  "Eating 
caviar  with  Constance." 

"Doing  what?"  I  asked,  looking  up. 

"She's  here  with  her  husband,"  Johnnie  said. 
"Go  on  in  and  pay  your  respects." 

"I  will,"  I  said,  taking  a  last  look  at  the  book. 

WHEN  I  walked  into  the  bedroom,  I 
found  Lee  and  Constance  sitting  on  a 
huge  double  bed,  dipping  melba  rounds  into  a 
jar  of  caviar.  They  seemed  to  be  having  a  very 
serious  conversation.  Constance  looked  so  pretty 
in  a  white  dress,  and  Lee  looked  great.  He  was 
wearing  a  blue  blazer  and  a  striped  tie. 

"Everyone  spends  too  much  time  trying  to  be 
a  psychiatrist,"  Lee  was  saying.  "Everybody  is 
analyzing  everybody  else  and  they're  amateurs 
and  not  fit  for  the  job.  People  are  so  busy 
analyzing  each  other  that  no  one  seems  to  be 
just  friendly  any  more." 

Constance  nodded.  "You  should  get  married, 
Lee,"  she  said. 

"Why?"  Lee  asked. 

I  sat  down  on  the  bed  with  them,  and  we  all 
said  hello,  and  they  resumed  their  conversation. 

"Darling,"  she  said  to  Lee.  "You  don't  know. 
You  just  don't  know." 

"Well,  tell  me,"  he  said.  "I'm  ready  to  be 
convinced.  What  is  so  wonderful  about  being 
married?" 

"It's,  well,  it's  going  to  sound  corny,  but  it's  so 
true,"  she  said,  passing  her  hand  through  her 
long  brown  hair.  "It's  being  together.  Blanton 
and  I  are  so  happy  because  we  share  things.  We 
have  breakfast  together  and  talk  about  every- 
thing and  read  the  same  books  and  see  the  same 


television  shows.  And  we  go  shopping  together 
and  fix  dinner  and  do  the  dishes  and  then  go  to 
bed.  Sometimes  we  stay  up  until  five  in  the 
morning,  just  lying  there  in  bed,  talking  about 
things  and  smoking.  It's  just  being  together. 
Everywhere." 

"So  that's  what  being  married  is,"  Lee  said, 
trying  to  balance  the  jar  of  caviar  on  his  head. 

"Yes,"  Constance  said. 

"That's  fine,"  Lee  said,  putting  the  jar  back 
on  the  bed.    "But  Constance." 

"What?" 

"All  of  those  things  you  were  just  talking 
about,"  he  said.  "We  did  exactly  all  of  those 
same  things  for  several  months.  And  we  weren't 
married.  So  what's  so  wonderfully  different 
about  being  married?" 

Constance  opened  her  mouth,  closed  it,  looked 
at  Lee  for  a  moment,  brushed  the  crumbs  off 
her  skirt  and  stood  up. 

"What  a  disgustingly  common  thing  to  say," 
she  said. 

She  walked  out  of  the  room  and  Lee  offered 
me  some  caviar. 

"My  'pologies,"  Lee  said.  "Please  excuse  my 
vulgarity.  But  I'm  right.  That's  the  saving 
factor.   How've  you  been,  Tony,  old  scout?" 

He  was  pretty  tight.  We  got  up  and  walked 
out  into  the  garden,  and  I  told  him  that  I  was 
going  up  to  New  Haven  the  next  afternoon. 

"Dear  old  Yale,"  he  said.  "Mother  of  Men.  A 
gorgeous  playground." 

"Johnnie  tried  to  give  me  some  advice  this 
afternoon,  but  it  was  pretty  confusing,"  I  told 
him.  We  sat  down.  "And  Dad  just  told  me  all 
those  old  stories  about  Waldo." 

"A  mistake  on  both  their  parts,"  Lee  said. 

"They  just  wanted  to  help  me,"  I  said. 

"You're  going  to  Yale,  so  you  just  go  to  Yale 
and  you  do  what  you  want  to  do  and  make  your 
own  mistakes  if  you  have  to.  That's  all.  No 
advice.  But  Waldo.  Ah,  those  must  have  been 
the  days." 

"Dad  says  that  Waldo  couldn't  exist  at  Yale 
today,"  I  said. 

"He's  right,"  Lee  replied,  offering  me  a 
cigarette.  "You  won't  find  a  Waldo  at  Yale  or 
any  other  place,  for  that  matter.  Not  now.  We're 
just  not  set  up  to  produce  a  Waldo.  I  think  the 
world  is  in  a  state  of  slow  nervous  breakdown. 
Look  around.  Look  in  the  other  room.  What  do 
you  see?  Frustration  and  confusion.  A  group  of 
lonely,  scared,  fake  children.  People  who  have 
selected  marriage  or  alcohol  or  drugs  or  religion 
or  sex  or  suicide  or  some  form  of  destruction  or 
self-destruction  just  as  they  would  have  chosen 


WALDO 


37 


a  course  in  college,  thinking  it  would  give  them 
something.  And  what's  the  result?  Emptiness 
and  fear.  I  mean,  besides  a  lot  of  damned  non- 
sense, the  result  is  confusion  and  frustration, 
frustration  and  confusion." 

I  was  silent  for  a  minute,  and  then  I  said, 
"Sounds  pretty  depressing." 

"Nah,"  Lee  said,  putting  his  hand  on  my  knee 
for  a  moment.  "Forget  it.  Maybe  it'll  pass.  You 
don't  have  to  live  in  it  for  four  more  glorious 
years.  You've  got  those  Bright  College  Years  in 
front  of  you,  and  things  may  have  changed  by 
then.  You'll  have  a  great  time  up  at  New 
Haven." 

"I  hope  so,"  I  said,  dismally. 

"I'll  tell  you  something,  Tony,"  Lee  said.  "I'll 
make  a  confession.   Do  you  know  what  I  am?" 

I  shook  my  head. 

"An  imitation  Waldo,"  he  said.  "A  fake.  I'm 
just  as  bad  as  those  other  people  inside.  Maybe 
worse.  It's  a  hard  thing  for  me  to  admit,  but  I 
tried  to  pass  myself  oft  as  a  Waldo.  Doing  crazy 
things.  Trying  to  be  exciting  and  casual  and 
all  of  the  things  Waldo  was  supposed  to  be.  Col- 
lecting props  for  my  rooms  at  school,  searching 
out  unusual  people.  1  think  1  fooled  some  peo- 
ple. I  know  I  fooled  myself  for  a  long  time.  But 
it  wasn't  real.   Not  for  a  minute." 

I  sat  and  tried  to  see  his  face  in  the  darkness. 

"Sometimes,"  he  said,  "I  wonder  if  the  real 
Waldo  wasn't  a  lake  too." 

"He  couldn't  have  been,"  I  said. 

He  agreed,  and  we  went  back  into  the  party. 

Johnnie  was  using  the  telephone,  trying  to  con- 
vince some  girl  to  come  over  and  join  him  at  the 
party.  I  told  him  that  I  was  leaving  and  he  just 
nodded  and  went  on  talking  into  the  phone.  I 
said  good  night  to  Lee  and  he  wished  me  luck. 
Then  I  walked  on  home.  It  took  me  about  two 
hours  to  fall  asleep. 

WHEN  I  woke  up  late  the  ncxi  morning, 
the  sky  was  gray  outside  the  windows. 
Johnnie  came  in  and  put  his  cashmere  sweaters 
into  one  of  my  suitcases,  Mother  gave  me  an 
extra  fifty  dollars  and  alter  lunch  I  went  down 
to  Grand  Central. 

The  train  pulled  into  New  Haven  about  lour, 
and  I  took  a  cab  up  to  the  Old  Campus  where 
all  of  the  freshmen  live.  It  was  a  sad  afternoon, 
dark  and  (old  and  raining,  and  everything  I 
saw  looked  depressing  and  ugly— the  people  on 
the  street,  some  old  drunken  bums,  a  woman 
slapping  her  child,  the  gray  buildings,  every- 
thing.  I  pi<  I'd  up  my  room  key  and  went  over 
to  Vanderbilt   '  fall. 


Bill,  my  roommate  from  Andover,  had  not 
arrived.  Neither  had  the  two  new  guys  who  had 
been  put  in  with  us  to  share  the  two  bedrooms 
and  living-room.  All  three  of  the  rooms  looked 
pretty  bare.  It  was  cold,  and  I  felt  sort  of  sick. 
I  had  a  very  bad  headache,  and  1  was  tired.  So 
I  went  into  one  of  the  bedrooms,  lay  down  on 
one  of  the  beds,  spread  my  coat  over  me  and 
closed  my  eyes. 

I  don't  know  how  long  I  slept,  but  it  was  dark 
when  I  woke  up.  1  heard  whistling.  Someone 
was  whistling  "Among  My  Souvenirs."  I  got  up 
and  went  into  the  living-room,  but  no  one  was 
in  there. 

I  saw  a  large  steamer  trunk  with  CUnard 
stickers  on  it,  half-a-dozen  bottles  of  champagne, 
and,  on  the  mantel,  a  framed  photograph  of  a 
young  man  standing  on  a  beach  with  his  arm 
around  the  waist  of  a  girl  who  looked  exactly  like 
Marilyn  Monroe.  The  whistling  stopped,  and  I 
turned  and  saw  one  of  my  new  roommates  in  the 
doorway  of  the  other  bedroom. 

He  was  tall  and  had  close-cut  yellow  hair  and 
green  eyes,  and  he  was  holding  a  bowl  of  gold- 
fish. 

"Hello,"  he  said,  smiling.  "I'm  Waldo." 


B 


nice 


Bli 


ven 


SAN  FRANCISCO 


New  Serpents  in  Eden 


The  pleasantest  city  in  America  is  baffled 

by  an  invasion  which  threatens  to  make  it 

as  uncomfortable  as  New  York  or  Detroit. 


A  FEW  years  ago  the  editor  of  a  Parisian 
magazine  had  a  bright  idea.  He  hired  a 
nice  young  couple  to  travel  all  over  the  world 
and  write  a  series  of  articles  about  the  ten  most 
attractive  cities.  The  series  was  never  completed; 
when  the  touring  journalists  got  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, they  threw  up  the  job,  applied  for  Amer- 
ican citizenship,  and  settled  down  happily  to 
spend  the  rest  of  their  lives  by  the  Golden  Gate. 
No  San  Franciscan  was  in  the  least  surprised 
at  this  development.  One  and  all,  they  take  it 
for  granted  that  they  are  living  in  the  most 
glamorous  place  on  the  face  of  the  earth  and 
accept  it  as  only  their  due  when,  for  example,  a 
public-opinion  poll  reports  that  80  per  cent  of 
all  Americans  had  rather  move  to  the  city  by  the 
Golden  Gate  than  to  any  other.  Local  residents 
are  so  accustomed  to  having  encomiums  heaped 
upon  their  community  that  any  visitor  important 
enough  to  get  into  the  daily  papers  had  better 
say  something  nice  about  the  town,  or  else.  With 
the  famous  California  tradition  of  hospitality, 
they  probably  would  not  string  him  up  to  the 
nearest  lamp-post,  though  they  might  mention, 
in  a  friendly,  knife-edged  way,  that  the  Vigilantes 
a  hundred  years  ago  used  this  method  of  dispos- 
ing of  a  good  many  people  who  just  obviously 
didn't  belong  in  such  a  blessed  area;  but  he  would 
certainly  be  made  to  feel  so  unwelcome  that  after 
a  last  twilight  look  from  the  Top  o'  the  Mark, 
he  would  pack  his  bags  and  sneak  off  to  some 
city  with  a  lower  level  of  civic  loyalty— Los 
Angeles,  for  instance,  where  every  second  person 


you  meet  will  agree  warmly  about  the  smog  and 
the  other  shortcomings  of  the  town. 

It  is  sad  to  report,  then,  that  San  Francisco, 
this  Paradise  by  the  Pacific,  is  in  serious  trouble; 
but  the  journalist's  duty  to  truth  comes  ahead  of 
everything  else. 

THE    SECRET    OF    THE    CHARM 

BEFORE  we  get  to  that  problem,  we  should 
pause  to  admit  that  San  Francisco  does  have 
unique  qualities.  Many  people  have  said  so,  and 
a  lot  of  them  were  writers,  who  have  the  perhaps 
unfair  advantage  over  other  people  of  having 
their  remarks  printed  and  preserved.  I  shall  sum- 
mon only  one  contemporary  witness— Kenneth 
Rexroth,  the  poet,  who  has  seen  a  lot  of  places 
and  says  firmly  that  this  is  "one  of  the  easiest 
cities  in  the  world  to  live  in.  It  is  the  easiest  in 
America.  ...  If  I  couldn't  live  here  I  would 
leave  the  United  States  for  someplace  like  Aix  en 
Provence."  Turning  himself,  by  poetic  license, 
into  a  multitude  he  adds,  a  little  cryptically, 
"Poets  come  to  San  Francisco  for  the  same  reason 
so  many  Hungarians  have  been  going  to  Austria 
recently." 

If  a  city  is  unique,  there  must  be  a  reason,  and 
in  the  case  under  discussion  one  can  think  off- 
hand of  several. 

Among  them  is  certainly  the  novel  climate. 
The  Chamber  of  Commerce  firmly  states  that 
San  Francisco  has  many  fair  days,  and  more 
sunshine  than  seven  out  of  ten  leading  American 
cities;  but  if  "fair  day"  means  what  I  think, 
the  C.  of  C.  has  never  stuck  its  head  out  the 
window.  The  city  is  foggy,  windy,  and  cool  from 
Labor  Day  until  Decoration  Day;  during  the 
three  summer  months,  it  is  foggy,  windy,  and  cold. 
Late  every  afternoon,  practically  the  year  round, 
a   stiff  sea    breeze    blows    in    from    the    Pacific, 


SAN     FRANCISCO:     NEW     SERPENTS     IN     EDEN 


39 


carrying  with  it  on  many  days  fog  heavy  enough 
to  require  windshield  wipers  and  headlights. 
The  San  Franciscans  do  not  turn  blue  with  the 
cold  as  the  Londoners  do  (the  idea  that  the 
ancient  Britons  painted  themselves  that  color 
is  obviously  a  misunderstanding);  the  men  are 
ruddy,  and  the  girls  have  glowing  pink  com- 
plexions, bitterly  envied  by  the  baked-out  women 
of  the  rest  of  California.  They  wear  suits,  furs, 
gloves,  hats,  and  veils  all  the  year,  merely  chang- 
ing to  slightly  heavier  fabrics  in  summer. 

A  sad  but  familiar  sight  in  San  Francisco  is 
a  summer  tourist  from  the  East  shivering 
miserably  in  Union  Square  on  an  August  day. 
He  is  wearing  an  ice-cream  suit;  he  may  even 
have  on  a  straw  hat— two  items  totally  omitted 
from  the  wardrobe  of  the  well-dressed  San  Fran- 
ciscan. He  is  so  wretched  that  it  is  standard 
procedure  for  some  well-clothed  native  to  hustle 
him  into  the  nearest  bar  for  first  aid. 

Most  of  California  is  very  dry,  very  hot  in 
summer,  and  stimulating  to  feverish  if  meaning- 
less activity  such  as  laying  out  subdivisions.  San 
Francisco's  coolness  is  damp  and  relaxing.  The 
city  does  an  enormous  amount  of  business— in 
banking,  for  instance,  it  leads  all  Pacific  coast 
rivals— but  it  does  it  in  a  casual  manner.  Its  busy 
people  are  never  too  busy  to  knock  off  for  a  spot 
of  golf,  to  sail  the  (often  stormy)  waters  of  the 
Bay,  or  to  show  an  Eastern  visitor  the  town. 

Another  element  in  the  city's  charm  is  its 
topography.  Most  American  cities  tend  to  be 
flat,  whereas  San  Francisco  tends  to  be  perpen- 
dicular. The  exact  number  of  the  city's  hills  is 
in  dispute,  but  there  are  three  important  ones 
in  a  row  along  the  edge  of  the  Bay  toward  the 
Golden  Gate— Telegraph,  Nob,  and  Russian.  All 
of  them  are  so  steep  that  sensible  people  would 
ascend  them  only  by  means  of  firemen's  ladders, 
but  the  San  Franciscans  casually  whip  up  and 
down  these  dreadful  heights  in  automobiles. 
Each  hill  is  covered  with  a  gridiron  of  streets; 
not  only  must  you  drive  up  a  practically  inacces- 
sible cliff,  but  at  every  intersection  you  must 
stop  for  cross  traffic  and  hang  there  suspended 
over  infinity  before  you  start  up  again. 

San  Francisco  has  heard  of  traffic  lights,  but 
doesn't  believe  in  them.  There  are  a  few;  there 
are  also  a  few  stop  signs,  and  some  exemplars  of 
a  wonderful  birdcage  on  a  pole,  in  which  a  slid- 
ing panel  comes  into  view  from  time  to  time 
with  "Stop"  or  "Go"  painted  on  it.  But  the  most 
typical  situation  is  one  where  the  intersection  is 
boycotted  by  the  police,  and  cars  coming  from 
four  or  more  directions  bull  their  way  out  until 
the  man  with   the  more  aggressive  personality 


wins.  This  is  wonderful  exercise  for  the  adrenal 
glands. 

In  addition  to  climate  and  topography,  there 
are  the  standard  tourist  attractions,  and  if  you 
think  I'm  going  to  omit  mention  of  them,  you 
don't  understand  the  long  arm  of  the  Chamber 
of  Commerce.  There  are  the  antique  cable  cars, 
clanging  their  way  up  and  down  those  terrifying 
hills,  with  the  passengers  enthusiastically  tum- 
bling off  to  help  push  the  car  around  on  the 
turntable  at  the  end  of  the  line.  There  is  the 
Cliff  House,  looking  out  at  the  sea  lions  romping 
on  the  Seal  Rocks  and  beyond  them  to  six  thou- 
sand miles  of  blue  water.  There  are  the  tremen- 
dous panoramas  of  ocean,  bay,  and  mountains  to 
be  seen  in  all  directions,  so  thrilling  that  San 
Franciscans  steadfastly  refuse  to  buy  paintings 
to  hang  on  their  walls,  feeling  that  no  artist  can 
compete  with  the  view.  There  are  the  famous 
restaurants;  only  New  York  and  possibly  New 
Orleans  can  vie  with  them  in  quality,  and  prob- 
ably no  other  city  in  the  Western  hemisphere 
has  as  many  in  proportion  to  population. 

EGGHEAD     FORTY-EIGHTERS 

EVERYONE  has  heard  of  the  roaring 
Forty-Niners  who  turned  a  somnolent  Span- 
ish village  into  a  hustling  American  city,  as  a 
casual  incident  of  their  rush  to  the  gold  mines. 
What  is  less  well-known  is  that  the  new  town 
had  another  set  of  progenitors,  the  Forty- 
Eighters.  In  that  year  Europe  boiled  with 
political  unrest,  and  many  of  her  finest  liberal 
spirits  had  to  flee,  or  face  the  prospect  of  long- 
prison  sentences  for  subversive  activity.  A  lot  of 
them  came  to  the  New  World,  and  a  large  pro- 
portion got  as  far  from  Europe  as  they  could— 
without  encroaching  on  the  Orient— by  coming 
all  the  way  around  the  Horn.  Their  presence 
helps  to  explain  why,  within  only  a  few  years 
after  James  Marshall  had  stumbled  over  gold  at 
Sutter's  Mill,  San  Francisco  provided  audiences 
for  the  finest  music,  drama,  and  other  forms  of 
artistic  expression  that  London  or  New  York 
had  to  offer. 

The  first  circulating  libraries  in  California 
specialized  in  books  in  German,  French,  and 
Italian;  and  the  readers  of  those  books  set  cul- 
tural standards  that  are  still  respected  today. 
San  Francisco  is  one  of  the  very  few  American 
cities  with  its  own  annual  season  of  locally-pro- 
duced and  brilliantly-performed  opera,  and  its 
own  symphony  orchestra,  whose  successive  leaders 
have  included  some  of  the  most  famous  musical 
names  of  two  generations.    Its  art  museums  are 


40 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


of  high  quality;  it  is  a  good  theater  town  for 
traveling  companies.  It  has  half-a-dozen  (nsi- 
i.i  11  k  bookstores,  those  touchstones  of  the  cul- 
ture  of  cities,  .mil  one  ol  the  niosi  successful  of 
the  non-commercial  TV  stations  -KQED— which 
originates  many  excellent  programs,  especially 
in  science,  that  are  subsequently  displayed  on 
the  other  noncommercial  stations  of  the  No- 
Money  Netwoi  L 

GREENWICH    VILLAGE    OUT    WEST 

SAN  Francisco  lias  its  own  Greenwich  Vil- 
lage, though  like  the  one  ill  New  York,  it  is 
rapidly  being  destroyed  as  a  physical  entity  by 
new  high-rent  living  quarters  which  the  creative 
woi  ker  can  rarely  afford.  The  Bohemians  decades 
ago  clustered  on  Telegraph  Hill,  sharing  it  with 
the  Italians  whose  chief  source  ol  livelihood  was 
and  is  lisliing. 

A  good  deal  has  been  written  lately  about  an 
upsurge  in  artistic  expression  by  young  and 
vigorous  talent  in  San  Francisco;  it  is  a  mark  of 
the  Vge  ol  Publicity  that  this  movement  should 
have  been  widely  heralded  almost  before  it  had 
begun  and  in  terms  thai  seem  somewhat  excessive 
in  view  of  the  accomplishment.  At  the  moment, 
the  best  known  individual  is  a  promising  thirty- 
li\e\e.n  old  novelist,  rack  Kerouac,  whose  second 

published  novel  is  On  the  Road.  Mr.  Kerouac 
claims  to  speak  lor  the  "beat"  generation. 
This  does  not  mean,  as  some  people  have 
assumed,  beaten  down,  or  even  beaten  up;  it  is 
what  old-fashioned  people  like  me  would  refer 
to  as  real  cool;  not  a  square  in  a  carload.  The 
philosophy  is  that  of  young  hedonists  who  don't 
really  care  whether  something  is  good  oi   evil,  as 

long  as  it  is  enjoyable.  In  short,  Existentialism 
with  a  crew  cut.  Since  the  famous  Lost  Genera- 
tion of  the  1920s  consisted  ol  about  ten  people, 
it  is  possible  that  Mr.  Kerouac 's  group,  even 
allowing  lor  inflation,  may  number  not  more 
than  about  twenty. 

There  is  also  Mr.  Rexroth,  who  was  the  first 
of  several  local  bards  to  begin  reciting  poetry  in 
night  clubs  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  jazz 
orchestra.  (Two  others  are  Kenneth  Pan  hen  and 
Lawrence  Ferlinghetti.)  The  night  club  patrons 
appear  intrigued  by  this. 

\i  San  Francisco  State  College  there  is  a  Poetry 
Center,  subsidized,  oddly  enough,  by  the  Rocke- 
feller Foundation,  at  which  many  poets,  some  of 

them    deservedly    famous,    have    appealed    and 

given  readings  from  their  own  works. 

Mine  is  i  group  ol  younger  poets,  painters, 
and  musicians,  singularly  like  the  similar  group 


that  is  always  functioning  in  most  American 
cities;  a  lot  ol  the  poets  belong  to  the  familiar 
rats-among-the-garbage  school,  lew  of  them  are 
quite  good  enough  to  break  through  on  the 
national  scene,  but  all  ol  them  have  a  lot  of  fun 
while  being  lionized  mostly  by  each  other— at 
home.  Manv  ol  these  young  artists  adhere  to  the 
cult  of  unintelligibility,  which  produces  poetry 
with  little  meaning  s.ive  to  the  poet,  non-repre- 
sentational painting,  and  cacophonous  music. 
S.i n  Francisco  loves  its  Bright  Young  People,  and 
will  do  anything  lor  them— except,  of  course,  to 
read  their  writing,  look  at  their  pictures,  or 
listen  to  I  heir  music .  As  is  the  case  with  most  of 
the  young  revoltes  the  world  over,  a  goodly  pro- 
portion  ol  them  are  siill  being  supported  by 
Papa,  who  is,  in  Shaw's  famous  saving,  bourgeois 
to  his  boots. 

An  exception  should  be  noted  for  the  Little 
Theaters.  Commercial  drama  is  sparse  in  San 
Francisco,  with  only  three  houses  available  for 
the  traveling  companies  of  last  season's  Broadway 
successes,  and  the  gap  is  Idled  by  a  remarkable 
proliferation  ol  acting  groups,  many  of  them  so 
good  and  so  sue  c  esslul  that  they  are  at  least  quasi- 
professional.  II  iluv  could  afford  it,  the  Little 
'1  heaters  would  doubtless  produce  modern  plays 
that  only  a  little  handful  of  c  ultists  would  attend; 
but  to  run  a  theater  costs  money,  and  they  have 
to  compromise  with  the  public  taste.  They  do 
this  with  remarkable  success;  ihev  produce  a 
reasonable  proportion  of  modern  experimental 
wot  ks  like  "Waiting  for  Godot,"  interlarded  with 
the  classics,  ranging  all  the  way  lioin  the  ancient 
Greeks  to  Sheridan  and  Moliere.  plus  a  reason- 
able proportion  of  the  Broadway  smash  hits  of  a 
lew  years  ago.  I  he  result  is  that  there  are  always 
ai  least  loui  or  live  plays  running  which  any  in- 
telligent person  can  enjoy  seeing.  Directing, 
acting,  stage  design,  and  lighting  are  good,  and 
many  of  these  plays  give  three  or  lour  per- 
formances a  week  lor  months  on  end. 

I  should  add  (hat  plenty  of  competent,  adult 
practitioners  ol  all  the  arts  live  and  work  in  San 
Francisco  and  environs;  but,  as  is  true  every- 
where, they  spend  their  time  practicing  their 
professions,  and  cause  little  more  public  stir  than 
tin  sober  bankers  or  housewives  they  so  often 
resemble. 

LIVING    TOGETHER 

THE  city  has  large  colonies  with  varying 
racial  and  cultural  backgrounds  and  ad- 
justs to  them  remarkably  well,  on  the  whole. 
Chinatown  still  exists,  but  nearly  all  its  iuhabi- 


SAN     FRANCISCO:     NEW     SERPENTS     IN     EDEN 


41 


tants  today  are  American-born,  speak  unaccented 
current  slang  fluently,  and  act  and  think  like  any 
native  white  Protestant  in  Emporia,  Kansas.  An 
era  came  to  an  end  when  dial  telephones  sup- 
planted the  famous  old  Chinese  exchange  with 
its  brilliant  corps  of  bilingual  girl  operators.  The 
Chinatown  of  the  sight-seeing  buses  is  almost 
entirely  a  tourist  trap. 

During  the  second  world  war,  there  was  a 
heavy  influx  of  Negroes  who  came  to  work  in 
shipyards  and  other  war  plants  around  the  shores 
of  San  Francisco  Bay.  At  that  time  there  was 
some  racial  tension,  part  of  which  was  probably 
sparked  by  enemy  agents.  Today  the  Negro  com- 
munity of  43,000  gives  every  appearance  of  get- 
ting on  well  with  its  white  neighbors. 

THE    SEAMIER     SIDE 

THERE  are  a  few  puzzling,  discordant 
notes  in  the  happy  symphony  of  San  Fran- 
cisco life.  One  of  these  is  the  astonishingly  high 
rate  of  alcoholism,  much  the  highest  in  the 
nation.  San  Franciscans  average  4.57  gallons  of 
distilled  spirits  every  year,  several  times  the  na- 
tional level,  and  the  death  rate  from  cirrhosis  of 
the  liver  is  3.5  times  higher.  San  Francisco's  Skid 
Row  is  one  of  the  worst  and  most  heavily  popu- 
lated to  be  found  anywhere.  Problem  drinkers 
are  estimated  to  number  as  high  as  one  in  every 
six  adults,  while  the  national  average  is  less  than 
one  in  sixteen. 

There  are  no  accurate  statistics  on  the  use  of 
narcotics,  since  that  trade  is  underground,  but 
there  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  it  is  high. 
The  city  is  a  heavy  port  of  entry  for  dope  smug- 
glers, in  spite  of  earnest  efforts  by  federal,  state, 
and  local  authorities.  At  a  recent  public  hearing 
on  this  subject,  a  confessed  narcotics  user  offered 
as  a  demonstration  to  buy  drugs  on  almost  any 
corner  in  the  downtown  district  on  a  few 
minutes'  notice,  and  nobody  seemed  to  feel  that 
this  suggestion  was  improbable. 

The  suicide  rate  in  San  Francisco  is  also  high, 
three  times  the  national  average.  A  favorite  form 
of  self-destruction  is  to  jump  off  the  Golden  Gate 
Bridge;  almost  two  hundred  persons  have  done 
so,  and  a  lot  more  have  been  stopped  by  alert 
motorists  as  they  were  climbing  over  the  railing. 

The  psychiatrists  offer  several  explanations  for 
one  or  more  of  these  phenomena.  San  Fran- 
ciscans have  had  a  reputation  as  hard  drinkers, 
going  back  to  the  earliest  days,  and  a  cultural 
tradition  of  this  sort  is  more  important  than 
many  people  realize.  The  cold,  damp  climate 
encourages  the  consumption  of  gin  and  whiskey; 


even  though  there  is  a  big  Italian  colony,  and 
large  amounts  of  excellent  wine  are  made  only  a 
few  miles  away  to  the  north  and  south,  San  Fran- 
ciscans have  never  become  wine  drinkers,  though 
they  do  better  than  the  inhabitants  of  most  other 
American  cities. 

California  has  far  more  than  her  normal  share 
of  the  nation's  neurotics  and  crackpots,  the 
unstable  characters  who  move  from  community 
to  community.  These  human  tumbleweeds  have 
always  had  a  tendency  to  drift  toward  the  West, 
until  they  pile  up  along  the  edge  of  the  Pacific 
Ocean.  Many  of  them  find  a  spiritual  home  in 
the  environs  of  Los  Angeles;  but  some  others 
feel  out  of  place  in  the  brisk  go-getter  atmosphere 
of  that  community,  move  north  four  hundred 
miles,  and  end  up  killing  themselves,  or  vegetat- 
ing among  the  hopeless  drunks  of  San  Francisco's 
Skid  Row.  Such,  at  least,  is  the  theory. 

"THE    PAPERS    ARE    TERRIBLE" 

IT  I S  a  ritual  among  the  San  Francisco  in- 
tellectuals, as  it  is  in  every  city,  to  announce 
that  daily  journalism  is  at  a  very  low  ebb.  "The 
papers  are  simply  awful,"  they  tell  one  another. 
"Nothing  in  them  but  a  lot  of  crime  and  beauty 
contests."  To  be  sure,  it  always  turns  out  on 
inquiry  that  these  intellectuals  have  not  read 
whatever  good,  solid  news  of  politics  and  eco- 
nomics the  papers  did  publish. 

"I've  been  rushing  around  like  mad;  haven't 
looked  at  a  paper  for  days,"  is  the  explanation, 
with  the  owlish  addition,  "I'm  sure  I  haven't 
missed  much." 

The  intellectuals  are  somewhat  unfair  to  San 
Francisco  journalism  of  today.  Of  its  five  chief 
daily  newspapers,  four  belong  to  national  chains, 
and  are  certainly  up  to  or  slightly  ahead  of  the 
national  average  for  a  city  of  this  size.  The  local 
edition  of  the  Wall  Street  Journal  is  almost 
identical  with  the  one  in  New  York;  and  there 
are  a  Scripps-Howard  paper,  the  News,  and 
morning  and  evening  Hearst  journals,  the 
Examiner  and  the  Call-Bulletin.  The  fifth  paper 
is  the  Chronicle,  much  the  most  interesting  of  the 
lot  to  any  student  of  the  press.  It  has  very  few 
syndicated  features,  but  a  flock  of  local  writers 
and  artists,  and  their  material,  while  naturally  of 
uneven  quality,  has  the  indigenous  flavor  so  com- 
pletely missing  from  most  American  journalism 
today.  (Several  Chronicle  writers  and  artists  are 
good  enough  to  be  syndicated  from  their  San 
Francisco  base.)  While  this  paper  has  its-ups  and 
downs,  at  its  best  it  is  more  like  the  old  morning 
New  York  World  than  any  other  I  know  of. 


42 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


Jo  Los  Angeles 
Any  San  Franciscan  regards  the  suggestion  that  he  move  to  the  suburbs  as  insane. 


Ninety-five  per  cent  of  the  time,  the  San  Fran- 
cisco papers  remember  that  theirs  is  a  sophisti- 
cated world  city,  and  act  accordingly.  Two  un- 
important exceptions:  They  love  to  report  when 
local  boy  or  girl  makes  good,  in  any  capacity,  in 
New  York,  and  they  record  every  article  about 
San  Francisco  appearing  in  the  national  press, 
with  the  appropriate  words  of  praise  or  reproof. 

It  is  a  mark  of  San  Francisco's  charm  that  so 
many  of  its  newspapermen  (as  well  as  other 
writers)  have  produced  books  that  are  in  fact 
long  love  letters  to  the  city.  The  chief  current 
example,  and  one  of  the  most  prolific,  is 
columnist,  Herb  Caen,  currently  in  the  Chron- 
icle, who  spins  endless  thousands  of  words  about 
"Baghdad-by-the-Bay"  without  seeming  to  do 
more  than  keep  up  with  the  unwearying  demand 
of  his  fascinated  readers. 

NO    MANIA     FOR    GROWTH 

SA  N  Francisco's  serious  trouble,  mentioned 
earlier,  is  something  forced  upon  her  by 
commuters  from  the  surrounding  region.  The 
city  itself  is.  remarkable  in  that  it  shares  little  if 
at  all  in  the  current  American  mania  for  un- 
limited growth,  regardless  of  the  quality  of  that 
growth.  There  are  no  big  billboards  as  you  ap- 
proach the  city,  signed  by  the  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce, proudly  showing  that  the  population  has 


doubled  in  the  past  few  years,  and  bragging  that 
it  will  be  five  times  larger  in  1980.  It  is  true  that 
the  population  is  growing,  but  so  slowly— com- 
pared to  Los  Angeles,  for  example— that  it  seems 
like  a  crawl.  In  1930,  the  city  had  634,394;  ten 
years  later,  it  had  increased  by  only  142  people, 
to  634,536.  The  war  brought  a  bulge  to  775,000 
in  the  1950  census,  and  another  35,000  (esti- 
mated) have  been  added  in  the  past  seven  years. 
California  as  a  whole  has  doubled  while  San 
Francisco  has  gone  up  only  27  per  cent. 

This  lack  of  frenetic  emphasis  on  growth  is 
certainly  due  in  part  to  the  superior  sophistica- 
tion of  the  San  Franciscans,  who  enjoy  their  town 
so  much  that  they  see  no  reason  for  sharing  it 
with  a  lot  of  strangers;  but  there  are  also  some 
other  factors.  San  Francisco  City  and  County 
(which  are  coterminous)  are  bounded  on  three 
sides  by  water  and  on  the  fourth  by  San  Mateo 
County;  there  is  very  little  room  left  in  the  city 
for  additional  long  rows  of  gray-white  houses, 
the  indigenous  architectural  expression. 

More  people  could  be  accommodated,  and 
conditions  in  general  made  more  miserable,  by 
erecting  a  lot  of  skyscraper  apartment  buildings, 
and  in  fact  there  are  a  few  of  these  on  the 
highest  hills,  with  rents  that  are  stiff  even  by  New 
York  standards.  But  apartment  houses  of  this 
type  are  unlikely  ever  to  be  popular.  San  Fran- 
ciscans have  vividly  in  the  backs  of  their  minds 


SAN     FRANCISCO:     NEW     SERPENTS     IN     EDEN 


43 


the  earthquake  and  fire  of  1906  which  killed  sev- 
eral hundred  people  and  did  damage  of  hundreds 
of  millions  of  dollars.  Nowadays,  the  builders  say 
confidently  that  steel  and  concrete  construction 
is  earthquake-proof;  but  the  San  Franciscans 
maintain  their  mass  aversion  to  living  higher 
than  the  second  or  third  story.  Moreover,  they 
are  still  Californians,  after  all,  and  they  like  at 
least  a  scrap  of  garden  of  their  own. 

But  if  the  city  by  the  Golden  Gate  is  miracu- 
lously satisfied  with  its  size,  the  same  cannot  be 
said  for  its  suburbs.  Southern-California-type 
boosterism  has  crept  north  like  the  smog,  and  its 
enveloping  tentacles  are  now  ominously  close  to 
San  Francisco  on  all  sides.  Vis-a-vis  the  suburbs, 
San  Francisco  is  in  the  position  of  Laocoon,  with 
the  boys  on  the  side  of  the  serpents. 

In  Marin  County  to  the  north,  among  the  East 
Shore  communities,  and  down  the  Peninsula  into 
the  Santa  Clara  Valley,  beautiful  little  towns  of  a 
generation  ago  are  frantically  trying  to  ruin 
themselves  with  masses  of  new  population— and 
in  most  cases  are  succeeding.  The  number  of 
people  increases  so  fast  that  even  with  tardy  San 
Francisco  added,  the  population  of  the  entire 
area  has  been  doubling  about  every  seventeen 
years.  Lovely  (and  highly  profitable)  fruit 
orchards  are  bulldozed  to  a  pulp,  to  be  succeeded 
by  row  upon  row  of  tacked-together  little  houses 
in  "California  modern"  style,  each  with  two-car 
garage,  flagged  patio,  and  outdoor  barbecue.  The 
overwhelming  majority  of  these  are  sold  on  the 
installment  plan,  with  a  down  payment  as  small 
as  the  law  permits  and  the  balance  "like  rent." 
If  we  had  a  sharp  depression,  thousands  of  these 
houses  would  go  back  to  the  bank,  to  be  resold 
or  rented;  experts  on  planning  believe  that  large 
areas  might  then  degenerate  into  semi-slums. 
(This  huge  increment  does  not,  of  course,  repre- 
sent a  flight  from  the  city,  as  it  does  in  other 
parts  of  America.  Any  San  Franciscan  would 
regard  the  suggestion  that  he  go  and  live  some- 
where else  as  insane.) 

Just  why  the  Chambers  of  Commerce  of  all 
these  towns  (and  many  private  citizens)  work  so 
hard  to  commit  suicide  by  overpopulation  is 
something  of  a  mystery.  The  growth  would  be 
bad  enough  without  any  encouragement  at  all. 
While  a  few  individuals  make  money  out  of  the 
influx,  even  these  are  disadvantaged  in  the  end 
by  the  wholesale  destruction  of  the  amenities  of 
life,  and  for  most  of  the  population  the  entire 
development  is  a  net  loss.  Having  swamped  the 
community  with  new  low-income  residents,  most 
of  whom  cost  more  in  public  services  than  they 
pay  in  taxes,  the  Chambers  of  Commerce  turn 


around  and  try  to  bring  in  industry  to  carry  part 
of  the  load  which  they  themselves  have  willfully 
produced.  Economically,  this  proposition  is  often 
a  dubious  one:  industry  itself  demands  special 
and  sometimes  expensive  service  from  the  com- 
munity. You  practically  never  hear  of  any  town 
where  the  tax  rate  goes  down  after  industry 
comes;  and  miles  of  factories  damage  the 
amenities  even  farther.  The  suburbs  have  con- 
tributed to  a  smog  problem  that  has  caused  deep 
concern,  and  vigorous  action  to  try  to  cure  it. 

WERE    THE    BRIDGES 
A      MISTAKE? 

EVERY  city  has  elderly  mourners,  like  me, 
proclaiming  that  things  are  not  as  good  as 
the  old  days.  In  my  case,  having  begun  to  live 
in  San  Francisco,  intermittently,  in  1908,  I  can 
fix  the  date  of  disaster  closely:  1936,  when  the 
first  of  the  two  great  bridges  was  built.  These 
are  among  the  proudest,  most  dramatic  and 
beautiful  overwater  structures  in  the  world.  One 
of  them  crosses  the  Bay  to  Oakland  and  is  among 
the  longest  of  its  kind  on  earth;  the  other  spans 
the  Golden  Gate  itself  to  Marin  County  and  is 
the  world's  greatest  single  arch.  At  night,  when 
the  Bay  Bridge  strings  its  necklace  of  light  above 
the  dark  waters,  or  in  the  late  afternoon,  as  the 
Golden  Gate  Bridge  disappears  to  its  tower  tops 
into  the  swirling  fog,  they  lift  the  heart  with 
their  beauty. 

Yet  it  is  not  hard  to  see  that  from  some  points 
of  view  these  bridges  were  a  mistake.  Across 
them,  and  up  the  narrow  bottleneck  of  the 
Peninsula,  300,000  commuters  swarm  into  San 
Francisco  every  morning  and  swarm  back  again 
at  night— adding  one-half  to  the  city's  adult 
population.  Both  these  bridges,  and  the  Bay- 
shore  Freeway,  the  chief  artery  leading  down  the 
Peninsula,  long  ago  reached  what  seemed  to  be 
the  limit  of  saturation;  yet  always  a  few  more 
cars  manage  to  squeeze  into  the  flood.  These 
daily  visitors  congest  the  traffic  in  San  Francisco's 
streets  until  it  is  almost  as  bad  as  in  New  York  or 
London.  Finding  a  place  to  park  is  a  desperate 
problem;  the  building  of  new  garages  in  the 
business  district  falls  far  behind  the  steady 
growth  of  traffic,  and  in  San  Francisco,  as  in 
so  many  other  places,  downtown  is  seriously 
threatened  with  decay. 

The  commuters  constitute  an  important  share 
of  San  Francisco's  businessmen;  yet  as  indi- 
viduals, they  pay  no  taxes  there,  nor  do  they 
participate,  as  residents,  in  the  city's  political 
or  social  life.   Even  economically,  they  are  largely 


II 


II  A  It  r  I    It    S      M    V  (.  A  /  I  N  I 


dioiii  .     lIllCI    IllOSl   "I   tin  ii    1 1 '  >  1 1  .<  1 1  <  >  I  <  I   jiiii  i  li.i   in)" 

i .  cloni   ill    hopping  centcri  neai  i  hen  homi 
'••■in.   oi  i in   problcmi  created  by  i his  pattei n 

.J    ■  1 .  1 1 1  \    i  <  >  i tiii'     .inn    .iliini.i     1 1 1  ,i  ill  1 1  ili      the 

withdrawal  ol  10  many  g I  citizens  from  the 

city's  hi' .  and  i licit   failure  to  pa)   theii   share 

•  J  i  in  ii  mi  iii  1 1 H  coiiui  .inni  1 1  n  j  1 1 1 .1 1 1      in  N  j 
1. 1  1 1 1 1 1  up  wild  i in    physical  problem  ihc  itatc 

.ii  H I  1 1  ii  ■  n  \  logcthei  have  laced  the dty 

whIi   greni    freeways,    1 1 1 1 ■■.      in  i    and    concrete 

ii mi  i  ■    running  I" u  ii  ol  iheii   li  ngt li  on 

stills,  destroying  the  beauty  iii  man)  parts  ol  th< 
town     i  in  1 1   .in  -,t ill  more  ol  th<  ■<■  freeways  lo 

■ '      i  in   J.  ,i'  in  i  .  have  done  i  hcii  best  with 

i  in    ii  i  ii.  iiii  i  ,    I  mm   i.i  i  n  i    in  iw   symmetrical 

i in  arches,  and  how  dramatii   the  ''ill ettc,  an 

elevated     ipecdway     is    still     just     i  hal    sy . 

odoril ii  ii H I  blot  I  iug  the  \  lew     m si  i  vi  ry 

i  .ii  mi  .i  [rccwuy,  .>i  coui sc,  m  oni    | i  oi  an 

hi  in  i  comes  dow to  the  city  streets,  making 

1 1 ii".  .n. hi  i  \ 1 1 1  worm 

i  in    people   "i    i lir   i  n\    iinii'i    i <  .i 1 1 \    t  now 

w  ii.H    i..  .in  in   theii    dil hi    nor,  so   Eai    as 

i  .  hi  discover,  do<     inj i  i  Isc     i  hci c  Is  talk 

..i   ,i   hngi    in  w    rupid-ti ansii   systi  in,  extending 
thirty  oi  tort)  miles  In  ill  direct s  (excepi  the 


iii.    hope  would  be  thai   the  automobile 

"> uteri  would  then  leave  theii  can  ai  home, 

i  hen   i>  also  talk  ol  a  string  ol  peripheral  park 

in:;    lotS,    Willi    lin     m     imi\|«ii.hi      bus    Service 

iinin  i In  in  in  i in  in  ,ii  i  ni  the  i  us  Neil hei  ol 
these  plans  has  worked  very  well  in  any  othei 
•  i  mi  in  u  1 1 1 1  \  Someone  sometimes  suggests  a 
special  Lax  on  commuters,  politically  unworkable 
.iimI  probably  un<  onsi itutional. 


M 


i   .  it  i.  K  «•  it  i)  i  \  i. 

i    VN  WHILE,   San   Fri scans  seem 

in  me  remarkably  patient  undci  theii 
ordeal  I  hi  j  do  noi  descend  upon  the  sub* 
inlis  wiih  i iii<  him ks  .iikI  shotguns,  as  you 
might  expect;  feeling  themselves,  as  inhabitants 

■  ■I   il i\.  blessed  beyond  ordinary  mortals, 

theii  charity  is  largei  than  life-size,  Gazing  ai 
iin  towers  "i  the  <  - < •  N I < - ■  ■  Gate  Bridge  rising  in 
the  'ii'  alii  moon  from  the  cottony  fog,  oi  look 

ni"  down  from  Nob  Mill  ai  nighi  ui the  vasl 

panorama  ol  shii ering  lights  below,  they  Eoi 

give  the  despoilcrs. 

Alii  i  .ill.  the  sea,  ii>«  bay,  and  the  mountains 
are  si  ill  here.   Ami  snii  intat  t. 


1 1  I  I )  I )  I ,  IN    I  l{  I :  A  S  I "  R  IS   I  IN    I )  A  R  KEST  1 1  n  IM )  K  E  IN 

IN    I  1 1  i    i  iii  lie.  i  <l.i\s  iii  the  .H  "i  1 1 H  bomb  projei  i  there  was,  "I  course,  .i  require 
in  in  lui  .i  considerable  tonnagi  ol  ura ire,   Uranium  al  thai  nine  had  very 

limited  commercial  importance  coloring  .'i  vases  and  radium  was  .ii>.mi  .ill  so 
\.i\  hill.  w.i.  mined  K  reprcscntativi  "I  the  U,  S  governmeni  sought  <>m  the 
in. m  who,  as  the  head  <>i  the  Belgian  concern  thai  had  been  mining  uranium  i<h 
radium  in  the  Congo,  might  help  out.  Well,  the  Germans  had  taken  ovei  in 
iiu.i|.<  1 1 1. 1  this  in. in  Edgai  Scrigiei  ol  the  i  nion  Miniere  was  in  ihc  United 
States  i  in  1 1 1 H  i  mi  1 1. 1 1  n  c  ni  i  in  ii-  s.i  m  came  i<»  this  man  .mil  said,  "The  U  Si 
governmeni  would  1 1 k < ■  to  gel  -i  big  tonnage  "I  uranium  ore  We  thought  thai 
you  mighi  be  tin  man  i<>  mine  sunn-  i>>i  n-.  Mow  long  will  it  take  to  get  us  .i 
large  tonnagi  Sengiei  answered,  "Well,  we  arc  now  al  the  Waldorl  Vstoria. 
How  long  will  ii  take  .«  taxi  to  gel  i<>  the  docks  in  Hobokeni  I  he  largest  reserve 
nl  uranium  ore  i ii.it  I  know  ,>i  is  ritthl  here,  in  •>  warehouse,  in  ii<<-  New  Vork 


Well,  "in  Belgian  friend,  instead  >>i  leaving  uranium  around,  had  put  it  in 
steel  drums,  shipped  il  i<>  flohokcn,  and  stored  it  there,  s<>.  in  .<  way,  the  Rrsl 
i. ii"i  scale  uranium  m.   mining  \ v . t ^  in  Hoboken 

David  I  iii.iuii.il.  speaking  i<>  the  American  Institute  ol  Mining  and  Metal- 
(urgii  id  i  ngineet s,  i  ebt  uat  j   i(>.  1955 


James  and    Annette  Baxter 


THE  MAN 

in  the  Blue 
Suede  Shoes 


01'  Elvia  Presley  may  be  a  better 

musician    than   mosl    people   dare    lo   admit — 

and  be  might  be  offering  ibe  kids  a 

commodity  their  parents  can't  recognize. 

AS  A  subject  for  polemic  Elvis  Presley  has 
lew  peers,  and  too  many  people  have  ex- 
perienced sudden  shifts  in  blood  pressure  either 
up  or  down— for  him  to  be  regarded  as  any- 
thing hm  an  authentic  barometer  of  the  times. 
But,  even  now  that  he  has  been  on  the  national 
scene  for  more  than  two  years,  he  may  be  telling 
ns  mote  about  ourselves  than  we  would  care  to 
admit. 

Presley's  climb  to  lame,  in  the  winter  of  1955- 
56,  followed  upon  the  appearance  of  thai  rau- 
cous brand  of  popular  music,  primitive  and 
heavy-Tooled,  known  as  roc  k-and-roll.  I  Intone  lied 
by  subtlety,  rock-and-roll  seemed  to  signal  a 
total   collapse   in   popular  taste,    the   final   schism 

between  a  diminishing  group  sensitive  to  tradi- 
tion and  the  great  bulk  of  those  who  make  enter- 
tainment lo  sell.  Suddenly  there  was  Elvis,  no1 
merely  a  manifestation  of  rock-and-roll,  bui  of 
lascivious  gyrations  of  the  torso  thai  older  gen- 
erations cjuickly  recognized— the  classic  bump 
and  grind  ol    the  si  rip-leaser. 

Television  compounded  the  jeopardy:  Ml  vis 
could  come  lurching  into  any  living-room,  and 
he  did,  and   die  chorus  of  adolescent  shrieks  was 

swelled  by  shrieks  from  the  parents.    The  stomp- 


ing blatancy  of  "Blue  Suede  Shoes"  and  the  in- 
sinuations of  "I  Want  You,  I  Need  You,  I  Love 
You"  were  sufficiently  distressing,  but  the  loot- 
spread  stance  and  (he  unmistakable  thrust— well, 
"The  Pelvis"  was  going  too  far. 

He  went  too  far  in  every  direction.  Elvis  was 
making  millions  of  dollars,  owning  white  Con- 
tinental Mark  lis,  getting  into  fights  and  reviv- 
ing sideburns  and  being  prayed  over  and  build- 
ing a  bouse  lor  his  parents.  The  legend  should 
have  swallowed  him  out  of  sight,  but  il  was  all 
true— all,  furthermore,  palpably  American.  Me 
may  not  actually  have  arrived  lor  his  Army 
physical  in  a  Cadillac  with  a  Las  Vegas  show 
girl  and  announced  that  he  wanted  lo  be  Healed 
just  like  everyone  else— but  (he  story  was  pure 
Elvis.  Anyway,  the  gawky,  loose-limbed,  simple 
boy  from  Tupelo,  Mississippi,  was  a  genuine 
tabula  rasa,  on  which  the  American  populace 
could  keep  drawing  its  portrait,  real  and  imag- 
inary, and  keep  rubbing  it  out. 

Admonished  thai  there  were  those  who  found 
his  hip-swiveling  offensive,  Elvis  is  said  to  have 
replied,  "I  never  made  no  dirty  body  move- 
ments." And  this  is  believable;  Elvis  moves  as 
the  spirit  moves  him;  it  all  comes  naturally. 
Hormones  How  in  him  as  serenely  as  the  Missis- 
sippi past  Memphis,  and  the  offense  lies  in  the 
eye  of  the  beholder,  not  in  Elvis'  intentions. 

By  constantly  reminding  his  teen-age  listeners 
of  what  he  so  obviously  was— a  simple  boy  from 
Tupelo  who  had  suddenly  become  famous— 
Elvis  somehow  removed  the  sling  from  the  sex- 
uality   thai    could    easily    have    terrified    them. 

Valentino   had   lo   become  an   exotic    in   order   to 

keep  from  frightening  the  ladies  of  an  earliei  era 
with  his  own  heavy-lidded  gaze;  Elvis  could 
remain   the  boy  next   door,    lie  was  even  able  lo 

capitalize  on  his  innocence:  in  his  television  ap- 
pearances he  could  linel  himself  Hinging  a 
Svengali-like  finger  oui  toward  his  audience'  and, 
when  they  squealed,  he  couldn't  keep  from  gig- 
gling, lie  was  as  amused  as  they  were  by  his 
idiotic  power  lo  hypnotize  and,  although  the 
spell  was  on,  the  curse  was  oil. 

\\u[  Presley's  stunning  rapport  with  his  own 
generation  must  hinge  on  something  more 
than  the  ageless  call  of  the  wild.  Appealing 
lo  the  youthful  imagination  in  some  way  inscru- 
table to  the  parents  of  the  teen-agers  who  wor- 
ship him,  Elvis  fills  some  kind  of  need  thai  the 
older  generation  can't  fathom,  and  more  signili- 
eanlly,  doesn't  feel.  Why?  Perhaps  because  they 
have  run  oui  of  dreams. 

Parents  for  whom  the  introduction  ol  tele- 
vision in  the  late  'forties  begat   the  era  of  the 


46 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


great  giveaway  need  no  dreams— they  are  already 
li\  ing  one.  Ranch-style  homes,  organization-man 
jobs,  and  exalted  community  status  have  outrun 
whatever  hopes  they  brought  from  a  meager 
past,  and  adults  are  too  delightedly  clutching 
these  tangible  evidences  of  a  dream-come-true 
to  bother  projecting  a  more  fanciful  one.  Their 
small ly-executed  station-wagon  psyches,  jauntily 
upholstered  and  gleamingly  trimmed;  leave  no 
room  for  excrescences  and  irrelevancies.  But 
their  offspring,  a  generation  of  poor  little  rich 
children,  whom  no  part  of  the  postwar  bonanza 
has  the  power  to  enthrall,  remain  desperately 
in  need  of  an  enchanter. 


THE     MYSTERIOUS     SOUTH 

TO  MEET  this  historic  contingency  Elvis 
is  blessed  not  only  with  sex  but  with 
authentic  Southci  nncss.  His  prim  it  i  \  ism  carries 
conviction;  when  he  intones  the  monotonous 
phrases  of  "I  Got  a  Woman,"  Southern  medium 
espouses  Southern  temperament.  The  range  of 
verbal  expression  is  precisely  as  limited  and  as 
colorful  as  we  feel  Elvis'  own  vocabulary  must 
be.  The  voice,  on  the  other  hand,  insisting  on 
the  subtlest  of  shifts  in  mood  and  timing,  sug- 
gests that  the  man  from  whom  it  issues  is,  like 
his  music,  elusive. 

The  sum  of  Presley's  qualities  matches  the 
national  image  of  the  Southland.  For  the  South 
today  popularly  represents  what  the  West  once 
did:  the  self-sufficient,  the  inaccessible,  the 
fiercely  independent  soul  of  the  nation.  With 
i he  taming  of  the  West  completed,  only  the  deep 
South  retains  a  comparable  aura  of  mystery,  of 
romantic  removal  from  the  concerns  of  a  steadily 
urbanized  and  cosmopolized  America. 

The  removal  is  two-fold:  it  combines  an  in- 
difference to  grammatical  niceties,  which  the  rest 
of  the  country  benightedly  associates  with 
"civilization,"  with  an  old  confidence  in  the 
private,  intuitive  vision.  The  rationalism  of  the 
"progressive"  sections  of  the  nation  has  always 
seemed  to  the  Southerner  inadequate  to  pene- 
trate the  darker  corners  of  his  experience,  and 
these  components  of  the  Southern  mind  are 
central  to  a  Presley  performance. 

The  adolescent  is  far  more  responsive  to  them 
than  his  parents  could  be.  In  the  backwoods 
heterodoxies  of  Elvis  he  recognizes  a  counter- 
pan  to  his  own  instinctive  rebellion.  And  when 
Elvis  confesses  that  he's  "Gonna  Sit  Right  Down 
and  Cay,"  the  accents  of  lament  are  fell  as 
genuine;  there's  none  of  the  artifice  of  the  torch- 
singer  in  his  wail.    Elvis  is  for  real,  and  in  his 


voice  the  teen-ager  hears  intimations  of  a  world 
heavily  weighted  with  real  emotion. 

Most  real  emotions,  the  teen-ager  knows  with- 
out coaching,  are  daily  discredited  by  his  parents 
and  teachers.  Their  own  equably  democratic 
temperaments  and  cheerfully  enlightened  code 
of  behavioi  seem  to  deny  the  world  that  Elvis 
affirms.  And  the  teen-ager,  when  he  pounds  con- 
vulsively at  the  sight  and  sound  of  Elvis,  is 
pounding  for  entrance  into  that  more  enticing 
realm. 

He  is  pounding  his  feet,  however:  ultimately 
the  music  Elvis  makes  must  be  given  some  credit 
for  his  popularity.  And  there  is  probably  an 
ugly,  awesome  little  truth  in  the  deduction  that 
he  is  prodigiously  gifted.  To  those  attentive  to 
the  music  itself  the  most  conspicuous  feature  of 
Elvis'  singing  is  the  versatility  with  which  he 
exploits  the  tradition  of  the  Negro  "blues- 
shouter."  He  can  shift  without  apparent  strain 
from  the  blasting  stridency  of  "Hound  Dog"  to 
the  saccharine  ooze  of  "111  Never  Let  You  Go," 
covering,  when  called  upon,  every  transitional 
pose  between:  the  choke-and-groan  of  "Love 
Me,"  the  plaintive  nasal  whine  of  "How's  the 
World  Treating  You,"  the  gravel-throated  bel- 
low of  "Long  Tall  Sally,"  or  the  throb-and- 
tremolo  of  "1  Got  a  Woman." 

Vocal  pyrotechnics  he  has  indeed  (to  what  must 
be  the  everlasting  despair  of  his  imitators),  but 
they  would  remain  merely  curiosities  were  he  not 
able  to  manipulate  them  into  an  organic  whole. 
His  twisting  of  a  tonal  quality  possesses  a 
diabolical  inevitability,  and  his  phrasing  is  as' 
flawless  as  it  is  intricate.  Marianne  Moore's  com- 
ment about  e.  e.  cummings— "He  does  not  make 
aesthetic  mistakes"— might  with  only  brief  hesi- 
tation be  applied  to  Elvis  Presley.  Elvis  has  got 
the  beat,  and  "Don't  Be  Cruel"  will  bear  scrutiny 
by  any  but  the  most  outraged  of  his  captious 
audience. 


LAUGHING    AT    US 

BU  T  there  is  in  Presley's  delivery  something 
much  more  subtle  and  hard  to  get  at.  From 
some  fathomless  and  unstudied  depth  he  has 
managed,  in  a  whole  series  of  songs,  to  call  forth 
irony.  Elvis  is  laughing  at  us,  and  at  himself, 
without  knowing  it,  and  while  remaining  alto- 
gether serious.  The  throbbing  sentimentality  is 
at  once  wholly  fake  and  sterling  pure;  listen  for 
it  in  "I'm  Counting  on  You,"  or  "Tryin'  to 
Get  to  You."  And  so  is  the  pompousness  of 
"One-Sided  Love  Affair"  and  the  mawkishness 
of  "Old  Shep."    In  his  interpretation   of   these 


A     REFUSAL     TO     MOURN,     ETC 


47 


songs  there  are  ambiguities  that  are  surely  unsus- 
pected even  by  such  an  uninhibited  and  highly 
sophisticated  primitive  as  Elvis  himself. 

This  neither-fish-npr-fowl  quality  can  be  a 
frightening  thing  to  adults,  who  suppose  that 
they  have  fully  identified  themselves  in  an  identi- 
fiable environment.  But  to  adolescents,  who 
detest  above  all  the  status  quo— who  want  the 
world  to  be  so  limitless  in  its  potentials  that  they 
cannot  fail  to  find  their  changeling  selves  some- 
how secure  within  it— to  them  it  is  the  throbbing 
substance  of  life  itself.  And  when  combined  with 
the  frenetic  pulsations,  the  hectic,  nervous 
quiverings  of  rock-and-roll,  the  rhythms  of  their 
own  vacillations,  it  is  enough  to  make  Elvis  a 
millionaire. 

Whither  Presley?  When  his  present  public 
finds  itself,  as  it  someday  must,  demesmerized  by 
time,  and  when  the  mage-like  fascination  of  Elvis 
gives  way  to  some  new  and  less  inspired  teen-age 
melodrama,  what's  to  become  of  this  young  man 


whose  life  and  legend  are  by  now  indistinguish- 
able? 

Will  Elvis  himself  be  able  to  salvage  a  per- 
sonality from  among  the  accumulated  debris  of 
prolonged  public  exposure?  Will  he  choose  one 
of  several  paths  systematically  trodden  by  the 
once  great:  lucratively  "advising"  the  producers 
of  "The  Elvis  Presley  Story,"  lecturing  across 
the  country  on  the  prevention  of  juvenile  de- 
linquency, opening  with  moderate  hoopla  a 
restaurant  in  Atlantic  City,  appointing  a  re- 
spectable hack  to  ghost  his  memoirs,  or  posing 
rakishly  for  a   Chesterfield   ad? 

Some  indication  that  Elvis  has  a  notion  of  the 
responsibility  of  his  mission  is  his  plan  for  a 
fifteen-acre  Elvis  Presley  Youth  Foundation  in 
Tupelo,  reported  in  Time.  How  far  this  project 
may  go  is  uncertain,  but  if  it  takes  him  back  to 
Mississippi  for  spiritual  recuperation  from  time 
to  time,  it  will  be  both  good  for  him  and  for  the 
youth  who  want  him,  need  him,  and  love  him. 


LLOYD  FRANKENBERG 


A  REFUSAL  TO   MOURN,  ETC. 


how  the  backhanders  geese  of  you, 
Each  with  a  bloody  piece  of  you 

Snagged  from  their  lion's  feast. 

God  but  you'd  laugh  to  hear  of  i$ 
You  that  would  not  steer  clear  of  it, 
You  that  could  charm  the  beast. 

Propping  him  up  to  mock  awhile 
Lachryma  Christi  Crocodile 
In  his  penatal  lare. 

Lover  of  ale  and  venery, 
Tales  of  the  jailed  O.  Henry, 

Rarebitten  hound  of  the  hare, 

Everyone  owns  a  share  in  you. 
If  it's  a  he,  he'll  air  a  new 
Gospel  ol  thick-as- thieves 

Making  a  propel   toast  of  you. 
If  it's  a  she,  she'll  boast  of  you 
Adam  beneath  her  eaves. 

Hear  them  retail  your  Iliad 
Scattering  bombs  in  Gilead, 

Toppling  the  weights  of  Troy; 

Gossip  of  tidbit  bodicey 
On  your  immodest  Odyssey. 
You  were  the  wicked  boy, 


Roisterous,  roaring,  rantical 
Under  the  soaring  canticle, 
Under  the  tragic  breath; 

Lusty  indeed  and  verbally, 
Master  of  all  hyperbole 

Whether  of  joy  or  death. 

Once  on  a  snarling  boulevard, 
Bristling  and  jostling,  full  of  hard 

Rooters,  you  gripped  my  arm- 
People,  aren't  people  beautiful? 
I  was  the  meanest  brute  of  all. 

Truth  was  a  Circe's  charm. 

Would  that  an  untruth  did  as  he 
Would  that  unhelled  Eurydice 
Back  to  the  shades  of  day 

Till— was  it  doubt,  disaster  or 
Love?— was  his  overmastered 
Turned  him  the  other  way 

There,  where  the  echoes  come  to  us, 
Magical,  haunted,  sumptuous, 
Spun  with  a  seethe  of  fire 

Nessus-reversed  to  smother  death. 
After  the  first,  no  other  death. 
Air  is  their  chiming  choir. 


The  second  of  three  articles  by 
RALPH   E.    LAPP 

Drawings  by  Ben  Shahn 


The  Voyage  of  the  Lucky  Dragon 


The  twenty-three  fishermen  didn't  realize 

what  had  happened  to  them — and  had  no  idea 

that  their  homecoming  would  touch  off  an 

uproar  which  would  echo  around  the  world. 


AT  5:30  a.m.  on  Sunday,  March  14,  1954, 
the  Japanese  fishing  vessel  Fukuryu  Maru 
(Lucky  Dragon)  No.  5  returned  to  its  home  port 
of  Yaizu,  some  120  miles  south  of  Tokyo.  Its 
crew  had  been  fishing  for  tuna  near  the  Marshall 
Islands  and  had  seen  the  flash  of  an  American 
atomic  bomb  test;  shortly  afterward  a  rain  of 
white  ash  had  fallen  on  the  ship.  During  their 
return  trip  the  men  had  been  listless  and  debili- 
tated; some  complained  of  burning  eyes,  itching 
skin,  and  nausea;  others  were  losing  their  hair. 
The  owner,  Kakuichi  Nishikawa,  glanced  at  one 
of  the  sailors  when  the  boat  tied  to  the  pier  and 
noticed  that  he  was  terribly  dark,  as  though 
deeply  sunburned. 

Nishikawa  and  Yoshio  Misaki,  the  ship's  Fish- 
ing Master,  immediately  called  the  Yaizu  hos- 
pital, but  it  was  Sunday  and  the  woman  who 
answered  told  Misaki  that  they  could  accept  only 
emergency  cases.  It  was  not  until  he  managed 
to  locate  Dr.  Ooi,  the  doctor  in  charge,  that 
Misaki  could  arrange  for  the  men  to  come  to  the 
hospital  at  1:00  p.m.  Dr.  Ooi  was  a  surgeon,  who 
felt  that  routine  physical  checkups  were  not  in 


his  bailiwick,  and  at  first  he  could  make  no  sense 
of  the  men's  appearance.  Though  their  faces 
were  dark,  they  seemed  in  good  spirits.  Sanjiro 
Masuda,  who  looked  the  worst,  was  severely 
burned  on  the  face,  ears,  and  lips,  and  there 
were  three  or  four  blisters  on  his  left  hand. 
"What's  this  all  about?"  asked  Dr.  Ooi.  "What's 
the  matter  with  all  of  you?" 

Fearful  of  authority  in  any  form,  the  fisher- 
men were  at  first  reluctant  to  say.  Finally  one 
of  them  confessed  that  they  had  encountered 
what  they  thought  was  an  A-bomb  explosion. 
But  when  Dr.  Ooi  asked  them  how  bright  the 
flash  had  been,  or  whether  they  had  seen  the 
mushroom  cloud,  their  answers  still  puzzled  him. 
Since  Misaki  said  that  the  light  had  not  been 
blinding,  they  must  have  been  a  safe  distance 
away;  indeed,  if  they  hadn't  been,  some  of  them 
should  already  have  died.  The  men  did  not  seem 
seriously  ill;  their  blood  counts  ran  from  5,000 
to  9,000  white  cells  per  cubic  centimeter— not  an 
alarming  decrease.  Dr.  Ooi  wavered,  doubting 
and  believing  what   their  symptoms  were. 

Five  of  the  patients  with  bad  skin  burns  he 
treated  with  palliative  ointment,  a  white  paste 
that  contrasted  strangely  with  their  brown-black 
faces.  Since  there  was  no  Geiger  counter  in  the 
hospital,  and  since  he  could  not  diagnose  radia- 
tion sickness  with  any  confidence,  Dr.  Ooi  was 
not  unduly  alarmed  over  their  condition.  "Come 
again  tomorrow  and  let's  have  an  examination 

©  1957   by  Ralph  E.  Lapp 


THE     VOYAGE     OF     THE     LUCKY     DRAGON 


49 


with  all  the  doctors,"  he  said,  and  sent  them  on 
their  way,  greatly  relieved. 

But  Misaki  brooded  over  the  condition  of  the 
crew  and,  after  talking  with  Nishikawa,  came 
back  to  the  hospital  later  in  the  afternoon.  He 
asked  Dr.  Ooi  to  send  two  of  the  men  to  Tokyo 
for  expert  consultation  and  to  write  a  "letter 
of  favor"  for  them  to  someone  at  the  University 
Hospital.  Dr.  Ooi,  though  somewhat  miffed  at 
this  "rude  request,"  consented.  The  men  he 
picked  were  Masuda,  because  of  his  heavy  burns, 
and  the  engineer,  Tadashi  Yamamoto,  because 
of  his  low  blood  count.   Dr.  Ooi  wrote: 

The  above-mentioned  persons,  during  fish- 
ing at  Bikini  Lagoon  area,  seemed  to  have 
been  taken  with  radiation  sickness  [Genbaku- 
sho]  on  March  1.  They  are  supposed  to  be 
suffering  from  atomic  cloud  of  H-bomb.  I 
humbly  beg  your  honorable  consultation.  .  .  . 

Later  Dr.  Ooi  said  that  he  had  used  the  term 
"H-bomb"  because  he  had  read  about  it  in  the 
newspapers  and  could  not  conceive  of  an  A-bomb 
hurting  anyone  so  far  away.  He  also  hoped  that 
such  a  "big  word"  might  impress  the  Tokyo  doc- 
tors who  sometimes  pay  so  little  attention  to  the 
diagnoses  of  their  rural  colleagues. 

One  member  of  the  crew  had  not  been  at  the 
hospital.  After  the  Lucky  Dragon  docked,  the 
radioman,  Aikichi  Kuboyama,  feeling  shy  about 
his  appearance,  had  gone  home  by  a  back  road 
to  avoid  meeting  anyone.  And,  instead  of  going 
in  the  front  door  as  he  usually  did,  he  went 
around  to  the  back  of  his  house.  "Okaeri-nasai 
[welcome  home],"  his  wife  called  out.  "You  must 
be  very  tired."  But  his  eldest  daughter  Miyako, 
when  she  saw  him,  said:  "Otoo-chan  [papa]  looks 
like  a  Negro.  Look  at  his  face,  how  black  he  is!" 

Kuboyama  told  his  wife  that  he  did  not  know 
exactly  what  had  happened.  "On  the  way  home 
we  encountered  something—  Gen-baku  [A-bomb], 
I  think."  She  looked  alarmed  and  he  went  on, 
trying  to  quiet  her,  "We  saw  the  blast,  but  don't 
worry— we  were  only  covered  with  ash.  I  will  be 
well  soon."  And  that  same  day  he  went  back  to 
the  Lucky  Dragon  to  repair  the  radio  equipment 
for  the  next  voyage.  It  was  not  until  the  day 
after,  when  one  of  his  crew-mates  said  he  had  a 
low  blood  count  and  had  been  told  to  rest  for 
two  months,  that  Kuboyama  presented  himself 
to  the  doctors.  They  gave  him  some  white  oint- 
ment for  his  burns  and  told  him  that  his  blood 
count  was  7,200.  "It's  just  an  ordinary  burn," 
he  told  his  wife.   "There's  no  need  to  worry." 

Masuda  and  Yamamoto,  the  next  day,  caught 
the  early-morning  train  to  Tokyo.   In  the  wash- 


room of  the  third-class  coach,  they  looked  at  their 
faces  in  the  mirror  and  were  startled  to  see  how 
dusky  and  unkempt  they  looked.  They  had  not 
shaved  and  Masuda,  in  particular,  looked  quite 
wild,  with  his  hair  seeming  to  stand  out  stiffly 
from  his  head.  He  huddled  up  in  his  seat  in  the 
car  and  kept  silent,  glancing  sidewise  occa- 
sionally to  see  if  people  were  looking  at  him. 

Tokyo  University  Hospital,  when  they  reached 
it,  looked  enormous  to  the  two  men.  Dimly  lit 
corridors  surfaced  with  a  dark  linoleum  of 
ancient  vintage  gave  it  a  depressing  atmosphere. 
Yamamoto,  acting  as  spokesman  for  the  pair, 
presented  his  letter  to  the  receptionist  and  after 
some  misunderstanding  with  the  rather  officious 
clerk,  they  were  directed  to  Dr.  Shimizu's  Depart- 
ment of  Surgery  on  the  third  floor.  Yamamoto, 
who  was  still  clutching  a  sample  of  the  ash  that 
had  fallen  on  them,  showed  it  to  the  doctor,  who 
ordered  his  assistant  to  bring  him  a  Geigef 
counter  at  once.  However,  it  turned  out  that  the 
instrument  was  in  use  and  Shimizu  turned  his 
full  attention  to  Masuda,  paying  careful  atten- 
tion to  his  ears  and  the  thick  yellowish  discharge 
that  came  from  them.  The  man  was  in  worse 
shape  than  Yamamoto,  and  Dr.  Shimizu  asked 
him:  "Will  you,  at  any  rate,  enter  the  hospital 
for  a  week?"  Sleepy-eyed  Masuda  nodded  that  he 
would  and  the  doctor,  after  giving  orders  for 
him  to  be  registered  as  an  in-patient,  left  the 
room.  It  was  after  1:00  p.m.  when  the  two  sea- 
men left  the  hospital.  Masuda  went  with  his  com- 
panion to  see  if  they  could  find  a  bite  to  eat. 
Afterward  Yamamoto  went  directly  to  the  sta- 
tion, and  caught  an  express  back  to  Yaizu. 

Later  that  same  evening,  about  seven  o'clock, 
Yamamoto  went  to  see  the  boss,  Nishikawa-5rt>2. 
He  told  him  that  the  doctor  had  said  there  was 
nothing  to  worry  about  but  had  asked  them  to 
stay  in  the  hospital  for  a  week.  "Is  it  all  right?" 
asked  the  engineer. 

"Sure,  sure,"  replied  Nishikawa. 

Thus  the  second  day  passed  after  the  arrival 
of  the  Lucky  Dragon  in  port  and  not  a  word 
about  it  had  appeared  in  the  press. 

THE     STORY    BREAKS 

HA  D  there  been  a  daily  newspaper  in 
Yaizu,  the  story  of  the  Lucky  Dragon 
might  have  broken  quickly.  As  it  was,  the  news 
was  delayed— and  then  splashed  over  page  one  of 
a  leading  Tokyo  paper.  This  is  the  story  behind 
the  story. 

Early  in  1954,  the  Yorniuri  Shimbun,  one  of 
the  three  largest  Japanese  newspapers,  featured 


50 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


a  series  of  articles  on  atomic  energy.  Keiji 
Kobayaslii,  a  nineteen-year-old  student  in  his 
second  year  at  the  Shizuoka  Prefecture  Technical 
High  School,  had  been  fascinated  by  them.  He 
felt  a  kind  of  personal  interest  in  the  Yomiuri 
newspaper,  since  a  part-time  "leg-man"  for  it 
was  living  as  a  boarder  in  his  home.  Mitsuyoshi 
Abe  often  talked  with  members  of  the  Kobayaslii 
family  about  the  value  of  getting  an  exclusive 
story.  Scoops  are  hard  to  come  by  in  Japan, 
where  the  newspapers  employ  armies  of  re- 
porters, probational  reporters,  and  part-time  leg- 
men. The  Asa  hi  Shimbun  (Morning  Sim)  alone 
employs  fifteen  hundred  reporters. 

Relatives  of  the  family  came  to  visit  the 
Kobayashis  in  the  afternoon  on  March  15,  and 
one  of  them  mentioned  what  he  had  heard  from 
men  of  the/  Lucky  Dragon.  At  dinner  that  eve- 
ning young  Kobayaslii  learned  about  it  from  his 
mother.  He  remembered  saving  newspaper  clip- 
pings about  something  that  had  happened  on 
March  1.  He  dug  through  them  and  found  an 
announcement  of  the  H-bomb  test.  Then,  think- 
ing of  his  reporter  friend,  he  urged  his  mother  to 
tell  Abe-san  as  quickly  as  possible.  Abe  was  not 
in  town,  however,  for  he  had  gone  to  the  nearby 
town  of  Shimada  to  cover  the  killing  of  a  child. 

Mrs.  Kobayaslii  placed  a  long-distance  call  to 
Abe-san  but  could  not  reach  him   until  it  was 


nearly  dark.  As  she  spilled  out  the  story  ol  the 
Lucky  Dragon,  Abe  interrupted:  "What?  Mv 
father  is  coming  to  Yai/u?  I'll  be  home  right 
away."  The  quick-witted  reporter  knew  that 
unless  he  gave  some  plausible  reason  for  hurry- 
ing away  the  other  reporters  would  get  wise  to 
his  story.  As  it  was,  they  laughed  at  Abe.  They 
knew  that  his  father,  a  Buddhist  priest  from  a 
famous  spa  about  fifty  miles  north  of  Yai/u,  had 
sent  him  money  to  buy  a  press  camera  and  that 
the  money  had  been  squandered  on  sake. 

Shortly  after  7:00  p.m.  Abe  was  in  Yai/u,  and 
by  7:28  he  called  the  Shizuoka  office  of  the 
Yomiuri  Shimbun.  Abe-san  filed  a  brief  story, 
apparently  not  fully  aware  of  its  news  value. 
He  spelled  Bikini  as  Biknik.  But  the  editor  on 
night  duty  for  the  Yomiuri  was  Yoshi  Tsujiimoto, 
the  very  man  who  edited  the  atomic  energy 
scries  which  had  so  interested  young  Kobayaslii. 
When  the  news  came  in  from  Shizuoka,  the 
editor  knew  a  big  story  was  in  the  making  and 
he  swung  into  action. 

It  happened  that  a  reporter  by  the  name  of 
Murao  was  on  duty.  He  had  been  on  a  round- 
the-world  tour  and  had  co-operated  on  the  series 
of  atomic  articles.  He  was  hurriedly  summoned. 
Tsujiimoto  barked  out  details.  A  boat  had  been 
near  Bikini  .  .  .  the  crew  had  been  covered  with 
ash  .  .  .  the  men  were  burned  .  .  .  two  crewmen 
had  come  to  Tokyo  that  day  ...  it  was  a  big  story 
...  go  to  Tokyo  University  at  once! 

Reporter  Murao  wasted  no  time.  He  picked 
up  a  police-beat  man  and  a  photographer  and 
they  raced  to  the  hospital.  When  the  Yomiuri 
car  pulled  up  in  front  of  the  hospital,  Murao's 
heart  sank— there  in  front  of  the  building  was  a 
sedan  with  the  flag  of  the  Asahi  Shimbun  at- 
tached to  the  left  front  fender.  An  optimist  at 
heart,  Murao  hoped  that  the  Asahi  reporter 
might  be  there  on  other  business.  This  he  found 
to  be  the  case.  He  asked  the  receptionist:  "Did 
patients  with  atomic  sickness  come  here  today?" 

"Yes,  they  were  here  today,"  replied  the  girl. 

Murao  was  much  relieved  and  thought  that 
his  job  would  be  an  easy  one.  But  it  turned  out 
that  these  were  patients,  from  Hiroshima.  The 
girl  knew  nothing  of  any  fishermen  suffering 
from  atomic  sickness.  The  persistent  reporter 
systematically  telephoned  each  section  of  the 
hospital.  He  got  a  lucky  break  when  he  found 
an  intern  who  recalled  seeing  a  patient  with  a 
"burned-black  face"  but  he  could  not  recall  the 
patient's  name  or  room  number.  The  nurse  in 
charge  of  night  duty  denied  that  any  patients 
from  Yai/u  had  been  there  that  day,  but  they 
cajoled  her  into  showing  them  the  list.    There 


THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  LUCKY  DRAGON 


51 


was  the  entry:  "Sanjiro  Masuda,  29,  Yaizu, 
Shizuoka  Prefecture."  Then  she  admitted  that 
Masuda  was  in  the  hospital  and  that  Yamamoto, 
the  other  patient,  had  returned  to  Yaizu.  Masuda 
was  sleeping,  however,  and  could  not  be  dis- 
turbed. When  they  pleaded  with  her  she  sum- 
moned reinforcements— the  doctor  on  duty.  He 
was  also  adamant.  Murao  slipped  out  of  the 
room,  determined  not  to  be  put  off  by  such  resis- 
tance. He  went  from  ward  to  ward,  calling  softly, 
"Masuda-san,"  and  adding,  "man  from  Yaizu." 
At  last,  a  patient  reacted. 

"Yaizu?"  he  said.  "Yes,  there's  a  man  in  the 
next  room  who's  suffering  from  atomic  sickness." 

His  heart  pounding  like  a  hunter  who  has 
sighted  big  game,  the  reporter  slipped  around 
the  corner  and  very  quietly  tiptoed  into  Room  5. 
One  of  the  two  beds  was  occupied.  The  white 
walls  reflected  light  on  the  patient,  who  was 
curled  up  on  his  side.  His  face  was  black  and 
his  ears  were  smeared  with  white  ointment.  He 
looked  like  something  from  another  world, 
thought  Murao,  and  but  for  his  story  he  would 
have  fled.  Gathering  courage,  the  reporter  shook 
the  sleeping  man  to  wake  him.  Masuda  opened 
his  eyes  in  surprise  and  sat  up.  The  reporter  was 
astonished  at  the  sight  of  his  swollen  hands  but 
he  scribbled  down  the  story  Masuda  told  him. 

At  Yaizu,  Abe-san  had  been  ordered  to  inter- 
view the  crewmen  and  to  get  photographs  at 
once.  Now  he  desperately  regretted  having  spent 
his  father's  money  on  sake,  for  he  had  no  camera. 
He  rushed  to  the  home  of  a  friend,  a  professional 
photographer,  and  woke  him  up.  The  two  men 
then  hurried  to  the  dock  to  photograph  the 
fishing  boat  and  the  crew. 

It  was  dark  on  the  pier  and  they  found  the 
boat  tied  up,  looking  rather  forlorn  and  deserted. 
The  photographer  took  several  flash-bulb  shots 
and  Abe-san  hailed  the  ship.  A  lone  sailor  came 
on  deck  and  told  them  that  all  the  others  were 
in  town.  Some  had  gone  home,  some  were  drink- 
ing, and  the  others— well,  they  were  young  and 
had  been  at  sea  for  a  long  time.  The  reporter 
knew  the  drinking  spots  in  town  all  too  well, 
and  he  soon  found  some  of  the  dark-faced  crew. 
They  were  reluctant  to  talk,  however,  for  they 
feared  that  they  would  be  summoned  before 
authorities.  Abe-san  hunted  up  Yamamoto  and 
woke  him  from  a  sound  sleep.  He  also  routed 
Dr.  Ooi  from  bed  and  questioned  him  about  the 
fishermen. 

At  the  night  desk  of  the  Yomiuri  they  knew 
they  had  a  big  story— but  would  it  hold?  If  they 
broke  it  in  an  early  edition,  say,  the  one  going  to 
cities  in  western  Japan,  then  the  Asahi  and  the 


Mainichi,  their  two  rivals,  would  pirate  the  story 
and  run  it  in  tomorrow's  Tokyo  editions.  It  was 
a  touch-and-go  decision  for  the  Yomiuri.  The 
editor  decided  to  hold  for  the  ninth  edition  and 
gamble  on  a  real  scoop. 

Successive  editions  of  the  Yomiuri  rolled  off 
the  presses  without  a  mention  of  the  Lucky 
Dragon.  Each  rival  edition  of  the  Asahi  and  the 
Mainichi  was  rushed  to  the  Yomiuri  office  as  fast 
as  it  could  be  snatched  up.  Each  time  a  new 
edition  hit  the  desk,  the  editor  and  his  staff 
breathed  a  sigh  of  relief.  Their  big  story  was 
still  safe. 

On  the  morning  of  Tuesday,  March  16,  when 
rival  papers  could  no  longer  change  their 
morning  editions,  the  Yomiuri  spread  its  head- 
line across  the  front  page: 

JAPANESE    FISHERMEN    ENCOUNTERED 
ATOMIC  BOMB  TEST  AT  BIKINI 

23  Men  Suffering  From  Atomic  Disease 

One  Diagnosed  Serious  by  Tokyo 

University  Hospital 

H-BOMB? 

The  story  was  out  at  last. 

The  morning  of  March  16,  some  of  the  seamen 
from  the  Lucky  Dragon  knocked  off  from  their 
chores  aboard  ship  and  sauntered  down  the 
pier  for  a  walk.  They  observed  a  small  crowd  of 
people  gathered  around  an  electric  lamp  pole, 
reading  a  newspaper  tacked  up  on  it.  Edging 
in  closer  the  crewmen  from  the  Lucky  Dragon 
were  surprised  to  see  that  they  were  in  the  head- 
lines. They  had  no  idea  that  what  happened  to 
them  on  March  1  would  be  of  such  significance. 

If  they  had  any  doubts  these  were  soon  settled 
by  the  swarm  of  reporters,  photographers,  tele- 
vision cameramen,  and  their  assistants  who 
descended  upon  the  pier.  The  decks  of  the 
Lucky  Dragon  were  soon  crowded  to  overflowing. 

The  first  scientist  to  arrive  at  the  scene  was 


52 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


Professor  Takanobu  Shiokawa  from  Shizuoka. 
He  had  been  at  his  laboratory  that  morning  in 
the  Chemistry  Department  of  the  University  of 
Shizuoka  when  he  received  a  call  from  the  Pre- 
fectural  Sanitary  Division.  He  was  given  a  few 
brief  details,  supplementing  those  lie  had  read 
in  the  newspaper,  and  was  asked  to  go  to  Yaizu 
and  check  for  radioactivity. 

Although  the  University  of  Shizuoka  is  not 
very  pretentious,  it  does  have  a  well-staffed 
science  department  equipped  with  modern  de- 
vices for  the  measurement  of  radioactivity.  Dr. 
Shiokawa  and  his  assistant  hurriedly  gathered 
up  some  radiation  meters  and  other  instruments 
and  then,  together  with  a  high  pretectural  official, 
they  drove  over  the  winding  road  to  Yaizu.  After 
meeting  with  city  officials  they  drove  directly  to 
the  hospital  and  consulted  with  Dr.  Ooi.  Two 
crewmen  from  the  Lucky  Dragon  were  already  at 
the  hospital  and,  at  Dr.  Ooi's  request,  the 
scientist  inspected  the  men  for  traces  of  radio- 
activity. 

Dr.  Shiokawa  flipped  the  "ON"  switch  of  the 
Geiger  counter  and  waited  lor  a  moment  for 
the  instrument  to  warm  up.  When  it  was  operat- 
ing properly,  Dr.  Shiokawa  brought  it  near  one 
of  the  crewmen.  The  instrument  dial  wavered 
as  he  brought  the  counter  closer  to  the  sailor, 
who  by  this  time  had  taken  a  close  interest  in 
what  was  going  on.  Being  so  slight  in  stature, 
the  professor  stood  on  tiptoe  and  brought  the 
counter  near  the  crewman's  head.  The  needle 
swung  over  toward  the  end  of  the  scale!  The 
man  was  radioactive! 

If  the  men  themselves  were  radioactive,  what 
must  the  boat  be  like?  Hurrying  to  the  dock,  the 
survey  party  found  the  Lucky  Dragon  tied  up 
with  fishing  boats  moored  on  either  side.  It  was 
crawling  with  newsmen,  photographing  the  boat 
and  the  crew  from  every  angle.   Small  clusters  of 


reporters  crowded  around  members  ol  die  crew, 

sicking  additional  news  angles.  There  was  a 
great  hubbub,  added  to  by  the  din  and  com- 
motion of  carpenters  who  were  making  some 
repairs.  When  they  were  still  a  hundred  feet 
from  the  boat,  Dr.  Shiokawa's  sensitive  Geiger 
countei  stalled  clicking  ai  an  accelerated  beat. 
The  Lucky  Dragon  was  indeed  radioactive! 

Before  going  aboard.  Dr.  Shiokawa  carefully 
checked  a  little  instrumenl  about  the  size  ol  a 
fountain  pen.  Il  was  a  pocket  meter  lor  adding 
up  the  amount  of  radiation  lie  would  receive 
aboard  the  boat.  Then  he  (limbed  aboard, 
wedging  his  slender  body  between  the  massed 
humanity  on  deck.  He  was  astonished  at  the 
way  the  survey  instrument  needle  flipped  over  to 
the  far  side  ol  the  scale.  Never  before  had  lie 
encountered  radioactivity  like  this. 

The  technical  measurement  ol  radiation  in- 
volves a  considerable  knowledge  of  physics,  but 
it  (an  be  understood  quite  easily  on  a  compara- 
tive scale.  We  can  set  up  a  yardstick,  putting  at 
the  top  the  amount  ol  radiation  (in  number  of 
roentgens)  required  to  produce  death  in  an  indi- 
vidual, il  exposed  all  over  the  body.  In  general, 
the  death  range  is  from  300  to  700  roentgens, 
although  most  people  would  average  out  in  the 
400  to  500  bracket.  The  least  amount  of  radia- 
tion which  produces  an  immediately  detectable 
effect  in  the  human  body  is  about  25  roentgens. 

It  should  be  emphasized  that  these  figures  are 
lor  total  doses.  The  readings  which  Dr.  Shiokawa 
recorded  on  the  decks  of  the  Lucky  Dragon 
were  of  the  dose  rate— that  is,  the  amount  of 
radiation  per  hour.  As  he  walked  around  the 
crowded  decks,  he  found  that  the  main  deck 
gave  a  reading  of  about  25  millirqentgens  per 
hour.  Working  forward  to  the  prow  of  the  ship, 
he  found  il  was  half  that  value  and,  picking  his 
way  to  the  stern,  he  observed  it  was  several  times 
more  radioactive.  He  ducked  into  the  rear  crew 
compartment,  and  found  that  holding  the  Geiger 
counter  up  to  the  ceiling  gave  a  reading  of  one- 
tenth  roentgen  per  hour.  Lowering  it  down  to 
the  bunk,  he  noted  that  the  needle  dropped 
down  on  the  scale  and  went  lower  as  he  shifted 
the  instrument  to  the  lower  bunk.  It  was  obvious 
that  the  main  source  of  the  radioactivity  was  com- 
ing from  above,  so  he  climbed  up  on  the  roof  of 
the  crew  space  and  found  that  the  instrument 
gave  a  considerably  higher  reading.  Coils  of 
rope  and  buoys  were  stacked  on  the  rool  and 
the  scientist  soon  discovered  that  these  were 
extremely  radioactive.  All  during  their  long 
voyage  home  the  men  in  the  after  cabin  had  been 
sleeping   under  an  intense  source  of  radiation. 


THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  LUCKY  DRAGON 


53 


The  news  that  they  were  radioactive  hit  the 
seamen  slowly.  True,  they  were  horrified  when 
the  Geiger  counters  spluttered  and  the  instru- 
ments' needles  flipped  across  the  scale.  Looking 
at  the  scientists  and  seeing  their  surprise,  the 
crewmen  knew  that  something  most  unusual  was 
happening.  But  it  was  as  though  they  had  been 
told  they  had  a  rare  and  strange  disease;  they 
did  not  really  react  until  others  around  them 
reacted. 

An  official  of  the  Shizuoka  Prefecture  told 
some  of  the  crewmen:  "As  a  result  of  investiga- 
tions with  the  Geiger  counter,  we  find  that  your 
hair,  nails,  and  the  hull  of  the  ship  have  a  con- 
siderable amount  of  radiation.  If  left  alone  as  it 
is,  it  will  surely  kill  you.  We  are  of  the  opinion 
that  you  should  pack  your  clothes  and  have 
them  sent  to  the  Prefecture.  We  are  also  of  the 
opinion  that  you  should  leave  the  ship."  Five 
of  the  crewmen  agreed  to  spend  the  night  at  the 
hospital. 

Kuboyama,  for  example,  took  the  news  rather 
stoically.  He  went  back  to  work  on  his  radio 
equipment  still  under  the  conviction  that  the 
ship  would  put  out  on  a  new  voyage  soon.  That 
night,  when  he  went  home  and  told  his  wife 
about  the  radioactivity,  she  looked  at  him 
blankly  as  though  she  had  not  heard  a  word  he 
said.  Then  he  mentioned  the  A-bomb  and 
Hiroshima.  She  burst  into  tears  and  clung  to 
him.  The  radioman  tried  to  comfort  her.  "Don't 
worry,  darling,  it  will  take  more  time  to  see  the 
results.  You  go  to  bed  and  sleep.  We  are  going 
to  the  Yaizu  North  Hospital  tomorrow." 

The  three  children  were  already  asleep.  His 
wife  obediently  went  to  bed  and  Kuboyama 
stayed  up  for  a  while  wondering  What  was  in 
store  for  him.  Later  he  was  to  write:  "From  this 
day  on,  unhappiness  of  our  family  began." 

THE     CRISIS     MOUNTS 

YAIZU  was  not  the  only  Japanese  city  to 
become  excited  about  radioactivity.  At 
the  huge  industrial  center  of  Osaka,  Yashushi 
Nishiwaki,  a  young  biophysics  professor  at  the 
city  university  who  had  read  about  the  Lucky 
Dragon  in  Yomiuri,  called  the  city  health  office 
to  see  if  any  fish  from  Yaizu  had  been  shipped 
there.  Soon  he  was  summoned  to  the  Osaka  cen- 
tral market  where  he  found  a  tuna,  to  his  aston- 
ishment, that  rattled  his  Geiger  counter  at  60,000 
counts  per  minute.  City  officials,  discovering 
from  the  scales  and  paper  wrappings  that  con- 
taminated fish  had  already  been  eaten  by  about 
a  hundred  people,  pleaded  with  him  for  advice. 


Fear  swept  through  the  city  when  the  evening- 
papers  carried  the  story.  The  reaction  was  im- 
mediate and  drastic— people  stopped  buying  fish. 

The  problem  for  the  young  biophysicist  was 
similar  to  that  of  the  Tokyo  doctors  who  were 
examining  Masuda  and  Yamamoto.  They  could 
not  tell  how  badly  the  men  had  been  hurt,  and 
Nishiwaki  could  not  set  a  level  of  "permissible" 
contamination  for  fish,  without  knowing  how 
strong  the  source  of  original  radiation  had  been. 
Even  after  he  had  made  a  trip  to  Yaizu  to  inspect 
the  ship  and  its  crew  he  knew  days  would  pass 
before  his  analysis  of  the  ash  would  be  com- 
pleted. Nishiwaki  therefore  took  the  time  to 
write  an  open  letter  to  the  U.  S.  Atomic  Energy 
Commission,  asking  that  Japanese  scientists  be 
told  what  elements  had  been  in  the  H-bomb. 
He  gave  it  to  the  representative  of  an  American 
press  service,  thinking  that  would  be  the  fastest 
way  to  reach  the  United  States. 

But  the  letter  was  never  transmitted.  It  was 
blocked  by  the  chief  of  the  wire  service's  Tokyo 
bureau.  Later  Nishiwaki  learned  that  the  deci- 
sion had  been  made  on  the  grounds  that  he  was 
"an  alarmist  who  was  obviously  seeking  pub- 
licity." When  the  scientist  sought  out  the  bureau 
chief  later  that  year  he  was  dismayed  to  find  that 
the  latter  had  not  changed  his  mind.  The  man 
told  him  that  he  had  friends  in  the  AEC  who 
had  assured  him  the  fish  were  not  contaminated. 
Pointing  to  his  wrist-watch  radium  dial,  he  said 
Nishiwaki  probably  thought  that  was  dangerous 
too.  This  attitude  on  the  part  of  some  Amer- 
icans puzzled  and  irritated  and  eventually 
alienated  Japanese  scientists  and  laymen  alike. 
The  incident  marked  the  beginning  of  a  wide 
and  unnecessary  rift  between  the  two  nations. 

The  doctors  who  were  treating  Masuda  and 
Yamamoto  in  Tokyo,  and  a  team  from  the  same 
hospital  that  had  now  examined  the  men  in 
Yaizu  were  also  fighting  against  time  to  learn 
the  contents  of  the  ash.  In  handling  victims  of 
radiation,  they  could  draw  on  the  wealth  of 
medical  information  gained  by  a  systematic 
study  of  the  survivors  of  Hiroshima  and  Naga- 
saki. This  had  been  carried  out  by  the  Atomic 
Bomb  Casualty  Commission,  a  co-operative  re- 
search facility  that  had  been  established  at 
Hiroshima,  where  thousands  of  individuals  had 
been  carefully  examined  and  re-examined.  But 
what  confused  the  situation  now  was  the  pres- 
ence of  residual  radioactivity.  Even  after  hair- 
cuts, nail-clippings,  and  a  thorough  scrubbing, 
the  fishermen  retained  some  radioactivity  on 
their  skin.  This  was  something  with  which  the 
Japanese   doctors  had   no  practical   experience, 


54 


HARPERS     MAGAZINE 


and  they  were  in  the  dark  about  how  deep- 
seated  the  injury  to  the  men  might  be. 

Officials  of  the  University  of  Tokyo  had  re- 
quested assistance  from  the  Atomic  Bomb  Cas- 
ualty Commission  and  in  response,  Dr.  John 
Morton,  its  white-haired  director,  arrived  in 
Tokyo  on  March  18.  He  visited  the  two  patients, 
Masuda  and  Yamamoto,  at  the  university  hos- 
pital and  discussed  their  condition  with  the 
attending  physicians.  He  assured  the  Japanese 
doctors  that  the  United  States  would  be  ready  to 
assist  and  offered  to  have  antibiotics  delivered  to 
the  hospital.  Before  leaving  for  Yaizu,  Dr.  Mor- 
ton stated  that  he  had  found  the  fishermen  "in 
better  shape  than  I  had  expected"  and  that  the 
twenty-three  fishermen  would  recover  "in  two  or 
three  weeks,  a  month  at  most." 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Senator  John  Pastore 
of  Rhode  Island  passed  through  Tokyo  on  a  brief 
visit  and  presumably  was  briefed  by  authorities 
there  on  the  condition  of  the  Lucky  Dragon  crew. 
Senator  Pastore,  a  member  of  the  Joint  Congres- 
sional Committee  on  Atomic  Energy,  returned  to 
the  United  States  and  gave  an  interview  to  the 
press  in  which  he  made  very  optimistic  state- 
ments about  the  fishermen's  recovery.  This  was 
but  one  of  a  series  of  semi-official  opinions  voiced 
in  America  which  aggravated  the  delicate  rela- 
tions between  Americans  and  Japanese  in  Japan. 

News  from  America  continued  to  be  featured 
in  the  Japanese  press.  For  the  first  time  semi- 
official information  about  the  huge  explosion 
came  out  into  the  open.  Representative  James 
Van  Zandt,  a  Republican  Congressman  from 
Pennsylvania  and  a  member  of  the  Joint  Com- 
mittee, stated  that  the  March  1  H-bomb  ex- 
plosion had  equaled  the  blast  of  twelve  to  four- 
teen million  tons  of  TNT.  The  new  Bikini 
bond)  was  of  incredible  destructiveness.  No  won- 
der, then,  that  leading  Japanese  newspapers  ran 
editorials  urging  that  the  danger  area  around 
the  Eniwetok  Proving  Grounds  be  enlarged;  and 
the  U.  S.  government  promptly  issued  a  notice 
doing  precisely  this.  The  new  danger  area  en- 
compassed about  400,000  square  miles  of  terri- 
tory, or  roughly  eight  times  the  area  formed  by 
the  previously  designated  zone. 

On  March  19  the  Maritime  Safety  Board  in 
Japan  announced  the  new  limits.  All  boats  fish- 
ing in  this  area,  or  taking  passage  through  it, 
were  required  to  put  in  at  five  designated  ports 
and  be  inspected  for  radioactivity.  The  ports 
specified  were  Shiogama,  Shimizu  on  the  island 
of  Shikoku,  Yaizu,  Tokyo,  and  Misaki,  the  great 
tuna  center  near  Tokyo. 

Establishing  the  official  inspection  stations  was 


a  step  which  the  Japanese  government  took  to 
stem  the  rising  hysteria  over  the  contamination 
of  the  fish  supply.  There  was  no  doubt  that 
something  drastic  had  to  be  done  to  assure  the 
Japanese  people  that  the)  were  not  being 
poisoned.  Fish-dealers  were  having  a  hard  time 
convincing  customers  that  their  wares  were  not 
radioactive.  Some  shops  displayed  posters  read- 
ing:    "WE    DO    NOT    SELL    RADIO  \<   ll\i      FISH,"    but 

w.u\  purchasers  shied  away.  The  great  port  of 
Misaki  found  itself  with  warehouses  bulging  with 
/.">()  tons  of  tuna. 

The  Misaki  market  was  closed  on  March  19, 
precipitating  a  panic  among  the  fish  dealers.  The 
hysteria  spread  to  ncarln  Yokohama  and  then  to 
Tokyo  itself.  The  great  Tokyo  Central  Whole- 
sale Market  closed  lor  the  fust  time  since  the 
cholera  epidemic  of  1935.  Driven  to  desperation, 
some  merchants  circulated  handbills,  even  rent- 
ing helicopters  to  drop  them  from  the  sky:  "Fat 
Misaki  tuna  and  keep  away   from  radiation 

DANGER." 

None  ol  these  measures  worked  very  well. 
When  it  became  known  that  fish  had  been 
banned  from  the  Emperor's  diet,  people  became 
even  more  worried.  Prices  plummeted  to  still 
lower  depths  and  some  fish  dealers  were  forced 
into  bankruptcy. 

is  it  America's  fault? 

PUBLIC  resentment  over  the  Bikini  acci- 
dent spread  throughout  Japan  and  news- 
papers ran  editorials  highly  critical  of  the  United 
States.  They  criticized  Dr.  Morton  for  failing  to 
treat  the  Yaizu  fishermen  (despite  the  illegality 
of  such  treatment  by  an  American  doctor).  They 
expressed  fear  that  the  patients  would  be  used  as 
"guinea  pigs,"  and  they  demanded  reparation 
for  the  damages  incurred.  Ambassador  John  M. 
Allison  sought  to  take  some  of  the  sting  out  of 
the  criticisms  by  issuing  a  press  release  on  March 
19,  in  which  he  said  that  he  was  "authorized  to 
make  clear  that  the  U.  S.  is  prepared  to  take 
such  steps  as  may  be  necessary  to  insure  fair  and 
just  compensation  if  the  facts  so  warrant." 

//  the  facts  so  warrant:  what  did  this  mean? 
Was  it  merely  diplomatic  pussyfooting?  Or  did 
it  mean  that  there  was  doubt  about  the  injuries? 

A  U.  S.  Congressman,  Melvin  Price  from  Illi- 
nois, commented  that  the  presence  of  the  Jap- 
anese fishing  boat  so  close  to  the  blast  indicated 
that  a  Soviet  submarine  could  have  come  even 
closer.  At  this  point,  Representative  W.  Sterling 
Cole,  chairman  of  the  Joint  Atomic  Committee, 
was   interpreted   in   the  Japanese   press   as   sug- 


THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  LUCKY  DRAGON 


55 


gesting  that  the  Lucky  Dragon  may  have  been 
on  a  spying  mission.  This  suggestion  infuriated 
the  Japanese. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Merrill  Eisenbud,  director  of 
the  AEC's  Health  and  Safety  Laboratory,  had 
arrived  at  Tokyo's  Haneda  Airport  and  been 
whisked  away  in  an  Embassy  sedan  before  cor- 
respondents could  question  him.  Eisenbud  was 
making  a  hurried  flight  to  Japan  in  order  to 
check  on  the  levels  of  radioactivity  and  to  see 
what  assistance  his  laboratory  could  render  for 
the  crewmen.  A  short  time  later  this  American 
expert  on  fall-out  flew  to  Yaizu  and  lugged  an 
armful  of  instruments  aboard  the  Lucky  Dragon. 
The  jaunty  AEC  expert  disdained  gloves,  mask, 
or  protective  clothing  and  rather  horrified  some 
of  the  Japanese  scientists  by  his  nonchalance. 
At  the  hospital  Eisenbud  was  given  a  cool  recep- 
tion by  the  Japanese  doctors,  who  made  a  point 
of  emphasizing  that  he  had  neither  a  Ph.D.  nor 
an  M.D.  degree.  It  was  quite  evident  that  a 
distinct  note  of  hostility  had  arisen  between  the 
Americans  and  Japanese. 

The  condition  of  the  fishermen  was  still  ob- 
scured by  uncertainty  about  the  actual  dose  of 
radiation  they  had  received.  When  Dr.  Morton 
made  his  optimistic  prediction,  he  had  examined 
only  two  of  the  fishermen  and  he  could  not  have 
received  any  reliable  estimate  of  the  dose. 
Furthermore,  there  was  no  precedent  in  medical 
science  for  evaluating  the  impact  of  radiation 
which  penetrated  the  whole  body,  and  at  the 
time  there  was  no  estimate  of  the  amount  of 
radioactive  material  which  the  men  might  have 
swallowed  or  breathed  in. 

At  Yaizu  the  fishermen  were  undergoing  many 
new  experiences.  Few  of  them  had  ever  been  to 
a  hospital  in  their  lives,  so  many  routine  medical 
procedures  made  a  deep  impression  upon  them. 
Misaki,  the  wheelman,  given  a  blood  transfusion, 
was  overwhelmed  by  the  sight  of  so  much  blood. 
He  thought:  If  I  need  so  much  blood,  then  my 
life  will  not  last  very  long. 

Hearing  the  many  fearful  stories  about  the 
effects  of  radioactivity,  the  crewmen  became  so 
worried  about  what  might  happen  to  them  that 
they  asked  the  doctors  to  stay  in  the  room  with 
them  at  night.  The  doctors  also  talked  over  with 
them  the  advisability  of  transferring  to  the 
Tokyo  hospitals,  where  there  would  be  better 
facilities.  This  proposal  met  with  a  mixed  re- 
action. Some  of  the  crew  were  willing  to  go  to 
Tokyo,  others  were  afraid.  The  thought  of  being 
transported  in  a  U.  S.  military  plane  terrified 
the  few  who  had  heard  wild  rumors  that  they 
would  be  flown  away  to  some  military  base. 


Presumably,  the  big  factor  in  finally  persuad- 
ing them  to  transfer  to  Tokyo  was  the  general 
decline  in  their  physical  condition.  Initially, 
blood  counts  did  not  show  a  very  abnormal 
white  cell  count,  but  this  changed  gradually  and 
kept  slipping  lower  during  the  second,  week  at 
Yaizu.  Then,  too,  loss  of  hair  was  noted  in 
almost  all  the  crewmen.  The  sailors  realized  that 
they  were  not  going  to  be  released  from  the 
hospital  very  soon  and  they  finally  agreed  to  go 
to  Tokyo. 

A  big  C-54  military  air  transport  was  flown  to 
Shizuoka  and  friends  of  the  fishermen  gathered 
at  the  airport  to  see  them  off.  Some  of  the  well- 
wishers  could  scarcely  conceal  their  fear  that 
their  friends  would  be  flown  to  a  U.  S.  possession 
and  never  return. 

For  most  of  the  crewmen  it  was  their  first 
plane  ride.  Kuboyama  was  much  interested  in 
the  trip  and  struck  up  an  acquaintance  with  one 
of  the  American  officers  aboard,  who  told  him: 
"It  is  America's  great  fault  that  you  are  all  like 
this,"  adding  "Gomen-na-sai.  [Please  forgive  us.]" 
Kuboyama  said  that  he  would  be  glad  to  hear 
such  words  of  sympathy  even  if  they  were  not  the 
truth.  He  felt  that  the  United  States,  as  the 
victor  in  the  last  war,  might  well  take  the  view 
that  the  Japanese  were  a  beaten  nation,  and  say, 
"How  dare  you  make  so  much  noise  about  being 
guinea  pigs  for  one  or  two  H-bombs!" 

[The  final  installment  of  "The  Voyage  of  the 
Lucky  Dragon"  will  appear  next  month.'] 


Charles  B.  Seib  and  Alan  L.  Otten 


the  Case  of  the 

FURIOUS  CHILDREN 


At  the  National  Institutes  of  Health  Center 

in  Bethesda,  six  boys  with  records  of 

juvenile  violence  are  serving  as  subjects 

for  one  of  the  most  exhaustive  studies  of 

human  behavior  ever  attempted. 

TH  E  "acting-out"  child,  to  use  the  psychia- 
trists' term,  is  an  island  of  wild  emotion 
in  a  hostile  world.  He  has  no  controls,  no  sense 
of  the  future.  Every  impulse,  however  fantastic, 
must  be  gratified  immediately  and  violently.  Al- 
though he  has  not  yet  crossed  the  border  into 
schizophrenia  or  some  other  serious  psychosis, 
he  is  profoundly  disturbed.  Two  dark  roads 
stretch  before  him— disastrous  mental  illness  or 
delinquency  blending  into  adult  crime. 

Trying  to  handle  an  acting-out  child  is  like 
trying  to  handle  a  lit  string  of  firecrackers.  The 
question  is  not  whether  there  will  be  an  explo- 
sion, but  when  and  how  often.  To  have  to  care 
for  a  group  of  such  children— let  alone  help  or 
study  them— is  a  terrifying  prospect.  Yet  for 
nearly  four  years,  six  of  these  youngsters,  assem- 
bled by  the  federal  government,  have  been  the 
subjects  of  one  of  the  most  exhaustive  investiga- 
tions of  human  behavior  ever  attempted. 

The  boys  were  selected  on  the  basis  of  the 
consistent  ferocity  of  their  behavior,  as  docu- 
mented in  the  records  of  courts,  schools,  and 
social  agencies.  Though  they  were  only  eight 
to  ten  years  old  at  the  time  they  became  charges 
of  the  government,  their  case  histories  were  long 
and  strikingly  similar:  classroom  difficulties  rang- 
ing from  inability  to  learn  to  violent  tantrums, 
truancy,  stealing,  fire-setting,  assaults— often 
fiendish  in  their  ingenuity— on  other  children, 
sexual  misbehavior,  and  so  on.  Most  of  the  boys 
came  from  broken  homes  and  had  been  given  up 


as  hopeless  by  relatives,  teachers,  and  others  who 
tried  to  live  with  them. 

In  the  spring  of  1954  they  were  brought  to  a 
locked  ward  in  the  National  Institutes  of  Health 
Clinical  Center  in  Bethesda,  Maryland,  just  out- 
side of  Washington,  where  a  huge  staff  of  psy- 
chiatrists, therapists,  teachers,  counselors,  and 
nurses  was  waiting  for  them.  There  they  slowly 
learned  the  meaning  of  love,  compassion,  accept- 
ance, and  self-control.  And  there,  from  the 
moment  of  their  arrival,  their  actions,  reactions, 
words— every  observable  element  of  their  exist- 
ence—were exhaustively  recorded.  While  they 
played,  studied,  ate,  underwent  treatment,  even 
as  they  slept,  the  documentation  piled  up  at  the 
rate  of  a  good-sized  novel  every  two  weeks.  It  is 
still  going  on,  and  when  completed  it  will  con- 
stitute one  of  the  most  complete  records  ever 
compiled  on  the  lives,  conscious  and  unconscious, 
ol  a  group  of  human  beings. 

When  this  great  mass  of  information  is 
analyzed  and  interpreted,  society  will  have  valu- 
able new  knowledge  about  the  behavior  of  all 
children— normal  as  well  as  disturbed.  For 
parents  and  professionals  there  will  be  new  in- 
sights to  the  control  and  channeling  of  childhood 
aggressions,  detecting  and  handling  the  first  signs 
of  juvenile  delinquency,  providing  the  surround- 
ings likely  to  bring  the  child's  happiest  develop- 
ment. 

And  for  the  boys,  who  are  unknowingly  sup- 
plying all  this  information,  there  is  every  hope 
that  eventually  they  will  be  able  to  take  their 
places  in  society. 

Guiding  genius  of  the  project  is  Vienna-born 
Dr.  Fritz  Redl,  who  has  spent  most  of  his  fifty- 
five  years  working  with  disturbed  children.  A 
man  ol  deep  compassion  and  boundless  enthusi- 
asm, he  is  half  of  a  unique  partnership  in  which 
the  government  provides  the  facilities  and  the 
money— unofficially  estimated  at  $250,000  a  year 


THE     CASE     OF     THE     FURIOUS     CHILDREN 


57 


or  more— and  he  provides  the  know-how,  the 
leadership,  and— on  occasion— the  daring. 

Redl  laid  the  groundwork  for  the  present 
project  in  "Pioneer  House,"  a  group  therapy 
home  for  wayward  boys  he  operated  in  Detroit 
some  ten  years  ago.  However,  shortages  of 
money,  staff,  and  facilities  kept  that  project  and 
the  others  he  has  conducted  in  Austria  and 
this  country  from  approaching  the  scope  of 
today's  operation. 

Dr.  Redl  came  to  NIH  in  August  1953,  when 
federal  officials  decided  that  the  new,  500-bed 
Clinical  Center  should  include  a  project  on  the 
mental  health  of  children  in  its  research  pro- 
gram. They  invited  him,  as  a  visiting  scientist, 
to  fill  the  gap,  and  he  immediately  set  about 
devising  the  project  which  would  permit  him  to 
explore  under  highly  controlled  conditions  some 
of  the  pathways  he  had  glimpsed  at  Pioneer 
House.  In  1955,  he  formally  entered  govern- 
ment service  and  his  present  title  is  Chief  of  the 
Child  Research  Branch  of  the  National  Institute 
of  Mental  Health. 

THE    WALLED    CAMP 

WHEN  the  six  acting-out  boys  arrived 
at  the  Center,  half  of  the  fourth  floor 
had  been  converted  into  a  sort  of  tile-walled 
boys'  camp. 

The  setup  had  been  given  a  thorough  testing. 
First,  several  groups  of  normal  youngsters  re- 
cruited in  the  neighborhood  spent  two-week 
"vacations"  in  the  ward.  Their  reactions  pro- 
vided essential  information  on  whether  the 
arrangement— admittedly  less  than  ideal— was 
satisfactory  for  child  living.  Also,  during  their 
stays  the  staff  worked  into  its  complicated 
twenty-four-hour  routine  and  obtained  some 
valuable  information  on  how  normal  children 
responded  to  situations  in  which  the  eventual 
long-term  residents  would  find  themselves.  Re- 
assuringly, some  of  the  visitors  objected  strenu- 
ously to  leaving  when  their  two-week  terms 
were  up. 

They  were  followed  by  two  groups  of  boys 
with  emotional  disturbances  similar  to  those  of 
the  boys  selected  for  the  long-term  project.  Each 
of  these  groups  stayed  for  some  months,  serving 
as  the  basis  for  a  number  of  short-term  research 
projects.  When  the  six  youngsters  now  in  the 
project  were  brought  in,  the  decision  was  that 
they  would  be  kept  until  they  no  longer  needed 
residential   treatment. 

The  six  boys  were  tense,  tough,  suspicious. 
Two   were   Negroes;    the   rest   white.    All   were 


physically  fit  and  had  normal  or  better  IOs. 
Although  they  had  been  recruited  through 
court  and  welfare  agencies,  they  came  with  the 
permission  of  whatever  family  they  had,  and 
with  the  understanding  that  they  would  stay 
until  they  were  well. 

The  staff  assembled  to  care  for  and  study 
them  at  times  numbered  as  high  as  forty,  and 
its  make-up  varied  according  to  the  boys'  needs 
and  the  individual  research  projects  being  car- 
ried on  within  the  major  project.  Typically, 
there  was  Redl,  the  director;  a  ward  psychiatrist, 
two  consulting  psychiatrists,  and  perhaps  a  re- 
search psychiatrist;  three  psychotherapists;  one 
half-time  and  two  full-time  teachers;  an  occupa- 
tional therapist,  a  group  worker,  a  case  worker, 
and  fifteen  to  twenty  counselors,  nurses,  and 
aides.  Because  the  project  was  unique,  Dr.  Redl 
from  the  start  conducted  a  busy  program  of  staff 
seminars  and  conferences  and  issued  a  steady 
stream  of  multigraphed  instructions,  hints, 
caveats,  admonitions,  and  accolades. 

Much  of  his  instruction,  especially  in  the  early 
days,  concerned  the  difficult  task  of  giving  the 
affection  the  boys  sorely  needed  but  rejected 
with  fierce  determination.  This  could  not  be 
sentimental  or  all-permissive;  such  an  approach 
would  have  been  hopeless  and  accepted  by  the 
boys  only  as  a  means  of  taking  over.  Instead,  the 
line  was:  "We're  on  your  side  even  when  you  do 
things  we  don't  like.  We're  not  going  to  let  you 
hurt  us  or  yourselves,  but  we're  not  going  to 
hold  your  actions  against  you  either.  You  don't 
have  to  perform  to  a  standard  or  make  promises 
here." 

For  the  acting-out  boys  this  was  something 
new.  Always  before  in  their  experience  love  and 
affection  had  been  offered  only  at  the  price  of 
improved  performance— the  kept  promise  to 
"never  do  it  again."  And  they  knew  from  bitter 
experience  that  they  could  not  pay  that  price. 
So  it  was  a  long,  painful  process  to  provide  the 
base  of  confidence  between  staff  and  boys  from 
which  the  boys  could  build  what  Redl  calls  the 
"controls  from  within,"  controls  that  would  leash 
their  rampant  aggression. 

One  of  the  basic  problems  was  how  to  cope 
with  the  terrible  tantrums  to  which  acting-out 
children  are  given.  These  are  not  the  brief  fits 
of  anger  and  heel-kicking  seen  in  normal  chil- 
dren. They  are  prolonged— sometimes  for  an 
hour  or  more— and  of  unmitigated  violence.  The 
only  limiting  factors  are  the  physical  strength  of 
the  child  and  his  ability  to  express  hatred. 

The  staff  developed  a  technique  of  holding  a 
boy  during  a  tantrum— pinning  his  arms,  keeping, 


58 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


his  feel  iiihIm  control,  and  staying  oul  oi  range 
of  his  teeth— that  avoided  as  fai  as  possible  the 
impression  thai  he  was  being  disciplined.  Dur- 
ing the  holding,  he  was  constantly  told  thai  this 
was  done  onl)  so  he  wouldn't  hurt  somebody 
and  thai  he'd  be  feeling  bettei   soon. 

Nevertheless,  the  boys  sometimes  managed  to 
gel  in  a  good  nip  or  kick,  and  more  than  one 
counseloi  made  a  trip  to  the  Center's  first-aid 
loom.  Violence  flared  among  the  boys  them- 
selves, too,  and  there  was  a  complex  interplay 
among  the  six  personalities  some  leading,  some 
goading,  some  serving  as  lall  guys— thai  provided 
valuable  material  for  the  record. 

Earl)  reports  contain  such  entries  as  these: 
"Richard  became  Eurious  with  Sam,  and  attacked 
him  murderously."  "I  le  spit  in  my  [a  counselor's] 
face."  "Ili  began  wildly  destroying  things  in  the 
classroom."  Through  it  all  ran  an  obbligato  of 
vile  language,  at  which  the  boys  were  proficient. 
I  here  wei e  even  a  few  lues  set. 

I  wo  tilings  made  the  task  ol  living  with  all 
this  bearable:  the  reassuring  presence  of  Dr. 
Redl,  with  his  vasi  background  ol  information 
on  juvenile  misbehavioi  and  inexhaustible  flow 
of  ideas;  and  the  growth  of  a  deep  interest  in— 
and  even  a  devotion  to  the  boys  themselves  that 
developed  in  the  staff.  I  he  attachment  to  these 
seemingly  unlovable  veningsters  became  so  strong 
thai  stall  tensions  developed  o\ei  cue  and  treat- 
ment techniques.  Foi  example,  a  counseloi 
might  complain  thai  the  fact  that  the  psycho- 
therapist  permitted  a   bo)    to  (heat   in   a   play- 

iheiapv  session  inletlcreel  with  his,  the  coun- 
selor's, efforts  to  bring  a  semblance  of  order  and 
fair   pla\    to   <  aid   games. 

I I  was  Redl  who  resolved  the  conflicts,  some- 
times with  an  all-pull-together  pitch,  sometimes 
with  a  reminder  thai  "aftei  all,  this  is  the  mess 
we  threw  ourselves  into  because  that  is  the  only 
wav  in  .hi  ive  al  woi  kable  answers." 

\s  iIk  insi  yeai  ran  into  the  second  the  l>ovs 
began  to  be  concerned  over  the  possibility  that 
in  theil  rages  they  might  hurt  someone.  A  boy 
aboul  to  start  a  session  with  a  woman  psycho- 
therapisl  might  suggest,  "1  think  a  counseloi 
ought  to  come  with  mc  today,"  if  he  felt  there 
was  .uiv  dangei  thai  he  would  lose  control  and 
injure  the  therapist. 

"These  boys  need  a  certain  amount  of  adult 

control  and  want  it,"  Dr.  Redl  explains.  "The 
secret,  ol  course,  and  one  of  the  purposes  of  this 
whole1  project,  is  to  determine  the  proper  bal- 
ance." 

Meanwhile,  from  therapists  and  teachers  came 
the  detailed,  interpretive  reports  on  the  results 


ol  theil  d.iilv  individual  sessions  with  the  young- 
steis.  Counselors,  nurses,  and  aides  provided 
othei  logs.  I  cams  of  researchers  observed  the 
hovs  through  oneway  glass  windows  in  the 
schoolrooms  and  shops.  Radio  transmitters, 
linked  to  recording  equipment  in  an  office,  cap- 
tured on-the-spot  observations. 

Muse  notes,  carefully  guarded  from  publica- 
tion, frequently  read  like  good  lietiem,  partially, 
at  least,  because  ol  Reell's  advice  to  his  staff: 
"Describe  what  happened,"  he  told  them.  "Say 
'Johnny  got  mad,  his  face  got  all  puckered  up, 
and  he'  pie  keel  up  a  piece  ol  clay  with  a  threaten- 
ing gesture  toward  me,  but  finally  put  it  down 
and  elieln'i  throw  it.'  Don't  say,  'Johnny  had  a 
sudden  outburst  ol  aggression  but  controlled 
same,'  or  '  Johnny  seems  to  stiller  from  hvper- 
aggiessive  drives.'  " 

WHILE     THE     IRON     IS     HOT 

ON  1  of  the  most  interesting  treatment 
techniques  developed  by  Dr.  Redl  is  the 
"life-space  interview,"  which  supplements  more 
orthodox  play-therapy  sessions.  In  conventional 
psychotherapy,  therapist  and  child  meet  in  a 
private  room  where  the  therapist  plays  and  talks 
with  the  child,  watching  for  opportunities  to 
explore  in<  ielents  from  the  past  which  may  be 
contributing  n>  current  difficulties.  Ideally,  the 
child  will  transfer  past  feelings  and  attitudes  to 
the  therapist,  thus  working  them  into  the  open 
where,  with  the  help  of  the  therapist,  they  can  be 
faced.  In  practice,  however,  a  child  frequently 
refuses  even  to  enter  the  treatment  room. 

The  life-space  interview,  by  contrast,  is  a  fluid 
technique.  I'  occurs  at  the  moment  the  child  has 
difficulty— when  he  gets  into  a  fight,  when  he 
throws  a  hook  in  the  classroom.  The  idea  is  to 
catch  him  when  he's  "hot"  and  able  to  talk  freely 
about  what  he  feels.  The  person  who  talks  to 
him  may  be  a  therapist  who  happens  n>  be 
present  at  the  moment  or  some  other  staff  mem- 
ber trained   in   the  life-space  technique. 

Here  is  an  example  of  such  an  interview,  read 
recently  to  a  psychiatric  symposium  by  group 
worker  Joel  J.  Vernick: 

Albeit  [the  name  is  fictitious]  was  in  his 
room  being  held  by  two  counselors  as  a  result 
ol  being  extremely  upset  on  the  ward.  I 
entered  and  said  I  would  stay  with  him  now. 
When  he  was  released  he  struck  at  a  counselor. 
I  stepped  in  and  held  him  and  he  attempted 
to   bite  and   kick  me. 

I  said  softly  that  1  would  let  him  go  when 
he    settled    clown.     He    demanded    repeatedly 


THE  CASE  OF  THE  FURIOUS  CHILDREN 


59 


that  I  let  him  go.  However,  his  tone  of  voice 
indicated  he  was  not  ready  for  this.  He  gave 
me  one  good  solid  kick,  and  I  said  I  didn't 
want  to  be  kicked  and  would  have  to  hold 
him  on  the  floor  until  he  could  calm  down. 
When  I  had  him  on  the  floor,  he  repeated  the 
demand  for  me  to  let  go.  When  he  quieted 
down  a  little,  I  let  him  go.  He  got  up  and  I 
acted  surprised  that  he  was  angry  with  me, 
referring  to  how  I  had  just  come  into  the 
room  and  had  nothing  to  do  with  what  hap- 
pened before.  He  ceased  his  efforts  to  attack 
me  physically.  He  now  stalked  about  the 
room  looking  for  something  to  throw  at  me. 
I  noticed  there  was  much  debris  on  the  floor, 
and  bending  down  I  said  I  would  help  him 
clean  up. 

As  I  started  to  pick  up  things  he  threw  a 
basket  at  me  which  hit  me  a  glancing  blow, 
but  this  was  a  token  throwing  and  was  part  of 
his  cooling-down  process.  He  now  seemed 
more  in  control  of  his  actions  and  had  been 
able  to  achieve  some  awareness  that  he  was 
not  angry  with  me.  He  next  tapped  me  lightly 
on  the  head  with  a  nail  protruding  from  a 
board.  I  slowly  arose  and  without  saying  any- 
thing took  it  away  from  him.  He  did  not 
resist. 

All  during  this  time  I  was  wondering  out 
loud  what  was  bothering  him,  why  he  threw 
things  and  hit  me  when  he  wasn't  even  angry 
with  me.  I  also  asked  him  about  the  owner- 
ship of  things  I  picked  up  so  that  I  could 
put  them  on  the  right  dresser.  When  every- 
thing was  cleared  from  the  floor,  I  suggested 
that  we  play  cards  if  he  had  a  deck.  I  referred 
to  the  last  time  when  he  beat  me  at  cards.  He 
said  nothing,  sat  on  his  bed,  head  down, 
silent,  looking  depressed.  After  several  seconds 
of  silence,  I  commented  that  something  must 
be  bothering  him  and  I  wondered  what  it 
was. 

He  said  somewhat  tauntingly  that  he  had  a 
knife  hidden  and  nobody  would  get  it.  I 
raised  my  eyebrows,  and  said,  "Holy  smokes, 
if  you  have  a  knife  it  doesn't  do  you  any  good 
if  you  have  to  keep  it  hidden  all  the  time." 
I  went  on  to  state  the  ward  policy  about 
knives,  saying  he  could  use  a  knife  in  the 
shop.  He  said  he  was  referring  to  a  table 
knife  and  that  he  had  tricked  me  because  he 
didn't  have  a  pocket  knife.  I  made  no  reply  to 
this  and  went  on  talking  about  it  being  a 
pocket  knife.  He  said  derisively  we  wouldn't 
allow  him  to  use  it  in  the  shop.  I  smiled  and 
reassured  him  that  we  would. 

He  then  told  me  to  leave  the  room  so  he 
could  get  it  out  of  its  hiding  place,  and  I 
complied.  I  returned  when  he  called,  and  he 
was  brandishing  a  pocket  knife,  blade  open.  I 
didn't  look  at  Albert  as  I  entered,  but  only  at 


the  knife.  I  made  the  remark  that  it  was  a 
nice-looking  knife  and  at  the  same  time  I 
reached  out  my  hand  for  it.  He  immediately 
handed  it  to  me.  After  several  minutes  of 
looking  and  talking  about  it,  I  said  there  was 
time  for  us  to  go  to  the  shop  and  use  it  now. 
I  then  referred  back  to  his  brandishing  the 
knife  at  me  earlier  and  commented  that  this 
was  not  the  correct  use  of  it.  On  the  way  to 
the  shop  I  referred  to  the  rule  that  a  knife 
must  be  closed  in  transit.  He  immediately 
closed  it.  In  the  shop  he  started  to  whittle.  I 
involved  myself  in  this  activity  as  a  friend  of 
the  knife.  We  spent  some  time  whittling. 
When  lunchtime  was  near,  I  suggested  that 
we  return  to  the  ward.  He  readily  complied. 
I  then  offered  to  take  him  to  the  nurse's  sta- 
tion to  show  him  where  the  knife- was  to  be 
kept.  He  tossed  me  the  knife,  said  I  could  put 
it  away,  and  he  went  to  lunch. 

ROUND     THE     CLOCK 

SCHOOL  was  a  serious  problem.  The 
boys  came  with  deep-rooted  learning  diffi- 
culties, and  some  slipped  back  further  after 
their  arrival.  One  youngster  who  was  supposed 
to  be  third-grade  level  insisted  on  sitting  on  the 
floor  and  playing  with  blocks  like  a  five-year-old. 

The  boys  automatically  rejected  any  overt 
attempt  to  teach  them,  and  they  were  shrewd  in 
detecting  covert  attempts.  During  a  time  when 
they  had  a  stamp-collecting  bug,  a  teacher  tried 
to  get  some  geography  across  by  using  a  map  to 
which  stamps  had  been  attached.  The  boys  could 
win  the  stamps  by  naming  the  countries  on 
which  they  appeared.  It  worked  briefly,  until 
one  of  the  boys  caught  on.  "This  is  just  a  way 
to  get  us  to  learn,"  he  announced,  and  that 
ended  it. 

Life  in  the  Clinical  Center  ward  resembled  a 
cross  between  a  summer  camp  and  a  small, 
progressive  private  school.  The  days  began  at 
7:00  a.m.  when  radio  music  was  played  over  the 
intercoms  that  had  kept  a  quiet  watch  on  the 
boys'  bedrooms  during  the  night.  Breakfast  was 
preceded  by  a  council  meeting  at  which  the  boys 
participated  in  charting  the  day's  activities- 
should  they  go  swimming  or  skating  after  school, 
etc.  After  breakfast  came  the  morning  school 
session— at  first  with  individual  instruction;  later 
three  to  a  classroom. 

School  was  followed  by  lunch,  a  rest  period  in 
their  rooms  with  games,  and  a  short  school  ses- 
sion. The  rest  of  the  afternoon  was  for  play  or 
a  special  project.  Some  time  during  each  day, 
according  to  a  set  schedule,  each  boy  had  an 
hour's  individual  play  therapy  with  one  of  the 


60 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


three  psychotherapists.  Around  5:00  p.m.,  the 
boys  went  to  their  rooms  to  prepare  for  suppei 
at  5:30.    Then  came  games  in  the  playroom  or 

television  in  the  lounge.  At  8:.'!0,  showers,  an 
evening  snack,  and  bed. 

Everything  possible  was  done  to  temper  the 
institutional  setting.  The  boys  had  a  big  fenced 
playground  on  the  Center's  grounds.  There  were 
cook-outs,  camping  trips,  swimming  at  the  Wash- 
ington "Y,"  visits  to  a  drugstore  whose  proprie- 
tor was  interested  in  the  project.  Sometimes  the 
boys  were  taken  to  a  public  playground;  they 
even  went  trick-or-treating  on  Hallowe'en  after 
arrangements  had  been  made  with  the  selected 
people  in  the  neighborhood.  All  trips  were,  of 
course,  chaperoned— at  first  by  six  counselors, 
later  by  just  one  or  two.  Occasionally,  some  ol 
the  normal  youngsters  who  had  tested  the  ward 
visited  the  boys  and  some  rather  guarded  friend- 
ships developed. 

HALFWAY     HOUSE 

WITH  the  growth  ol  the  boys'  self-con- 
trol, the  hospital  setting  became  more 
and  more  unsatisfactory.  Despite  all  the  outside 
activities  home  base  was  still  a  hospital  ward, 
with  the  hospital  smell  always  faintly  in  the  air; 
any  exclusion  had  to  be  carefully  planned;  and 
solitude,  a  precious  childhood  necessity,  was  haul 
to  come  by.  Once  during  a  picnic  a  boy  dis- 
appeared. A  staff  member  finallv  found  him 
sitting  on  the  bank  of  a  brook,  gazing  at  the 
water.  Asked  if  anything  was  troubling  him, 
he  replied  dreamily:  "No,  it's  just  so  epiiel  and 
wonderful  here." 

A  residence  was  obviously  the  answer,  so  a 
rambling,  modern  piece  ol  tippet  <  lass  suburbia 
was  built  on  the  NIH  grounds.  In  government 
records  ii  is  Building  T-l.  a  temporary  structure 
despite  its  $100,000  price  tag.  Red]  has  come  to 
call  it  "Hallway  House"  because  he  feels  that  in 
moving  from  the  locked  ward  to  this  open,  home- 
like setting,  the  boys  are  roughly  halfway  to  the 
outside  world. 

In  addition  to  meeting  the  present  needs  of 
the  boys,  Redl  believes  that  "Hallway  House" 
will  provide  valuable  research  on  the  proper 
ingredients  for  the  successful  transfer  of  a  child 
from   an   institution   to  life  outside. 

"One  of  the  reasons  kids  come  back  to  in- 
stitutions," he  says,  "may  well  be  the  suddenness 
of  the  switch  from  tlie  institutional  life  to  the 
strains  of  life  at  home  or  in  a  foster  home.  II  a 
satisfactory  in-between  setting  can  be  devised, 
many  kids  may  avoid  those  return  trips." 


When  the  boys  Inst  learned  ol  the  plans  to 
give  them  a  house— with  no  locked  doors  or  high 
fences— they  were  uneasy.  "But  won't  we  run 
away?"  one  asked.  Actually,  Dr.  Redl  sees  run- 
away attempts  as  a  natural— even  necessary— step 
toward  getting  back  to  normal  life.  "That's  the 
way  they'll  learn  the  consequences  of  their  acts," 
he  says.  "We  don't  want  to  make  them  into  good 
hospital  patients.  They  need  the  reactions  of 
other  people  now— people  who  will  not  lake  a 
clinical  attitude  toward  their  misdeeds."  He  did, 
however,  introduce  the  boys  to  the  police  so  that 
if  they  should  run  away  their  return  would  be 
cjuick  and  easy.  So  far  there  have  been  no  run- 
away attempts.  The  boys  seem  thoroughly  satis- 
lied  with  their  paneled  living-room  with  fire- 
place, big  play-room  and  kitchen  where  the  re- 
frigerator can  be  raided  for  Cokes  and  snacks. 
There  is  a  dot;  to  play  with;  grass  and  trees  just 
outside. 

The  boys  are  also  becoming  members  ol  the 
community.  Though  they  still  visit  the  Clinical 
Center  for  therapy  sessions,  they  are  attending 
public  schools  ol  Montgomery  County.  They 
hope  to  join  the  Boy  Scouts,  and  they  tan  and 
do  entertain  their  friends  in  their  home. 

The  stall,  too,  has  been  reorganized.  There  is 
a  house  mother,  who  lives  with  the  boys;  a  resi- 
dence director;  an  assistant  director;  and  a  pro- 
gram director.  The  corps  ol  nurses,  counselors, 
teachers,  and  researchers  has  been  cut  to  eleven. 

Redl  is  walking  a  tightrope  in  setting  the  at- 
mosphere of  the  residence.  He  wants  it  to  be 
homelike,  and  it  is.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
doesn't  want  the  boys  to  get  the  idea  that  this 
air-conditioned  well-staffed  establishment  is  the 
kind  of  house  they  can  expect  to  live  in  when 
they  go  into  the  outside  world. 

Meanwhile,  back  at  the  Center,  Dr.  Redl  is 
branching  out.  When  the  boys  moved  to  Hall- 
way House,  they  were  replaced  by  a  group  of 
children  of  nursery-school  age,  who  stayed  six 
weeks  as  part  of  a  special  research  project.  Next 
came  a  group  ol  acting-out  boys  between  seven- 
and-a-hall  and  eight-and-a-half,  slanted  more  eli- 
te cilv  toward  schizophrenia  than  their  predeces- 
sors. Eventually,  there  will  be  another  long-term 
project. 

WHAT     IT     WILL     PROVE 

DR  .  REDL  expects  that  within  the  next 
year  or  two  published  material  based  on 
the  project's  findings  will  begin  to  come  out, 
and  he  hopes  that  then  the  life-space  interview 
technicjue  may  become  a  standard  tool  for  people 


SONG 


61 


who  work  with  children.  He  also  hopes  that  the 
data  will  provide  a  set  of  new  guides  to  measure 
improvement  in  the  behavior  of  disturbed  chil- 
dren. Too  often,  he  says,  adults  mistake  "surface 
improvement"  for  the  real  thing,  or  regard  "tem- 
porary disorganized  behavior"  as  a  basic  dis- 
turbance rather  than  a  possible  mask  for  im- 
provement. 

It  is  possible,  Redl  believes,  that  the  project 
will  eventually  produce  a  handbook  for  the  care 
of  hyper-aggressive  children,  and  attack  such 
questions  as  these: 

(1)  Just  how  much'  aggressiveness  does  a  child 
need  in  order  to  meet  today's  demands?  It's 
possible— even  easy— to  kill  aggressiveness  en- 
tirely, according  to  Redl,  but  this  merely  leaves 
the  child  unable  to  fend  for  himself.  The 
problem  is  to  retain  just  the  right  amount. 

(2)  How  can  hyper-aggressive  children  be  led 
to  work  out  some  of  their  aggression  through 
fantasies,  daydreams,  arts  and  crafts,  instead  of 
having  to  act  them  out  "for  real"? 

(3)  What  happens  to  adults  in  their  relation- 
ships with  aggressive  and  hyper-aggressive  chil- 
dren? How  do  you  select  the  adults  who  are 
best  suited  for  work  in  this  field? 

(4)  What  is  the  nature  of  group  excitement, 
the  sort  of  thing  that  can  be  seen  at  almost  any 
child's  birthday  party  and,  in  greatly  magnified 
form,  in  a  group  of  acting-out  children? 

Dr.  Redl  further  hopes  to  extract  from  the 
project  a  great  deal  of  specific  information  on 
one  of  his  favorite  subjects— controls.  "It  isn't 
true,"  he  says,  "that  we  want  all  life  controlled 
from  within.  We  get  a  compulsive  character 
that  way.  We  all  need  a  certain  amount  of  out- 
side controls-we  obey  the  speed  laws  better  if 
we  know  a  cop  is  on  the  highway."  But  which 
outside  controls  will  work  with  children  and 
which  won't?  How  do  you  develop  the  proper 
balance  of  outside  and  inside  controls?  What 
amounts  of  each  are  needed  at  different  ages? 

Yardsticks  in  still  another  area— the  relation- 
ship between  a  child's  environment  and  his  men- 
tal health— may  also  be  extracted  from  the  rec- 
ords. "We  must  come  to  grips  with  the  ingredi- 
ents in  the  child's  environment  so  we  can  see 
what  is  wrong  and  what  to  do  about  it,"  Dr. 
Redl  asserts. 

Other  areas  in  which  he  expects  the  project's 
files  to  be  helpful  are  the  development  of  guide 
lines  on  how  regular  school  procedures  can  min- 
imize emotional  disturbances,  a  set  of  standards 
for  the  operation  of  treatment  homes  for  dis- 
turbed children,  and  a  whole  pharmacopoeia  of 
games  and  projects  to  use  in  teaching  and  enter- 


SONG 

EMILIE  BIX  BUCHWALD 


cold  I  walk  and  cold  I  wander, 

Wintering  the  lifetime  out. 

Owl  and  weasel  watch  the  warren 

Where  I  whimper  winter  doubt. 

They   are   sure   as   frost   and   biding 

Silent  as  the  winter  pause. 

Naked,  I  can  only  envy 

The  old  camouflage  for  claws. 


taining    both    normal    and    disturbed    children. 

Can  information  with  such  broad  application 
come  from  the  observations  on  just  six  children? 
Dr.  Redl  and  his  associates  think  it  can.  The  in- 
tensity and  accuracy  of  the  observation  are  the 
important  factors,  they  say. 

"Freud  based  his  conclusions  on  a  compara- 
tively few  cases,"  points  out  one  of  the  research- 
ers, "and  we  all  know  how  much  universality 
they  had."  Dr.  Redl  says  that  "while  our  work 
here  concerns  hyper-aggressive  children  and  the 
results  will  apply  most  directly  to  them,  many 
of  our  conclusions  will  also  have  broad  general 
applications." 

In  a  year  or  perhaps  a  year  and  a  half,  the  six 
boys  of  the  Redl  project  will  be  ready  to  go  into 
the  outside  world,  most  of  them  to  foster  homes. 
But  their  progress  will  be  followed  for  an  in- 
definite time  after  that. 

No  one  minimizes  the  difficulties  still  ahead  of 
them.  They  will  probably  be  "different"  in  many 
respects  throughout  their  lives;  it  is  hard  to  ex- 
pect otherwise  for  children  who  have  had  their 
experiences.  But  Dr.  Redl  feels  they  have  a  rea- 
sonable chance  of  happy  and  productive  lives. 

When  they  leave  his  orbit,  their  backgrounds 
will  still  be  with  them.  But  they  will  know  much 
that  they  didn't  know  when  they  came  to  NIH— 
that  they,  too,  can  love  and  be  loved;  that  they 
can  find  gratification  and  release  in  normal  ac- 
tivities; that  there  is  a  tenable  middle  ground 
between  the  demands  of  their  impulses  and  the 
limitations  imposed  by  life,  and  that  in  that 
middle  ground  they  can  be  happy.  These  are 
things  they  would  not  have  learned  in  the  re- 
formatories, prisons,  and  asylums  to  which  they 
would  almost  certainly  have  been  doomed  had 
they  not  been  brought  to  the  Clinical  Center. 


Harper's  presents  the  new  1958  (jjr$M 

INTERCONTINENTAL 


Designed  by  Tomi  Ungerer 
in  six  models,  all  classics. 


THE  PARTHENON 


"the  newest  thing  on  ear] 


THE  NEBUCHADNEZZfl 


THE  CHOW  MEIN 


THE  NOTRE  DAME 


.  anyway 


>> 


THE  CARTOUCHE 


vlf  you  can't  make  friends 
with  an  Intercontinental, 
you  can't  make  friends" 


DETAIL  OF  THE  GABRIEL 


JcPn^    24^1  ewt 


Martin   Green 


The  iron  corset 
on  Britain's 
Spirit 


A  rebellious  Englishman  examines  the 

peculiar  kind  of  aristocracy  which 

still  dominates  his  country — and  which  is 

smothering  it  in  £ood  manners,  mummified 

ideas,  and   dried-up  sentimentality. 

TH  E  idea  <>l  an  Englishman  in  most  Amer- 
icans' minds  is  something  quite  clear  and 
vivid  and  single.  He  is  polite,  diffident,  with  a 
murmurous,  richly  cultured  voice,  whimsical  and 
witty,  though  with  a  rigid  unspoken  moral  code; 
his  hair  is  rather  long  and  his  clothes  rather 
Edwardian,  with  a  suggestion  of  conscious  fancy 
dress,  but  surprisingly  sharp-wilted  and  strong- 
willed  underneath.  Lord  Peter  Wimsey.  Rex 
Harrison.  Mr.  Macmillan.  And  of  course  Eng- 
lishmen are  like  that.  Only  it's  a  small  minority 
of  them.   These  are  the  "British." 

It  is  not  so  easy  to  define  and  specify  the 
merely  British,  without  quotation  marks.  The 
Northerner,  for  instance,  who  is  still  a  type,  a 
myth,  at  the  level  of  popular  jokes,  has  received 
no  attention  at  the  upper  levels  of  culture 
for  many  years.  Characters  in  J.  B.  Priestley's 
books  and  his  own  public  persona  are  versions 
of  this  Northern  idea;  yet  it  is  possible  to  be, 
and  great  numbers  of  Englishmen  are,  most 
valuably  intelligent  and  mature  in  a  distinctively 
Northern  way.  The  Northerner— that  is,  the 
man  from  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire— is  tougher, 
blunter,  dowdier,  warmer  than  the  Southerner, 
usually    an    industrial    worker,    always    a    prole- 


tarian, altOgethei  less  pretentious,  less  cosmo- 
politan, less  socially  flexible,  more  strongly 
rooted  in  himself  and  his  own  fireside.  The  one 
adequate  symbol  is  Gracie  Fields,  the  greatest 
British  entertainer  of  our  time.  Her  kind  of 
humor,  unsophisticated  but  keen-wilted,  hci  kind 
ol  charm,  plain,  honest,  hearty,  unseductive,  her 
kind  ol  energy,  gawky  rather  than  graceful,  her 
piercingly  direct  and  simple  sentimentality,  these 
are  Lancashire  personified. 

But  othei  parts  of  the  country  also  produce 
British  not  "British"  types.  Somerset,  for  in- 
stance, produced  Ernest  Bevin,  the  only  poli- 
tician I  remember  to  reach  Cabinet  tank  without 
becoming  "British"  on  the  way.  His  roughness, 
heaviness,  slowness,  dowdiness,  his  obvious  in- 
tegrity,  his   self-declared   limitedness,   were   the 

eliieel  antithesis  ol  .Anthony  Eden.  Photographs 
of  him  fox-trotting  at  Moscow  with  Lady  Diana 
Duff-Cooper,  or  of  Mis.  Bevin  at  a  fashion  show 
in  Paris  accompanied  by  Mrs.  (ilun chill,  were 
both  ludicrous  and  immensely  encouraging.  Or 
take  the  industrial  Midlands,  Nottinghamshire 
and  Derbyshire.  And  here,  for  the  fust  and  only 
time,  we  have  the  advantage  that  our  subject 
has  been  seen  for  us  and  given  to  us  by  a  bril- 
liant sensibility.  The  home  life  of  Paul  and 
Miriam  in  Sons  and  Lovers,  the  first  half  of  The 
Lost  Girl,  short  stories  by  Lawrence  like  "Fanny 
and  Annie"  and  "Tickets,  Please,"  should  con- 
vince us  that  there  are  many  ways  ol  being 
British,  deeply  exciting  and  admirable  ones,  re- 
lated to  the  "British"  way  only    by  antithesis. 

All  the  people  I  have  mentioned  are  fully 
the  product  of  their  social  situation,  their  Eng- 
land, and  they  are  fully  alive  and  important 
human  beings.  They  are  not,  as  the  world 
assumes,  hall-finished  products,  halfway  toward 
being  "British."  They  have  all,  in  fact,  an  im- 
plicit hostility  to  that,  a  need  to  attack  polish, 
brilliance,  and  dignity  of  that  kind.  La  pudeur, 
la  froideur,  le  fiegme  anglais,  those  were  the 
phrases  I  had  thrown  at  me  in  France;  no  won- 
der the  French  consider  Galsworthy  and  Charles 
Morgan  better  representatives  of  England  than 
Lawrence,  in  America  it  is  polish,  culture,  and 
an  almost  sinister  old-world  charm  1  feel  people 
looking  for  in  me.  They  should  think  again 
and  realize  that  the  majority  of  British  people 
don't  specialize  in  these  commodities. 

Nowadays  the  North  and  all  the  other  districts 
have  disappeared  from  the  map,  the  Northerner 
is  only  a  comic,  one-dimensional  figure;  in  a  film 
a  local  accent  signalizes  humorous  relief— only 
characters  speaking  BBC  English  are  to  be  taken 
seriously.    In  the  past  it  was  not  always  so.    Mrs. 


THE     IKON     CORSET     ON      It  R  I T  A I N '  S     SPIRIT  <>5 

Gaskell's  North  and  South  deals  with  the  difficul-  Henry  James'  techniques,  and  Eliot's  in  poetry, 

ties  of  adjustment  foragirl  from  the  South  going  The  reason  is  thai  Lawrence  was  nol  "British"; 

to  live  in  the  North,  After  1800  it  was,  of  course,  his  mind,  Mis  sensibility,  his  temperament,  the 

the  big  factories  and  mines  in  the  North  which  essence  <>l  him,  is  alien  to  those  who  are.  They 

dominated    the   contrast.    Bui    there   were   *  I  i  I  -  cannol   learn  from  him.     This  same  alienation 

leienees    before    (hen.    The    Danes   settled    imieh  is    obvious    in    Orwell's    ineffectual    attempts    to 

more    heavily    in    the    North     the    language    still  leel  like,  he  like,  a  working  class  man. 

hears   traces  of   it;    William   the  Conqueror   radi-  It  is  also  significant  thai  so  many  greal   writers 

rally  impoverished  it  in  the  effort  to  subordinate  iii   English  this  century  have  nol   been   English 

it  when  he  regulated  his  new  kingdom;  all  the  by  birth,  Eliot,  fames,  Conrad,  foyce,  Yeats,  how 

early  kings  encouraged  and  protected  the  South,  much   of  greal    vision    is    left    when    those    names 

which  was  much  more  theirs,  and  merely  ruled  are  taken  away?    And  all  these  naturally  knew 

i he  North.  only  the  educated  aristocracy.  They  had  no  inti- 

For  eight  centuries  the  North  lived  to  itself,  mate  understanding  of  people  like  Lawrence's 

played    a    very   small    part    in    British    history.  parents  and  friends.  They  could  only  see  them, 

Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  Milton,  Pope,   Johnson—  from  a  greal  distance,  as  underground  creatures, 
there  are  no  great   names  that  occur  Io  one  any- 
where north  of  Warwickshire,  north  ol  the  circle 
whose  center  was  London  and  the  monarchy  and 

the  artery  to  the  Continent.    England's  second  [    r  WOULD  nol  be  so  important  il  merely 


VV  II  A  I     IS     A     <;  E  IN   I   I,  E  rvi  A  IN 


I 


great  port  was  Bristol.   The  cities  of  the  North  JL  the  outside  world  took  "Britain"  Lor  Britain, 

were     York,     Chester,     Durham,     administrative  The  dangerous  tiling  is  that    England  does,  too. 

centers.    Birmingham,  Manchester,  Leeds,  Wol-  it  docs  nol  take  Ernesi   Bevin  <>r  Grade  Fields 

verhampton,  Liverpool,  Sheffield,  were  villages.  or  D.  II.  Lawrence  seriously,  because  (hey  are 

When  they  became  great  cities,  in  the  nineteenth  nol    educated.    That    is    why    they   seem    hall 

century,  they  did  take  their  place  on  the  cultural  finished  products.    Education  in  England  is  in- 

map,  but  as  a  question  mark,  a  Dark  Continent,  separable  from  the  process  of  becoming  a  gentle 

whose  inhabitants,  it  was  presumed,  would  be  man.  However  much  like  Ernesi  Bevin  or  Gracie 

given  a  language  and  a  form  in  due  time.   Mrs.  Fields  your  parents  may  he-,  yon  must   become 

Gaskell  and   Disraeli  tackled  the  problem,  but  much  more  like  Anthony  Eden  before  v<>n  feel 

were  no!   big  enough  lor  il;  and  no  great   writers  able  (<>  write  a   novel,  or  even   to  express  a  coiili 

look  up  their  work.    George  Eliot   belonged  to  dent   opinion  about    novels.    All   the  modes  of 

the      non-industrial      Midlands.        The      Brontes'  expression     in     the    country     are    controlled     by 

genius  was  inner-directed.  Our  greal  lower  mid-  gentlemen;   the  world  of  the  arts,  of  the  uni 

die-class    writers,    Dickens    and    Wells,    belonged  veisilies,    ol    the    educated    puss,    of    the    refined 

to  the  South.     There  have  nevei    heen  any  work-  entertainments,    ol    leaching,    ol    administration, 

ing-class  writers  in  England.  are  all  controlled  by  gentlemen.  Theii  sensibility 

And  dining  this  century,  ol  course,  literature  is  dominant;  there  is  no  other  sensibility.   Before 

has    retreated    up   the   social    ladder,    All    our  an  Englishman  feels  ready  to  think    nol  merely 

authors  are  public -school  hoys    Waugh,  Greene,  to  express  himself    but  to  think  about  more  than 

Auden,  Isherwood,  Connolly,  even  Orwell.   Pub-  local   matters,   he   must    recast    himself   in    thai 

lie-school    hoys    c; ol     belong    Io    any    locality.  mold.     More    usually,    he    will    lind    he    has    heen 

They  are  "British,"  gentlemen,  ruling  class.    The  so  molded  from  the  age  ol  eleven. 

bulk    ol    the   population,   after    its   one    heave-  Foi    nowadays  gentlemen  are  not,  of  course, 

toward    speech    in    the    nineteenth    <  c  i  il  in  y,    lias  I  hose  horn  into  <  ei  lain  families  01    large  incomes. 

sunk  back   into  silence.  I    think    thai    in    no    country    in    the    world    is    a 

rhe  one  exception  to  this  is  again  D.  II.  Law-  careei   so  open   to  talents  as  in   England   now. 

renre.    lie  is  the  one   writer  of  this  cenliny   who  Ccnl  Iciucn  are  in  Tail  an  intellectual  aiislocracy; 

is   not    "British";    he    is    the   one    writer    who    has  and  yet   ihey  remain  at    the  same  I  ime  essenl  ially 

seen    and    taken    seriously    the    British;    hi'    is    the  a  social  class. 

one    who    has,    01    could    have,    given    a    voice    to  I  low    this    can    be,    the    process    by    which    the 

these  other  parts  of  the  population.    And    he   is  class  is  selected   and   trained    I    may  perhaps   bus  I 

the  exception   who  proves  the   rule.    Despile   the-  illustrate    by    my   own    case.     I    was    born    into    a 

amazing  extensions  of  vision  and  technique  be'  working-class  family,  none  of  whose  members,  on 

introduced    in   the   novel,   no   writer  since   has  eithei  side,  had  been  even  to  secondary  school; 

made  use  ol    them,      think   how   many  have   used  but  at  eleven   I   look  an  examination  which  every 


66 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


child  in  the  country  now  takes,  and  was  sent 
free  to  the  county  grammar  school.  Approxi- 
mately the  top  10  per  cent  in  that  examination 
go  to  the  grammar  school,  and  the  yeai  ly  intake 
is  divided  into  three  classes,  again  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  ability,  so  that  the  children  I  competed 
against  during  my  school  career  were,  theo- 
retically,  the  brightest  3  per  cent  of  my  contem- 
poraries. And  we  competed  in  a  way  that  an 
American  would  scarcely  imagine,  perhaps.  At 
the  end  of  each  term  we  were  arranged  in  order, 
from  first  to  thirtieth,  in  each  subject,  and  again, 
from  first  to  thirtieth  in  the  form.  All  this 
is  mostly  pedagogy,  ol  course,  but  it  has  its 
educational  effect,  too.  It  magnifies  the  intel- 
lectual process  in  our  eyes,  fosters  a  quick-witted 
apprehension  and  manipulation  oi  lads,  and  a 
disrespectful  familiarity  with  areas  ol  know  ledge 
and  systems  ol  thought;  but  above  all,  it  makes 
us  extraordinarily  malleable,  in  our  deepest 
imaginations,  by  the  teacher. 

The  grammar-school  teacher  in  England  is  a 
very  important  person,  much  more  so,  both  for 
the  influence  he  has,  and  lor  the  tradition  he 
represents,  than  the  high-school  teacher  in 
America.  His  level  of  intelligence  and  education 
is  high,  especially  teachers  in  the  arts  subjects, 
who  are  often  Oxford  and  Cambridge  graduates; 
a  good  number  of  our  writers,  painters,  musi- 
cians, thinkers,  have  been  grammar-school 
teachers  at  the  beginning  of  their  careers.  In 
America  the  same  men  would  be  university 
teachers.  They  more  than  anyone  else  in  our 
lives  represent  to  that  top  10  per  cent  in  the 
grammar  schools  the  maturely  intelligent  man, 
give  our  minds  their  mildly  academic  cast,  set 
that  stamp  on  the  national  type.  The  grammar- 
school  teacher  is  the  key  symbol  of  modern 
Britain,  the  modern  John  Bull,  in  his  armchair, 
in  a  tweed  sportscoat,  with  leather-patched 
elbows,  smoking  and  reading.  He  is  shabbier, 
more  resigned  than  the  "Britisher"  described 
before,  but  under  the  domination  of  the  same 
idea— what  he  is  reading  is  probably  Evelyn 
Waugh  or  Dorothy  Sayers.  His  great  emblem  is 
the  pipe,  with  all  its  connotations  of  relaxed, 
shrewd,  twinkling,  masculine  geniality;  he  has 
had  and  given  up  larger  ambitions;  he  is  the 
onlooker  at  lite,  very  good  at  crossword  puzzles, 
the  piano,  and  carpentry;  he  knows  a  great  deal. 
To  the  bright  boy  from  a  poor,  uneducated 
home,  he  is  the  all-obliterating  symbol  of  clever, 
authoritative,  gentle,  correct  manhood. 

A  good  example  of  the  type,  and  the  pro- 
found influence  he  exerts,  is  Mr.  Holmes  in 
Isherwood's   Lions   and   Sfiadoius.     Mr.    Holmes 


was  a  public-school  teacher,  but  the  difference 
is  not  important.  The  state  grammar  schools  are 
avowed  imitations  of  the  public  schools.  The 
majority  ol  them  were  set  up  in  consecpience  of 
the  Education  Act  of  1911,  when  it  must  have 
seemed  there  was  no  better  model.  The  house 
system,  the  prefect  system,  the  emphasis  on 
games,  the  idea  of  school  spirit,  all  these  are 
transplants  from  the  public  school.  In  one  pro- 
found  sense  they  are  doomed  to  defeat,  because 
the)  are  not  boarding  schools,  and  the  homes  the 
children  go  back  to  each  day  have  no  sense  of 
special  privilege  and  responsibility,  so  the  hot- 
house atmosphere  necessary  for  a  private  social 
code  is  broken  open  and  dissipated.  So  while  the 
grammar  school  turns  out  gentlemen,  they  are 
in  a  depressed,  deprecatory,  slightly  charlatan 
modern  mode;  because  almost  the  primary  fact 
in  the  consciousness  of  staff  and  bright  boys  is 
that  their  schools  are  not  public  schools. 

MA  KE-BELIE  VE 

ON  E  extra-curricular  activity  deserves 
special  mention,  the  debating  club.  De- 
bates in  English  schools  are  over  ordinary  topics, 
like  "Can  any  good  come  of  war?"  etc.  What  is 
extraordinary  is  the  excess  of  formality  and  lack 
of  sincerity.  We  begin,  after  all,  at  thirteen,  long 
before  the  topics  could  mean  much  to  us,  and 
before  discussion,  let  alone  debate,  could  be  a 
natural  activity.  The  aim  is  openly,  successfully, 
exclusively,  to  sharpen  our  wits.  Quite  often,  for 
example,  we  have  frankly  fantastic  subjects  like 
"That  this  house  believes  in  Father  Christmas," 
and  they  are  argued  just  as  acutely,  just  as  elabo- 
rately, with  the  same  formal,  self-conscious 
politeness.  This  influence  continues  through  the 
years  at  the  university.  The  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge Unions  are  much  the  largest  under- 
graduate organizations;  the  post  of  President  of 
the  Union  is  a  very  high  recommendation  in  the 
outside  world;  and  the  emphasis  is  again  on  bril- 
liant manipulation  of  the  rules  of  debate,  and 
of  the  essential  paradox  of  the  situation.  For  the 
situation  is  essentially  make-believe,  but  must  be 
taken  seriously  up  to  a  point— and  not  beyond. 
This  is  the  essence  of  "civilization"  as  the  word 
is  used  in  England.  Mr.  Derek  Colville,  in  his 
article  in  Harper's  October  issue,  mentions  the 
precocious  sophistication  of  English  undergrad- 
uates. The  debate  is  a  good  example  ot  the 
influences  that  cause  that  sophistication;  it  is 
sophistry,  in  the  full  Greek  sense. 

Finally  let  us  mention  the  Sixth  Form.    The 
Sixth   (another   legacy   of   the  public  school)   is 


THE     IRON     CORSET     ON     BRITAIN'S     SPIRIT 


67 


quite  different  from  any  other  form  in  the  school, 
and  has  a  powerful  mystique.  Boys  in  the 
Sixth  are  given  many  privileges,  exempted  from 
many  rules,  have  their  own  library  and  study, 
free  periods  to  work  by  themselves;  most  of  them 
become  prefects,  responsible  for  the  discipline 
of  the  rest  of  the  school;  they  are  grown-up  (in 
official  theory,  of  course);  they  become  (again  the 
practice  is  not  exactly  like  the  theory)  intellectual 
equals  of  the  teachers,  initiates  of  the  port-wine, 
pipe-smoking,  Latin-tagging  society  of  the  staff- 
room.  They  are  taught  by  the  best  teachers  in 
the  school,  which  means  the  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge graduates,  the  most  genuine  gentlemen. 
The  classes  are  very  small,  as  few  as  three  or  four. 
They  are  taken  into  the  teachers'  confidence, 
which  does  not  mean,  as  it  might  here,  that  the 
teacher  interests  himself  in  the  boy's  private  life; 
in  England  the  movement  is  in  the  reverse 
direction,  and  the  ,boy  is  allowed  to  hear  the 
master's  frankest  comments  on  the  events  of  the 
day,  however  cynical  and  amoral  they  may  be.  I 
was  not  yet  fifteen  when  I  entered  the  Sixth,  and 
I  spent  three  years  in  that  intellectual  and 
spiritual  forcing  house.  By  eighteen  I  was  a 
gentleman,  beyond  hope  of  reprieve. 

I  had  been  radically  separated  from  my  home 
and  relations;  not  by  any  crude  snobbery,  but 
by  a  genuine  and  inevitable  introduction  into 
a  new  mental  world,  with  all  sorts  of  tastes  and 
desires.  I  had  slid  over  from  Gracie  Fields  to 
Anthony  Eden.  Of  course  I  wasn't  the  "Brit- 
isher" I  described  before.  Nobody  could  be  that 
flagrant,  except  abroad.  I  saw  through  Lord 
Peter  Wimsey  at  sixteen.  But  I  remained  a 
subdued,  self-conscious,  negative  variant  on  him, 
because  it  never  occurred  to  me  there  was  any 
other  way  to  be.  For  a  sensitive,  intelligent 
person. 

Most  of  the  boys  in  the  Sixth  go  on  to  the 
universities  (under  2  per  cent  of  their  age. group) 
and  their  expenses,  for  living  as  well  as  fees,  are 
completely  paid  by  the  state.  I  spent  three  years 
reading  English  at  Cambridge,  three  years  of  a 
minimum  of  external,  formal  control,  but  per- 
haps stricter  informal  control  than  I'd  have  had 
at  an  American  university.  Attendance  at  lec- 
tures was  not  checked,  or  even  much  desired,  nor 
did  one  write  papers  for  the  lectures;  I  went  once 
a  week  to  a  supervisor,  who  told  me  frankly  he'd 
be  better  pleased  if  I  would  stay  away,  and  wrote 
three  or  four  essays  a  term  for  him,  strictly  when 
/  felt  like  it.  There  were  no  grades.  All  one  had 
to  do  was  prepare  for  the  final  exams;  copies  of 
old  papers  were  available;  books  were  available 
in  the  libraries;  and  there  was,  we  were  always 


reminded,  all  the  brilliant  conversation  in  the 
world. 

The  emphasis  was  on  general  education,  on 
wisdom.  For  British  students  the  university  is 
merely  the  crystallization  of  the  ideal  com- 
munity yearned  after  by  their  school  teachers. 
That  is  the  extraordinary  glamor  of  Oxford  and 
Cambridge,  their  unreality,  the  way.  one  knows, 
long  before  one  gets  there,  that  it  will  soon  be 
over,  and  that  one  will  always  yearn  back  to  it; 
three  golden  years  when  every  unpleasant  fact  is 
excluded,  and  only  the  pleasant  facts  count,  in- 
telligence, manners,  high  spirits,  charm,  wit, 
beauty. 

At  twenty-one,  with  my  B.A.  from  Cambridge, 
I  faced  the  world  completely  transformed,  a 
gilded  youth;  knowing  it  was  gilt,  but  the  best 
gilt,  and  wasn't  that  better  than  bare  tin?  I 
stood  in  a  small  group,  a  minute  percentage  of 
my  contemporaries,  who  practically  monopolized 
all  the  best  jobs  in  the  British  Council,  the 
Foreign  Service,  UNESCO,  the  BBC,  the  Colonial 
Service,  the  administrative  grades  of  the  Civil 
Service,  teaching,  the  universities,  publishing, 
the  educated  press,  the  Church,  the  Army,  Navy, 
and  Air  Force,  all  the  vantage  points  from  which 
our  manner  and  our  mind  could  impress  them- 
selves on  the  country  and  the  world  as  the  edu- 
cated way  to  be,  as  "Britain." 

Besides  which,  there  are  other  systems  which 
produce  gentlemen.  Those  born  into  the  right 
families  and  incomes,  those  who  go  to  the  public 
schools,  become  the  real  thing  much  less  self- 
consciously. The  provincial  universities,  unable 
to  be  anything  different  from  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge, produce  their  own  slightly  more  de- 
pressed, deprecatory,  and  charlatan  gentlemen. 
The  training  for  medicine  and  law— for  all  the 
professions— gives  the  manner.  Music  and  the 
theater  demand  it  from  their  members;  Sir 
Thomas  Beecham,  Sir  Malcolm  Sargent,  Sir 
Laurence  Olivier,  Sir  John  Gielgud  are 
thoroughly  gentlemen.  And  indeed  everyone  in 
the  country,  from  the  crudest  social  climber  to 
the  most  sensitive  seeker  of  education  and  dis- 
tinction, is  bound  to  ape  it  sooner  or  later. 

T  H»E    DEAD    SHELL 

AL  L  of  which  wouldn't  be  half  so  tragic 
if  the  "British"  mind  weren't  dead,  no 
longer  able  to  deal  adequately  with  reality,  its 
modes  of  apprehension  a  dead  shell,  an  old  skin 
to  be  sloughed.  This  became  vivid  to  me  the 
other  day  at  "The  Colditz  Story"— the  story  of 
a  German  prison  camp,  written  by  one  of  the 


68 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


inmates,  and  made  into  a  movie  with  actors 
of  considerable  ability  and  training,  Eric  Port- 
man  and  John  Mills— which  yet  presented  the 
(..  rmans  as  .ill  gross  and  Goeringish,  oi  rat-like 
.is  Goebbels,  all  violent  and  overbearing  and 
humorless,  and  the  British  as  all  light-hearted 
and  clean-limbed,  boyish,  larking  about,  ruffling 
their  hair,  baffling  then  captors  l>\  their  irre- 
sponsible good  humor.  1  here  is  no  echo  ol  the 
realitj  61  war— no  binl  <>l  real  hatred,  real  bore- 
dom, real  terror,  real  cruelty— only  school-boy 
magazine  equivalents.  There  is  no  reality  in  the 
relations  between  the  English  prisoners;  not 
even  the  transmuted  echo  oi  thai  realit)  caught 
in  "Stalag  17,"  a  more  simply  comic  film.  In 
even  i  second-rate  American  actor  \<>u  leel  the 
allusion  to  the  unspoken  parts  oi  Ins  personality 
—the  gross,  the  sensual,  the  brutal.  Bui  in  these 
sketches  there  is  no  allusion,  it  is  all  neatly 
excised,  and  you  are  lefl  with  something  .is  diy 
and  sweel  as  a  whifl  ol  lavender,  as  near  a  human 
being  as  a  fashion  sketi  li  of  1910. 

Ihe  British  mind  has  nol  yel  assimilated  the 
fit  si  world  war,  never  mind  the  second.  The  line 
between  officers  and  men  makes  both  groups 
unreal  to  the  imagination,  forces  them  into  false 
categories,  the  gentlemen  and  the  sons  ol  toil, 
with  neither  ol  whom  can  anyone  wholly  identify 
himself.  I  said  before  only  the  character  with 
the  BBC  acceni  is  taken  seriously.  I  should  have 
said  most  seriously.  In  fact  any  mode  of  speech 
in  England  is  an  accent,  suggesting  a  type,  with 
all  its  limits,  weaknesses,  sterilities.  Marlon 
Brando  or  Montgomery  Clifl  <  .w\  play  someone 
of  the  poorest  class  and  education  in  such  a  way 
that  you  can  forget  those  facts;  you  don't  have 
to  forget  them,  you  are  never  really  conscious  of 
them.  That's  just  what  can't  be  done  in  England. 
I  hat  is  why  an  artist  can  produce  only  a  gross 
caricature  ol  war;  or,  ol  course,  an  essentially 
private  picture.  He  can't  unself-consciously  live 
the  life  ol  the  people  involved.  Wilfred  Owen's 
and  Robert  Graves'  protests  against  the  complete 
failure  in  England  to  understand  what  the  wai 
was  are  fully  valid  today,  down  to  details.  The 
heroic  lies  ol  1914  were  not  told  again  in  1939, 
but  we  had  only  the  deprecatory  humor  oi 
Mrs.  Miniver  instead.  Hemingway's  and  Dos 
Passos'  protests  in  America  were  much  more 
effective;  fames  [ones  and  Norman  Mailer  had 
at  least  learned  that  lesson.  The  second  world 
war  was  presented  to  America  as  war.  But  in 
England  the  injunction  against  shouting  was 
Stronger  than  the  need  to  capture  and  express 
vital  expei  ieiH  e. 

Moreover  the  failure  of  a  British   film,  one 


made  with  talent,  like  "The  Colditz  Story,"  is 
mu(  h  more  serious  than  the  failure  of  the  equiva- 
lent  in  America  is.  Eric  Portman,  Kenneth 
Moie.  John  Mills  talk  and  chess,  and  I'm  sure 
think,  much  more  like  an  MP.  an  cclitoi  ol  the 
Times,  a  BBC  announcer,  than  John  Wayne 
does   his  equivalents.    It   doesn't    much   mallei    if 

fohn  Wayne  is  absurd.  Nobody  is  supposed  to 
take  him  seriously.  He  in  no  sense  represents 
the  educated  mind  ol  his  country.  Eri<  Portman 
does.  \t  the  end  ol  the  film,  as  British  com- 
manding officer,  he  brings  a  courtyard  of  bois- 
terous soldiers  to  order  with  two  quiet  words, 
leads  them  a  message  from  escaped  comrades,  in 
cool  defiance  ol  the  Germans  standing  l>\,  and 
walks  aua\  from  the  camera  o\c-r  the  cobble- 
stones, hands  in  pockets,  melancholy,  distin- 
guished, omniscient,  and  everyone  in  the  court- 
yard,  and    the  cinema,    is  obviousl)    supposed    to 

watch  in  quite  tense  admiration  and  sympathy— 
thins  seconds'  worth.  And  yet  I'd  swear  no 
intelligent  Englishman,  ol  whatever  education, 
could  honestly  leel  that  sympathy.  It's  too  old  a 
trick,  too  obvious,  too  self-satisfied.  loo  old  a 
trie  k  in  life  as  well  as  in  the  films. 

lint  we  will  noi  reject  it  in  life.   We  know  it's 

a  trick  hut  we  don't  see  anything  else  more 
genuine.  The  "British"  mind  works  in  self- 
conscious  cliches,  as  a  conversational  technique, 
and  in  the  large  dramatic  matters,  lose-,  war, 
duty.  It  must  surely  have  puzzled  Americans 
that  young  English  people,  graduates  ol  uni- 
versities, talk  and  act  like  characters  out  of 
Agatha  Christie.  But  to  us  all  the  possible 
varieties  ol  behavior  are  neatly  categorized,  all 
t luit  weakness  and  absurdities  equally  well 
known;  to  choose  any  other  than  the  "British" 
would  he  pointless,  unless  one  is  a  "character." 
It's  anothei  part  ol  the'  feeling  at  the  university 
I  mentioned,  that  all  the  important  possibilities 
have  been  explored  and  measured;  there  is  only 
the  rather  amusing,  rather  interesting,  i  at  her 
touching,  left. 

THE     WORLD     AS     HELL 

OF  COU  RS  E,  ihe  "British"  mind  has 
been  active  since  HMO.  Hut  I  suggest  that 
its  development  has  been  dominated  by  a  dis- 
covery of  the  religious  approach  to  life.  -More 
spec  ifically,  the  religious  retreat  from  life. 

The  dominant    figure   lor  most   of  this  period, 
alter  all,   has  been   T.  S.    1. licit.     The  only  oihei 

prophel  e>!  equal  size,  I).  II.  Lawrence,  has  been 

neglected  precisely  in  measure  as  he  stood  in  the 
opposite    direction    from    Eliot.     Eliot's   success 


THE     IRON     CORSET     ON     BRITAIN'S     SPIRIT 


69 


is  the  same  thing  as  Lawrence's  neglect.  The 
movement  of  the  'thirties  was  a  failure,  from 
every  point  of  view.  Our  themes  have  been  and 
are  Sin,  Doubt;  Catholicism,  Horror,  the  Limits 
of  Human  Goodness;  our  whipping  boys  have 
been  enthusiasts,  liberals,  optimists,  Noncon- 
formists (as  opposed  to  Anglicans).  We  have 
learned  to  see  the  world  as  hell  a  la  Greene,  and 
hell  a  la  Waugh.  Nobody  has  shown  us  a  per- 
son we  can  admire  and  love  dealing  with  life  in 
a  way  we  can  admire  and  love. 

The  English  imagination  has  been  dominated 
by  a  feeling  of  death,  decay,  and  hopelessness, 
and  by  an  aspiration  to  style  and  elegance.  These 
feelings  have  of  course  been  fed  by  recent  his- 
tory, particularly  in  its  impact  on  Britain's 
economic  and  international  position.  Their 
effects  can  be  seen  in  a  glance  at  the  cultural 
map.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  remarkably 
anti-American,  pro-French  orientation  of  most 
cultured  British  people.  Writers  of  the  kind  the 
British  call  brilliant— like  Wyndham  Lewis  and 
Iris  Murdoch— are  always  the  extreme  exponents 
of  this;  Lewis'  novel  Self-condemned  is  patho- 
logical in  its  virulence  against  the  New  World 
and  its  yearning  after  the  wit  and  clarity  and 
irony  of  France.  The  most  important  vein  of 
feeling  is  that  which  runs  from  Eliot  to  Graham 
Greene,  Angus  Wilson,  Evelyn  Waugh,  and 
those  like  him;  in  Greene  the  feeling  of  death  is 
strongest;  in  Waugh,  Anthony  Powell,  Nancy 
Mitford,  William  Plomer,  Sybille  Bedford,  etc., 
the  love  of  elegance— the  Sitwells  have  the  same 
Palladian  aspiration.  A  complementary  line  o£ 
intellectual  agility  allied  with  avowed  cliches  of 
the  imagination  runs  from  TIte  Confidential 
Clerk  to  Charles  Williams,  C.  S.  Lewis,  Dorothy 
Sayers,  Agatha  Christie. 

All  these  writers  portray  gentlemen,  strip  them 
to  absurdity,  finally  swaddle  them  in  pity;  "they 
are  poor  things,  but  they  are  the  best  humanity 
can  do,  so  .  .  ."  There  are,  of  course,  other 
orientations  in  the  British  mind,  some  of  them 
opposite  in  tendency.  I  claim  only  that  the  one 
hinted  at  here  is  dominant. 

Only  this  can  explain  the  enthusiasm  over 
The  Outsider,  which  was  really  a  humiliating 
incident  for  an  Englishman.  The  reviews  unani- 
mously and  wholeheartedly,  with  real  generosity, 
praised  it;  they  welcomed  an  important  new 
writer.  Reading  them  abroad,  long  before  I 
could  get  hold  of  the  book,  I  thought  something 
important  had  happened.  Somebody  without 
any  of  the  required  training  and  manner  had 
broken  into  the  closed  circle.  Three  weeks  after 
the   book   was   reviewed   in    the  Sunday    Times, 


Wilson  himself  was  writing  for  the  paper.  His 
rise  was  meteoric  and  quite  unprecedented.  But 
by  the  time  I  was  a  third  of  the  way  through  the 
book  I  realized  the  true  explanation.  Wilson  is 
brilliant,  Bohemian,  eccentric,  the  genius.  He  is 
the  permitted  exception;  sleeping  on  Hampstead 
Heath  is  the  perfect  touch  for  him;  he  is  almost 
like  one  of  those  brilliant  young  Frenchmen. 
The  book  itself  is  inaccurate  in  detail  and 
fraudulent  in  method  to  the  point  of  being  very 
bad.  The  reason  these  things  were  not  detected 
by  the  reviewers  is  that  it  said  what  they  wanted 
to  hear;  it  justified  them;  it  accumulated  the 
evidence  of  all  the  great  spiritual  giants,  from 
Dostoevski  to  Sartre,  to  prove  life  today  impos- 
sible, normal  happiness  out  of  the  reach  of, 
beneath  the  dignity  of  the  sensitive  man.  Such 
words,  from  a  young  man  in  a  turtle-necked 
sweater,  who  never  went  to  a  university,  and 
sleeps  out  at  night  in  a  public  park,  are  exactly 
the  mark  of  the  one  non-"British"  mode  the 
"British"  will  accept. 

We  don't  even  want  to  be  shown  someone  we 
can  admire  and  love  dealing  with  life  in  a  way 
we  can  admire  and  love. 

THE    NORTH    IS    DIFFERENT 

WHEN  I  went  back  to  England  last 
summer— after  a  year  in  Turkey,  where 
I  had  seen  and  heard  only  "Britain,"  at  the 
Embassy  and  the  British  Council  and  in  the 
papers  and  books  and  on  the  radio  and  the 
screen— I  wandered  round  London  and  Cam- 
bridge and  the  great  monuments,  extremely 
depressed,  i  was  in  a  country  of  pygmies,  de- 
liberately affected  and  malicious.  And  then  sud- 
denly, without  forethought,  when  I  was  visiting 
Wigan  in  Lancashire,  I  became  aware  that  that 
feeling  no  longer  rang  true.  The  faces  and  voices 
of  the  people,  their  clothes,  the  buildings  in  the 
street,  the  atmosphere,  the  landscape,  none  of  it 
was  "Britain."  It  was  a  totally  different  country 
and  people.  "Britain"  after  all  was  a  very  small 
minority.  Wigan  was  one  huge  tuning  fork;  lay 
it  to  your  ear,  and  all  the  melodies  at  present 
playing  are  false.  If  only  our  writers  would  do 
that.  But  the  revelation  was  two-fold;  diese 
streets  and  people  had  their  own  note,  to  which 
you  could  tune  your  whole  instrument.  There  is 
a  positive  social  atmosphere,  a  kindliness,  a  sin- 
cerity, a  shrewdness,  stimulating  those  qualities 
in  you,  making  it  a  good  place  to  live.  If  this 
Northern  nature,  this  mode  of  being,  could  be 
educated,  without  being  made  "British,"  the 
English  mind  might  move  forward  again,  move 


70 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


freely,  begin  again  to  see  and  feel  things  freshly 
and  vigorously. 

It's  plain  enough,  I  think,  where  Evelyn 
W'augh,  Nancy  Mitford,  Angus  Wilson,  get  the 
note  they  tune  themselves  to,  the  key  in  which 
they  play:  the  stately  homes  and  the  great  public 
buildings.  It  makes  an  unpleasant,  affected 
treble.  It's  obvious,  too,  that  there  are  many 
working-class  neighborhoods  which  give  off 
their  own  note,  quite  different  from  that  of 
Wigan.  I  make  no  case  for  "the  people";  I  am 
more  interested  in  the  intellectual  aristocracy. 
If  I  attack  them,  it  is  not  for  being  an  aristocracy, 
but  for  being  a  bad  one,  feeding  their  vitality 
from  meager,  polluted  streams.  There  is  no 
reason  to  suppose  working-class  places  are  in 
general  better  than  others.  The  suburbs  of  Lon- 
don, and  the  new  towns,  and  all  Surrey  and 
Hertfordshire,  most  of  the  South  of  England, 
have  their  own  note,  one  that  our  writers  have 
caught  well,  Eliot,  Auden,  Greene,  Spender, 
MacNeice,  etc.  There  more  than  anywhere  in 
the  world  the  mass  media  have  had  their  so  often 
prophesied,  so  often  lamented  effect;  everyone 
lives  in  the  arc-lamp  glare  of  the  Daily  Express 
and  the  Light  Programme  and  the  Ice  Rink  and 
the  Palais  de  Danse.  All  organic  life  is  killed,  and 
discriminating  people  weave  baskets  or  go  to  live 
in  .Majorca.  In  those  clean,  wide,  quiet  streets 
you  can  hear  that  note  very  clearly,  the  note 
of  conscious  smallness,  sameness,  separateness, 
"leave  me  alone  and  I'll  leave  you  alone." 

The  reasons  why  the  North  is  different  are  no 
doubt  complex,  but  one  may  point  out  that  the 
people  of  the  North  live  among  the  really 
dramatic  ruins  of  England.  The  castles  and 
abbeys  are  no  more  alive  to  the  imagination  than 
Hollywood  imitations,  but  those  northern  indus- 
trial towns  are  smoking  blackened  ruins  of  the 
great  thrust  of  energy  that  swung  the  world  on 
its  pivot,  flung  us  into  the  momentum  and  direc- 
tion we  are  trying  to  control  today.  These  are 
ruins  that  are  still  alive,  and  yet  are  soaked  in 
local  and  national  memories;  that  is  living  tradi- 
tion.   The  charm  of  the  English  countryside  is 


irredeemably  olde  worlde,  the  towns  are  too 
pretty  and  trivial,  the  history  is  hopelessly  in  the 
hands  ol  Olivier;  but  Wigan,  Preston,  Salford, 
keep  their  intensit)  and  freshness  of  impact, 
which  is  by  no  means  simply,  or  even  domi- 
nant!),  ugliness.  To  live  and  move  among  those 
buildings  is  to  be  held  to  a  highly  charged  bat- 
tery and  tested,  to  suffer  a  strongly  cauterizing 
touch  on  your  purposes  and  passions. 

It  is  there,  in  the  North  and  Midlands,  that 
British  people  can  still  be  serious  and  spon- 
taneous, lint  all  the  cleverest  children  every  year 
are  sent  to  school  to  be  made  "British,"  like  an 
offering  of  fust-born.  All  the  best  blood  is  fatally 
thinned.  England  must  break  its  dead  shell, 
slough  its  old  skin,  or  its  young  men  will  grow 
more  and  more  consciously  absurd,  their  minds 
will  grow  as  pretty  and  useless  as  Chinese  feet, 
more  and  more  they  will  have  nothing  but  will 
power  to  hold  them  together  and  make  them 
move  forward;  all  power  of  desire  and  response 
will  dry  up;  nothing  will  be  left  but  self-destruc- 
tive and  destructive  irony. 

Note:  The  editors  have  pointed  out  to  me  how  many 
important  writers  I  have  ignored.  Some,  Kingsley 
Amis,  George  Orwell,  F.  R.  Leavis,  I  regard  as  on  my 
side.  Some,  like  Elizabeth  Bowen,  Ivy  Compton- 
Burnett,  L.  P.  Hartley,  belong  to  the  glittering  train 
of  talent  pronged  by  Greene  and  Waugh.  Dylan 
Thomas,  as  far  as  England  is  concerned,  fits  into  the 
pigeonhole  "genius,"  which  is  a  sort  ol  emasculation 
chamber;  genius  is  related  to  responsibility  and 
trustworthiness  only  by  antithesis.  And  there  are 
many  I  don't  know  about,  or  don't  take  seriously. 
But  the  biggest  part  of  my  answer  refers  to  writers 
like  Joyce  Cary,  P.  H.  Newby,  C.  P.  Snow,  or  for 
that  matter  E.  M.  Forster,  all  of  whom  have  qualities 
and  interests  which  cannot  be  included  in  my  cate- 
gories. The  answer  is  that  their  differences  are  non- 
significant. They  are  merely  different,  merely  not 
typical  themselves;  they  accept  the  dominant  type 
as  dominant.  I  don't  say  they  may  not  be  acutely 
critical  of  it;  Forster  obviously  is;  but  he  can't,  cre- 
atively, imagine  any  alternative.  These  writers  don't 
represent  a  new,  vigorous  life-direction.  Consequently 
they  are  neither  for  nor  against  the  old  direction, 
and  in  an  analysis  like  this  they  are  subsidiary,  sub- 
ordinate. 


The  British  xuay  of  life  is  going  tlirough  a  change— perhaps  the  most  disruptive  change  in 
two  centuries.  As  Mr.  Green's  article  suggests,  tlie  moral  and  intellectual  leadership  of 
the  traditional  ridling  class  is  now  being  seriously  challenged  for  the  first  time,  and  from 
many  sides.  One  assault  party  is  "The  Angry  Young  Men"— a  group  of  writers  such  as 
John  Osborne,  Kingsley  Amis,  John  Wain,  and  Kenneth  Tynan.  An  entirely  different  group 
is  questioning  the  management  of  that  sacred  institution,  The  Royal  Family.  And  re- 
cent   by-elections    have    indicated    a    spreading  disgust  with  both  the  major  parties. 

The  underlying  causes—so  far  almost  unreported  in  this  country— are  diagnosed  with  a 
sharp  scalpel  by  Norman  MacKenzie  in  "The  English  Disease"  which  will  appear  in  an 
early  issue.— The  Editors 


By  ALVIN   L.    SCHORR 

Drawings  by  Sheila  Greenwald 


Families  on  Wheels 


How  do  trailer  families  live?  What  keeps 

them  on  the  move?  What  kinds  of  citizens  do 

they  make?  A  man  who  has  worked  with  them 

and  knows  them  gives  surprising  answers. 

THERE  is  a  little  poem  in  Clarence  Day's 
Thoughts  Without  Words  which,  when  it 
was  written,  must  have  struck  many  American 
men  as  singularly  apt.  It  goes  as  follows: 

Who  drags  the  fiery  artist  down? 
Who  keeps  the  pioneer  in  town? 
Who  hates  to  let  the  seaman  roam? 
It  is  the  wife.    It  is  the  home. 

Today,  however,  neither  the  contemporary 
wife  nor  the  contemporary  home  answers  to  this 
complaint.  The  wife  travels  as  far  and  as  fast 
as  her  husband,  and  home  is  where  they  find 
themselves,  frequently  in  the  compact  epiarters 
of  a  trailer  hitched  to  the  back  of  the  family  car. 

The  total  number  of  "trailer  families"  in 
America  today  has  been  estimated  at  upwards 
of  one  million— two  out  of  every  three  families 
where  the  husband  is  a  construction  worker  or 
overseer.  My  own  contact  with  some  of  them 
began  in  February  1954  when  the  Atomic  Energy 
Commission  began  to  build  a  uranium-separa- 
tion plant,  to  cost  one  and  a  quarter  billion 
dollars,  in  southern  Ohio's  Pike  County. 

With  the  plant's  peak  employment  estimated 


at  26,000,  and  adding  in  the  workers'  families 
and  new  businessmen  and  professionals  who 
would  be  drawn  to  the  region,  we  estimated  that 
the  population  of  the  "atomic  area"— 180,000  in 
1950— would  very  nearly  double.  Fearful  of  what 
this  could  mean  both  to  the  community  and  the 
newcomers,  the  Family  Service  Association  of 
America  sent  in  a  staff  to  set  up  a  family-counsel- 
ing service. 

We  brought  with  us  the  popular  assumption 
that  a  family's  movement  from  one  place  to 
another  is  either  itself  caused  by  or  causes  dis- 
turbed family  relationships.  And  we  came  to 
Pike  County  grimly  prepared  to  do  our  best  to 
cope  with  titanic  physical  problems,  and,  still 
more  sinister,  with  an  astronomically  rising 
divorce,  delinquency,  and  crime  rate. 

As  it  turned  out,  only  our  expectations  of  the 
physical  difficulties  were  confirmed.  New  houses, 
new  sewage  systems,  new  water  supplies,  and 
new  roads  were  desperately  and  immediately 
needed.  At  the  same  time  that  more  and  more 
people  were  trying  to  drive,  more  and  more  high- 
ways were  being  torn  up  and  relaid.  Communi- 
ties of  only  a  few  hundred  inhabitants  found 
themselves  passing  half-million-dollar  bond  issues 
for  schools,  hospitals,  water,  and  sewage  plants. 
Mud  and  dust  settled  over  the  countryside  as 
housing  went  up  and  sewers  went  down. 

But  in  the  two  years  that  our  service  was  in 
operation  in  the  area,  only  250  families  sought 
our  help— no  more  than  a  new  agency's  limited 
staff  in   any  established   community   might   see. 


Tl 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


And  their  problems  were  almost  identical  with 
the  problems  the  Family  Service  Association 
meets  most  often  in  its  260  member  agencies 
throughout  the  country— husband-wife  and 
parent-child  relationships,  economic  difficulties, 
individual  personality  adjustment  problems,  and 
physical  illness,  in  that  order.  Furthermore, 
there  were  as  many  old-timers  as  newcomers 
among  the  250.  The  only  families  whose  prob- 
lems could  accurately  be  said  to  have  been  caused 
by  their  moving  were  the  lew  who  ran  out  of 
money  because  of  illness,  unemployment,  or 
accident  and  who,  since  they  were  in  a  strange 
community,  had  no  friends  to  turn  to. 

It  was  the  construction  workers,  the  true 
transients,  who  interested  us  most.  Local  busi- 
nessmen discovered,  to  their  frank  surprise,  that 
they  were  good  credit  risks  with  a  strong  sense 
of  community  pride.  After  a  yevu  and  a  half  the 
Court  divorce  investigator  in  Ross  County,  which 
adjoins  Pike,  could  recall  only  three  trailer 
families  out  of  the  hundred  or  more  petitioning 
for  divorce  whom  she  had  investigated.  Police 
officers  and  juvenile-court  judges  found  some 
crime  and  some  delinquency  among  them,  but 
they  were  unanimously  impressed  by  how  little 
there  was.  As  one  judge  put  it,  "It's  not  the 
trailer  children  but  our  own  who  are  giving 
us  the  trouble." 

Nor  was  this  region  peculiarly  lucky  in  its 
experience.  All  over  the  country  the  same  pat- 
tern has  been  repeating  itself.  In  Bucks  County, 
Pennsylvania,  for  example,  where  a  large  popu- 
lation influx  accompanied  the  Delaware  Valley 
industrial  development,  Don  J.  Hager,  a  sociolo- 
gist, observed,  "The  mobile  families  possess 
characteristics  that  are  generally  prized  by  all 
American  communities— sobriety,  occupational 
skill  and  reliability,  family  stability,  and  a 
genuine  interest  in  contributing  to  and  improv- 


ing the  community  in  which  they  live."  After  a 
study  ol  young  management  families  in  Park 
Forest,  Illinois;  Levittown,  Pennsylvania;  and 
similar  communities,  William  II.  VVhyte,  Jr., 
author  of  The  Organization  Mem,  wrote  in 
Fortune:  "Profound  as  the  consequences  of  mo- 
bility have  been,  the  one  most  expected  has  not 
come  about.  The  transients  are  not  plagued  by 
instability  and  loneliness."  And  the  Girl  Scouts 
of  America,  who  have  been  experimenting  with 
special  ways  ol  bringing  Scouting  to  mobile 
lainilies,  declared  in  their  annual  report  for 
1953,  "In  a  way  [these  families]  are  vagabonds, 
but  never  have  vagabonds  been  so  constructive, 
so  self-sufficient,  and  so  secure  financially." 

WHY    PEOPLE    MOVE 

TH  E  construction  workers  who  poured 
into  Pike  County  came  from  all  over  the 
country,  sent  mostly  either  by  unions  or  by  state 
employment  services— a  happy  arrangement 
which  brought  only  workmen  with  the  necessary 
skills.  In  general  they  were  young  families,  with 
a  high  proportion  of  small  children.  The  vast 
majority  lived  in  trailers  which  they  set  up  with 
speedy  efficiency  in  privately  run  trailer  parks. 
Many  had  been  moving  regularly  from  one  job 
to  another,  some  for  as  long  as  twenty  years. 

We  social  workers  were  curious  as  to  why  a 
family  would  choose  to  live  in  this  way.  The 
first,  obvious  answer  we  got  was  the  high  hourly 
pay  and  the  large  amount  of  overtime.  An 
itinerant  construction  worker,  we  found,  may 
earn  twice  as  much  as  a  settled  employee  with 
the  same  skill.  A  second  advantage  is  the  chance 
to  advance  more  quickly.  We  were  struck  by  the 
considerable  number  of  responsible  positions 
which  were  held  by  comparatively  young  men, 
and  some  of  them  told  us  that  they  had  delib- 
erately chosen  a  mobile  life  in  order  to  get 
experience  at  a  level  which  it  would  normally 
have  taken  them  years  to  reach. 

But  neither  of  these  reasons  seemed  to  us 
sufficient  to  explain  the  phenomenon.  Higher 
pay  can  be  balanced,  and  overbalanced,  by  the 
high  cost  of  living  in  a  construction  area.  Lay- 
offs between  jobs  and  the  expense  of  moving 
must  also  be  taken  into  account.  Trailer  living 
itself  is  not  so  cheap  as  it  appears  at  first  glance. 
Parking  in  a  trailer  park  costs  perhaps  $35  a 
month  for  water,  electricity,  and  other  services. 
The  trailer  itself  represents  an  investment  up- 
wards of  $6,000  and  has  a  life  expectancy  of  five 
years.  The  car  which  pulls  the  trailer  has  more 
than   an   ordinary   rate  of  depreciation.    There 


FAMILIES     ON     WHEELS 


73 


must,  we  ielt,  be  other  considerations  beyond 
money  and  experience  involved  in  these  families' 
decision  to  live  this  kind  of  life,  and  slowly  we 
came  to  discover  what  they  were. 

They  varied,  of  course,  with  individual 
families.  I  talked  to  one  man  who  had  made 
the  grand  circuit  for  over  a  decade— Los 
Alamos;  Hanford,  Washington;  Savannah  River, 
Georgia;  Paducah,  Kentucky;  and  southern 
Ohio.  At  one  point,  he  told  me,  he  decided  to 
settle  down  with  his  wife  and  two  children  in 
Mansfield,  Ohio.  He  had  a  good  job,  was  start- 
ing to  make  friends,  and  beginning  to  pay  off 
the  mortgage  on  a  house.  Then  he  realized  that 
he  was  getting  tied  tighter  and  tighter  to  his 
job.  If  he  was  treated  badly,  or  didn't  like  what 
he  was  given  to  do,  he  would  have  to  think  about 
the  costs  of  giving  it  up— the  loss  of  his  house 
and  friends,  the  cutting  of  commitments  he  and 
his  family  would  have  made.  He  went  back  to 
construction.  In  construction,  he  said,  if  you 
didn't  like  it,  you  could  pick  up  your  check  and 
leave. 

Another  man  who  puzzled  me  because  he  was 
pulling  out  of  the  Pike  County  project  while 
there  was  still  plenty  of  work  and  plenty  of 
overtime  explained,  "A  year  is  all  we  stay  in  one 
place."  He  couldn't  add  much  to  this,  but  as 
we  talked  I  got  the  impression  that  after  a  year 
he  and  his  wife  got  bored  and,  anticipating  some 
kind  of  personal  difficulty  between  themselves, 
preferred  to  be  busy  getting  used  to  a  new  place. 

According  to  Dr.  Jules  V.  Coleman,  clinical 
professor  of  psychiatry  at  the  Yale  School  of 
Medicine,  people  may  move  "because  they  hope 
to  find  a  more  comfortable  place  in  the  sun,  or 
because  they  are  reaching  for  the  moon.  They 
may  move  because  they  hate  where  they  are  and 
feel  any  other  place  would  be  better;  or  they 
are  afraid  to  stay  where  they  are,  feeling  another 
place  would  be  safer.  They  may  think  of  them- 
selves as  running  away  from  a  world  they  experi- 
ence as  cramping,  stifling,  limiting,  or  hostile; 
or  moving  toward  freedom,  adventure,  security." 

Many  new  families  in  Pike  County  confessed 
to  me  that  they  felt  like  pioneers.  Or,  as  an 
engineer  on  the  project  put  it,  "It  gets  in  your 
blood.   You  get  used  to  seeing  things  building." 

Escape  is  a  powerful  factor  in  some  families' 
decision  to  move— escape  from  an  unsuccessful 
job,  from  the  tedium  of  everyday  life,  or  from 
a  smoldering  problem  in  marital  relations. 
Escape  as  a  device  for  dealing  with  problems  is 
generally  frowned  upon  today.  But,  as  Dr.  Cole- 
man sees  it,  people  who  escape  may  also  be 
making  an  attempt  to  come  to  terms  with  their 


problems,  "to  begin  to  set  the  stage  for  a  life 
that  would  be  meaningful  to  them  in  their  own 
way.  .  .  .  Looked  at  in  this  way,"  he  continues, 
"they  appear  as  the  bolder  spirits,  seekers  and 
strivers,  expressing  their  discontent  with  lives 
of  fitful  dissatisfaction,  if  not  of  complete 
desperation,  with  a  step  of  positive  affirmation 
toward  creative  self-realization." 

To  be  sure,  there  is  a  kind  of  pathological 
family,  well  known  to  social  agencies,  churches, 
and  police  stations  across  the  country,  which  we 
social  workers  call  mobile-dependent— that  is, 
the  family  whose  dominant  pattern  is  escape. 
They  never  seem  to  make  much  progress,  they 
depend  on  the  generosity  of  whatever  community 
they  find  themselves  in,  and  when  reactions  to 
them  become  less  generous  and  more  question- 
ing than  they  were  at  first,  they  move  on.  My 
colleague,  Mrs.  Martha  Van  Valen,  made  a  study 
of  a  half-dozen  of  these  families  who  turned  up 
in  southern  Ohio.  Interestingly  enough,  one  of 
her  conclusions,  later  published  in  a  professional 
journal,  was:  "There  was  little  discernible  con- 
flict within  the  family  unit.  The  husband's 
authority  was  unquestioned,  and  family  ties  were 
exceedingly  close." 

These  families  are  a  good  bit  of  trouble  to 
each  community  they  are  in,  they  are  usually 
desperately  poor,  their  children  are  always  dirty 
and  frequently  hungry.  Nevertheless,  in  Mrs. 
Van  Valen's  and  my  experience,  they  struggle 
frantically  to  remain  a  family,  and  mobility  helps 
them  to  achieve  this.  If  they  did  not  continue  to 
move,  it  is  very  likely  that  their  problems  would 
intensify  and  the  family  itself  would  break  up. 

One  reason,  I  think,  that  mobility  is  so  often 
blamed  for  insecurity,  divorce,  delinquency,  and 
other  social  ills  is  the  difficulty  of  distinguishing 
between  many  factors  in  a  single  situation. 
Poverty  and  the  breakdown  of  family  relation- 
ships, for  example,  are  better  nominees  as  causes 
for  a  high  crime  rate  in  the  center  of  some  cities 
than  mobility,  which  is  also  characteristic  of  the 
population  of  these  areas.  Family  separation 
puts  more  of  a  strain  on  servicemen  than  the 
mobility  which  is  also  their  lot. 


74 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


In  any  case,  the  fact  remains  that  American 
l.imilies  today,  by  and  large,  are  on  the  move. 
The  trailer  families  continually  shifting  from 
one  community  to  another  arc  merely  the  ex- 
treme of  a  general  trend.  At  a  meeting  in 
Columbus,  Ohio,  not  long  ago  I  was  discussing 
this  situation  with  a  group  of  sociologists.  One 
of  them  elaborated  a  theory  that  increased 
mobility  has  resulted  in  shallow  relationships 
and  is  responsible  for  a  number  of  social  prob- 
lems. As  I  listened  to  him  I  got  the  uncom- 
fortable feeling  that  he  was  not  talking  about 
real  people  and  I  suggested  a  parlor  game  which 
interested  me  greatly  at  the  time.  Each  of  us 
present  told  how  long  we  had  been  living  in 
the  city  of  our  residence.  Our  average  length 
of  stay  turned  out  to  be  just  under  two  years. 

Last  year  33,100,000  Americans  changed  their 
residence.  The  majority  of  them  moved  from 
one  place  to  another  in  the  same  county  or 
helped  to  swell  the  great  exodus  from  city  to 
suburbs.  But  about  5,800,000  moved  to  another 
county,  and  over  five  million  more  crossed  state 
lines.  These  figures  fluctuate  from  year  to  year, 
but  for  the  past  decade  they  have  been  moving 
steadily  upward.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  one  little 
girl,  settling  down  with  her  family  in  a  suburb 
of  Washington,  rushed  in  to  report  excitedly  to 
her  mother,  "Guess  what,  the  girl  next  door  is 
from  1 1  ere!" 


LOSS     OF     THE     HOME     TOWN 

TH  E  present  surge  of  American  families 
from  one  area  to  another  started  with  the 
second  world  war  and  its  aftermath,  and  several 
factors  helped  to  stimulate  it.  As  a  result  of  the 
GI-Bill  well  over  two  million  veterans  went  to 
college.  Often  they  chose  colleges  away  from 
where  their  homes  had  been.  They  learned  to 
know  new  parts  of  the  country  while  they  were 


studying,  and  they  acquired  skills  that  put  them 
into  nation-wide  competition  tor  the  jobs.  As  a 
result  the  job,  not  its  location,  became  their  pri- 
mary consideration. 

At  the  same  time  the  multi-million-dollar  in- 
vestment in  research,  development,  and  produc- 
tion which  the  war  inaugurated  with  the  Man- 
hattan Project  became  a  fixed  part  of  American 
life,  requiring  the  massing  and  dispersal  of 
thousands  ol  families.  Simultaneously  American 
industry  began  to  promote  mobility  by  sending 
its  promising  young  men  from  one  plant  to 
another  as  a  regular  part  of  their  progress  up 
the  ladder  of  advancement.  This  is  now  so 
accepted  a  practice  that  George  Fry  and  Asso- 
ciates, management  consultants,  concluded  in  a 
recent  study  that  the  ideal  executive's  wife  today 
must  be  adaptable  to  change  "in  location,  in 
environment,  and  in  attitude." 

Whether  by  coincidence  or  in  the  process  of 
adjusting  to  these  requirements,  America  is 
now  turning  out  families  especially  suited  to 
frequent  movement.  Raising  children  and  earn- 
ing a  living  are  still  the  family's  primary  func- 
tions, but  for  many  years  now  a  man's  home 
and  his  place  of  work  have  not  been  the  same, 
and  modern  women— as  soon  as  their  children 
are  in  school— are  frequently  out  of  the  house 
too.  Baby-sitting  has  become  so  familiar  a  con- 
cept that  it  is  a  shock  to  realize  it  is  only  a 
generation  old.  The  births,  deaths,  nursing, 
funerals,  and  teaching  that  once  took  place  in 
the  home  have  moved  to  the  hospital,  the 
mortuary,  and  the  school,  ft  is  far  less  important 
than  it  used  to  be  to  have  a  "home  town." 

The  contemporary  American  family  is  also 
smaller  than  the  typical  American  family  of  the 
past.  Although  the  number  of  children  is  cur- 
rently rising,  grandparents,  aunts,  and  uncles  are 
seldom  included  in  the  family  unit  any  more. 
But  as  if  to  compensate  for  all  that  the  family 
has  given  up,  there  has  been  an  increased 
emphasis  on  a  deep  and  strong  relationship 
among  the  members  who  remain.  "Together- 
ness" is  the  order  of  the  day,  with  competence 
no  longer  strictly  a  masculine  attribute  nor 
tenderness  strictly  a  woman's.  The  result  is  a 
family  which  is  small  and  flexible,  which  relies 
on  outside  institutions  for  many  of  its  needs, 
which  deepens  the  emotional  resources  within 
its  membership,  and  which  can,  as  a  result,  travel 
light  and  intact.  "The  hope  is,"  writes  Dr.  Paul 
Lemkau  of  the  New  York  City  Mental  Hygiene 
Bureau,  "that  stronger  relationships  in  the 
family  will  help  to  substitute  for  some  of  the 
ancient  attachments  to  places  and  things." 


FAMILIES     ON     WHEELS 


75 


There  are  other  factors,  too,  which  help 
mobile  families  make  satisfactory  lives  for  them- 
selves, and  I  observed  many  of  these  in  southern 
Ohio.  First  of  all,  even  though  they  are  strangers 
to  each  other,  mobile  families  often  find  them- 
selves in  situations  where  they  share  a  strong 
sense  of  group  unity.  Similarity  in  age,  a  com- 
mon interest  in  making  a  home  and  bringing  up 
children,  and  the  absence  of  nearby  family  con- 
tacts bring  mobile  families  together  wherever 
they  find  themselves.  In  some  areas,  similarity  in 
job  status  and  union  or  organization  loyalty  are 
powerful  cohesive  forces.  In  every  area  there 
is  a  shared  feeling  of  facing  problems  directly 
and  mastering  them.  When,  through  a  con- 
fusion in  names,  the  family-service  agency  in 
Pike  County  offered  an  appointment  to  a  woman 
who  had  not  asked  for  one,  she  replied  politely, 
"Thank  you,  but  we  do  not  have  any  problems 
that  could  not  be  solved  with  a  bulldozer." 

Secondly,  mobile  families  have  learned  to 
identify  quickly  with  the  communities  to  which 
they  move.  I  was  astounded  to  see  how  rapidly 
the  trailer  families  in  Ohio  began  to  cultivate 
the  little  twelve-by-fifty-foot  plots  of  ground 
allotted  to  them  in  the  trailer  court.  Neat  wooden 
fences  were  built  to  separate  the  individual  plots; 
grass  covered  the  bare  earth  inside  the  fences; 
flower  gardens  and  small  shrubs  sprang  up. 
Many  families  spread  large  awnings  over  a  patio, 
thereby  doubling,  in  mild  weather,  the  usable 
living  area.  In  a  few  months  or  a  year,  when  the 
family  moved  on,  all  this  would  have  to  be  aban- 
doned. Yet  the  families  considered  that  the 
investment  was  worth  it  for  the  added  personal 
and  social  comforts  it  brought. 

Each  family,  according  to  its  inclinations, 
joined  the  local  Parent-Teachers  Association, 
the  Newcomers  Club,  the  Civic  Association,  or 
some  other  group  whose  interests  matched  its 
own.  And  this  settling  in  from  the  beginning, 
living  as  if  the  new  community  were  to  be  a  life- 
time home,  seems  to  be  the  typical  approach  of 
mobile  families  who  make  out  well. 

Much  has  been  made— often  by  people  who 
have  not  studied  the  facts  at  hand— of  the  dam- 
age frequent  or  constant  moving  can  do  to  grow- 
ing children.  Data  need  to  be  collected  on  this 
point,  but  in  my  experience,  if  the  parents  have 
come  to  terms  with  the  fact  that  they  are  mobile, 
and  make  no  apologies  for  it  either  to  them- 
selves or  to  others,  young  children  accept  moves 
as  an  expected  and  even  welcome  way  of  life. 
(Adolescents  are,  of  course,  another  matter.)  One 
of  the  men  in  southern  Ohio,  I  remember,  quit 
when  the  construction  was  nearing  completion, 


although  his  particular  job  would  have  lasted 
for  some  time.  At  least  one  reason,  he  said,  was 
that  his  six-year-old  boy  kept  pointing  out  that 
the  job  was  near  the  end  and  asking  him  why 
they  weren't  moving  on.  All  the  boy's  friends 
were  leaving,  and  he  wanted  to  go  somewhere 
else  and  make  new  friends. 


WESTWARD     HO 
WITH    A    DIFFERENCE 

IT  I S  often  said  that  the  family  mobility  we 
are  seeing  today  is  merely  an  extension  of  the 
mobility  which  has  always  been  a  characteristic 
of  the  United  States.  This  is  true  only  to  a  point. 
The  covered-wagon  families  that  settled  our 
frontier  were  large  families  who  carried  their 
civilization  with  them  and  who  went  to  stay. 
The  modern  family  depends  on  finding  civiliza- 
tion—schools, hospitals,  social  services— where  it 
goes,  or  on  having  the  community  organize  to 
provide  it.  And  it  is  geared  to  many  moves  rather 
than  merely  one. 

The  population  movement  of  the  mid-nine- 
teenth century  which  built  the  railroads,  logged 
the  forests,  and  opened  the  mines  was  a  move- 
ment of  single  men,  first-generation  immigrants 
mostly.  Those  who  had  families  left  them  behind 
and  took  these  jobs  because  they  could  find  no 
others.  "Bad  'cess  to  the  luck  that  brought  me 
through  to  work  upon  the  railway,"  ran  one  of 
their  popular  songs.  It  takes  a  different  order  of 
incentive  to  attract  the  skilled  people  who  staff 
our  modern  industries  and  services. 

According  to  Census  Bureau  studies,  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  today,  the  family  moves  as  a 
unit.  And  it  is  the  age  group  from  eighteen  to 
thirty-five  that  tends  to  move  most  often.  Per- 
haps in  part  because  of  this  age  factor,  families 


MAN-MADE  INDUSTRIAL  DIAMONDS: 


From  a  research  laboratory  project  \i 
1955  ...  a  promisin'g  new  business  \i 
1957.  Tiny  man-made  diamonds  (shovJ 
above,  mounted  on  a  needle)  were  a  labj 
ratory  achievement  two  years  ago.  Todai 
General  Electric  is  producing  diamond 
in  quantity  at  a  pilot  plant  in  Detroil 


Charles  Koebel  is  president  of  the  Koebel  Z> 
mond  Tool  Co.,  one  o)  many  firms  assured  op 
continuous  supply  of  diamond  abrasive  produi. 

Customers  get  new  values  from  research  ;|8 
development.  More  than  one-third  of  all  Genflfl 
Electric  products  now  being  made  for  hcB 
and  industry  did  not  even  exist  15  years  a|». 


J 


The  making  of  diamonds  by  General   Electric  is  one  example  of 
how  research  and  development  accelerate  the  nation's  progress 


Two  years  ago,  General  Electric  un- 
veiled tiny  man-made  diamonds— iden- 
tical with  nature's  —  as  a  "laboratory 
achievement."  Today  a  pilot  plant  is  pro- 
ducing these  diamonds  in  significant 
quantity  for  industrial  use. 

Industrial  diamonds  are  critical  to 
America's  productive  strength,  for  they 
are  needed  to  cut,  grind,  polish,  and  ma- 
chine metals  used  in  defense  equipment 
and  civilian  goods.  Now,  the  United 
States  can  look  forward  to  the  time  when 
it  will  not  have  to  rely  entirely  upon  a 
closely  controlled  foreign  supply. 

A  result  of  basic  research 

This  breakthrough  was  made  in  the 
General  Electric  Research  Laboratory, 
where  scientists  were  searching  for  fun- 
damental   knowledge    about    heat    and 


super-pressures.  After  four  years  of  re- 
search and  experimentation— and  dupli- 
cation of  the  "squeeze"  240  miles  inside 
the  earth— these  scientists  produced  dia- 
monds identical  in  every  way  with  those 
dug  from  the  earth. 

This  discovery  was  taken  up  by  de- 
velopment engineers  at  our  Metallurgi- 
cal Products  Department  in  Detroit;  in 
two  years  they  translated  the  laboratory 
achievement  into  a  useful  product,  pro- 
duced in  quantity  and  at  a  cost  low 
enough  for  commercial  application. 

Importance  of  profits  to  research 

At  General  Electric  today,  one  out  of 
every  13  people  is  a  scientist  or  engi- 
neer, and  the  work  of  research  and  de- 
velopment is  "carried  on  in  98  labora- 
tories. In  fact,  we  are  currently  investing 


over  three  times  as  much,  per  sales  dol- 
lar, in  research  and  development  as  the 
average  for  all  industry. 

Such  investments  in  research  and  de- 
velopment can,  of  course,  be  warranted 
only  when  there  is  opportunity  for  ade- 
quate profit.  Probing  the  scientific  un- 
known is  a  risky  and  uncertain  venture 
that  can  achieve  a  great  deab-or  nothing. 
One  of  the  important  functions  of  profit 
is  to  stimulate  those  ventures  which,  if 
they  turn  out  to  be  successful,  lead  to  the 
swiftest  progress. 

The  American  people,  by  encourag- 
ing local  and  national  policies  which 
provide  a  chance  for  earned  rewards 
can  stimulate  continued  high  levels  of 
research  and  development  .  .  .  and  thus 
assure  national  security  and  further 
progress  for  all  citizens. 


T^ogress  Is  Our  Most  Important  Product 


GENERAL 


ELECTRIC 


For  a  copy  of  an  address  by  Dr.  Guy  Suits, 
Vice  President  and  Director  of  Research  at 
General  Electric,  before  the  President's  Con- 
ference on  Research  for  the  Benefit  of  Small 
Business,  write Dept.  2J-1 19,  Schenectady, N. Y. 


ick  Mays,  an  employee  and  a  share  owner, 
is  a  better  job  — newly  created  at  General 
'ectric's  new  diamond-producing  pilot  plant. 

nployees  and  share  owners.  The  common 
terests  of  share  owners  and  employees  are 
rved  when  research  and  development  create 
ofitable  new  businesses  and  lead  to  new  jobs. 


Fred  Robinson  heads  the  English  &  Miller  Ma- 
chinery Co.,  which  supplies  General  Electric 
with  equipment  used  in  diamond  production. 

Small  businesses.  New  and  improved  products 
have  increased  the  number  of  General  Electric 
suppliers  to  over  42,000,  and  opened  business 
opportunities  for  400,000  independent  retailers. 


In  national  defense,  the  machining  of  metals  like 
those  needed  in  jet  aircraft  will  no  longer  de- 
pend solely  on  diamonds  available  from  abroad. 

All  citizens.  The  results  of  research  not  only 
help  keep  the  nation  strong  but,  like  Edison's 
discovery  of  the  electric  light  78  years  ago,  live 
on  and  continue  to  benefit  people  for  generations. 


78 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


with  children  are,  surprisingly,  more  likelx  to 
move  than  (host  without.  Each  year  about  one 
in  four  families  with  children  moves,  compared 
to  one  in  five  of  the  general  population  and  one 
in  seven  of  the  families  containing  adults  other 
than  the  married  couple.  The  chief  reason  for 
moving  is  so  that  wage-earners  can  take  another 
job,  and,  as  might  be  expected,  those  with  more 
education  tend  to  move  more  readih  than  those 
with  less.  Although  the  Western  part  of  the 
country  has  shown  the  greatest  population  gain 
and  the  South  the  greatest  loss  from  migration, 
the  movement  has  not  been  from  east  to  west  or 
south  to  north,  but  rather  back  and  forth  and 
around,  depending  on  individual  advantage  and 
preference. 

TlTe  impact  of  this  movement  has  already 
made  important  changes  in  our  social,  political, 
and  business  life.  It  has  shifted  the  political  bal- 
ance in  .many  areas,  given  new  significance  to 
trademarks  and  national  organizations  which 
people  can  recognize  wherever  they  are,  and 
dissolved  many  old  prejudices  in  the  solvent 
of  familiarity.  Rut  necessary  legal  changes- 
changes,  for  example,  which  would  prevent  six 
million  citizens  from  being  disenfranchised  as 
they  were  in  the  last  election,  because  they  had 
moved— are  a  great  deal  slower  in  coming. 

Paradoxically,  state  residence  laws  on  eligi- 
bility for  public  assistance  and  other  public 
welfare  programs  are  today  just  as  restrictive  as 
they  have  been  in  many  years— if  not  more  so. 
And  it  is  only  because  mobile  families  are 
usually  self-supporting  that  these  laws  have  been 
able  to  continue  for  so  long.  The  man  who  was 
asked  by  a  social  worker  to  name  his  home  state 
is  typical  of  many:  "Do  you  mean  where  I  was 
born,  where  I  live,  where  my  folks  live,  or  where 
I  last  voted?"  he  asked. 

Should  this  man  become  ill  or  unemployed, 


he  might  find  that  assistance  was  available  to 
him  only  in  some  place  he  had  left  long  before 
because  it  offeree!  him  no  opportunity— or  that 
no  assistance  at  all  was  available. 

Because  injustice  to  some  of  us  in  the  end 
concerns  all  of  us,  the  National  Travelers  Aid 
Association  last  \cai  adopted  this  statement  of 
principles:  "That,  as  a  matter  of  fundamental 
human  right,  an  individual  may  choose  the  place 
1  >c  st  suited  to  his  needs  as  his  place  of  residence: 
that  there  derives  from  this  the  right  of  the  indi- 
vidual to  move  freely  from  place  to  place  with- 
out hindrance  or  penalty;  that  a  person  who  lias 
exercised  the  right  of  lice  movement  should  be 
on  an  ecpial  looting  with  all  others;  that  human 
needs  such  as  food,  clothing,  shelter,  and  medical 
care  should  be  met  as  such,  regardless  of  whether 
the  pel  son  in  need  is  a  long-established  resident 
of  the  community,  a  newcomer  to  the  com- 
munity, or  in  transit  to  some  other  place.  .  .  ." 

Not  ever)  American  family  moves  regularly, 
frequently,  or  at  all,  but  every  family  lives  in  an 
atmosphere  in  which  movement  is  normal  and 
possible.  This  is  a  significant  change  even  for 
the  families  which  do  not  move.  For  some  it 
creates  anxiety,  for  others  excitement,  and  for 
many,  as  they  face  moving,  a  combination  of 
both. 

Early  in  1954  the  New  York  Times  reported 
independent  speeches  by  Dr.  Margaret  Mead 
and  Dr.  Luther  Gulick  about  the  mobility  which 
results  in  the  meeting  of  different  cultures.  Its 
words  may  be  appropriate  for  American  family 
mobility  as  well.  "Both  Dr.  Mead,  the  Mela- 
nesian  anthropologist,  and  Dr.  Gulick,  the  city 
administrator,"  said  the  Times  story,  "hit  by 
chance  upon  a  common  conclusion— in  any  cul- 
ture, the  infusion  of  new  ideas  and  new  people 
disrupts  things  for  a  while,  but  it  is  beneficial 
in  the  long  run." 


After  Hours 


Sp&ss 


ONE     WAY 

TO    GET    ELECTED 

TEARING  down  old  build- 
ings is  usually  a  better  political 
gimmick  than  propping  them  up,  as 
Mayor  Lee  of  New  Haven,  about 
whom  Harper's  ran  a  piece  last  Oc- 
tober, has  demonstrated.  Mayor  Lee, 
whose  program  to  modernize  his  city 
has  leveled  a  good  many  disreputa- 
ble nineteenth-century  structures, 
won  in  November  by  the  largest  ma- 
jority ever  recorded  in  his  city. 

Precisely  the  opposite  happened 
in  Bridgeport,  Connecticut. 

Bridgeport,  which  is  less  than  half- 
an-hour  from  New  Haven  and  just 
about  the  same  size  (roughly  160,000 
residents),  has  for  the  last  twenty- 
fours  years  had  a  Socialist  mayor, 
Jasper  McLevy.  He  was  determined 
to  tear  down  a  Gothic  mansion  that 
was  left  to  the  city  a  few  years  ago 
by  a  prominent  and  rich  old  man 
named  Archer  C.  Wheeler.  Indeed 
he  had  started  to  whittle  away  at  it. 
He  had  removed  the  doorknobs  of 
the  house,  demolished  the  green- 
house, and  he  had  removed  some  of 
the  ornate  walnut  staircase,  and 
stored  it  away.  When  election  day 
came  Mayor  McLevy  found  that  he 
had  been  nosed  out  of  office  by  160 
votes.  The  man  who  beat  him,  Judge 
Samuel  Tedesco,  in  an  interview 
with  the  Bridgeport  Telegram  said 
that  there  were  just  two  factors  that 
he  thought  contributed  importantly 
to  his  election:  one  was  the  Italian 


,  the  other  the  Wheeler  Mansion 
ervation  Association. 

"The  Wheeler  people  helped  me," 
he  said.  "They  really  did.  ...  I  made 
a  deal  with  them.  If  I'm  elected,  I 
told  them  they  would  have  a  chance 
to  take  over  the  mansion  and  see  if 
they  could  get  enough  money  to 
run  it." 

The  Wheeler  mansion  is  a  splen- 
did Gothic  Revival  house  designed 
by  Alexander  Jackson  Davis  and 
built  in  1846  for  a  prosperous  saddle 
maker,  Henry  K.  Harral,  who  subse- 
quently sold  it  to  the  Wheeler 
family.  Davis,  whose  reputation 
along  with  that  of  most  of  our  early 
nineteenth-century  architects  has 
been  buried  under  a  general  reaction 
against  American  Victorianism,  is 
now  being  justifiably  revived.  He 
was  one  of  our  most  distinguished 
and  versatile  architects  in  the 
decades  just  before  the  Civil  War, 
and  it  was  he  and  his  friend  the 
landscape  architect  and  writer, 
Andrew  Jackson  Downing,  who  con- 
vinced a  great  many  of  their  con- 
temporaries that  the  Gothic  style  was 
eminently  suited  to  the  American 
landscape.  There  was  a  clean  ele- 
gance about  his  buildings  which— 
unfortunately  for  the  looks  of  the 
landscape— very  few  of  his  followers 
achieved.  The  Wheeler  mansion  is 
certainly  one  of  the  handsomest 
domestic  buildings  of  its  time  and 
one  of  the  truly  fine  houses  in  the 
country. 

Archer  C.  Wheeler  died  at  the  age 
of  ninety-two  in  1956  and  left  the 
house  to  the  city  of  Bridgeport.  In 
his  will  he  said  that  it  was  his  "de- 
sire" that  it  be  used  as  a  museum  or 


library  or  as  classrooms  for  an  ad- 
joining high  school.  The  Wheeler 
family  had  taken  great  care  to  pre- 
serve the  mansion  inside  as  well  as 
out  in  its  original  style  of  elegant 
Victorianism,  and  the  house  was 
known  as  "Walnut  Wood"  because 
of  its  elaborately  carved  walnut 
staircase.  Mayor  McLevy  had  other 
notions  about  how  the  property 
could  best  serve  the  city.  He  wanted 
to  tear  the  house  down  and  on  its 
site  erect  a  nine-million-dollar  city 
hall.  A  little  distant  howl  went  up 
from  a  few  local  citizens,  some  archi- 
tectural historians,  and  a  few  others 
interested  in  preserving  the  monu- 
ments of  the  past.  But,  politically 
speaking,  it  was  unfortunate  that  a 
good  many  of  those  who  opposed 
razing  the  building  were  not  local 
people.  It  must  have  seemed  to  most 
folk,  as  it  most  surely  seemed  to 
Mayor  McLevy,  like  a  lost  cause 
from  the  start. 

He  underestimated  the  fighting 
spirit  of  a  group  of  preservationists 
at  bay.  They  fought  cleverly,  openly, 
and  with  all  of  the  usual  methods, 
including  legal  ones.  They  organized 
a  committee;  they  elicited  the  sup- 
port of  Richard  Howland,  president 
of  the  National  Trust  for  Historic 
Preservation.  They  corralled  the 
Society  of  Architectural  Historians, 
the  Antiquarians  and  Landmarks  So- 
ciety of  Connecticut,  and  the  Con- 
necticut League  of  Historical  Socie- 
ties. They  even  got  to  Governor 
Ribicoff.  Articles  appeared  in  An- 
tiques and  in  Time. 

Several  people  risked  their  city 
jobs  to  rally  support  for  the  house. 
Elizabeth  Seeley,  curator  of  Bridge- 


80 

Study   at   Home 
■w^itn.   the 


UNIVERSITY 
Of    CHICAGO 

FOR  THE  MATURE  ADULT  .  .  .  interested  in 
refreshing,  enlarging  your  frame  of  reference  at 
the    college    or    graduates    level  .     .    here    is    a 

unique  program  designed  to  provide  creative  recrea- 
tion   for   the   active,    inquiring     mind. 

NO  DEGREE  REQUIREMENTS  ...  150  courses 
for  adults  .  .  .  Mathematics  to  Creative  Writing 
.  .  .  Great  Books  to  Astronomy  .  .  .  Art  to  Invest- 
ments .  .  .  Psychology  to  World  Affairs.  Whether 
you're  self-educated  or  hold  a  degree  .  .  .  select 
only  the  subjects  of  greatest  personal  interest  to 
you  .  .  .  study  at  your  own  pace  in  fne  comfort 
of  your  own    home  .  .  .  earn  academic  credit. 

UNIQUE  —  INDIVIDUAL  INSTRUCTION  .  .  . 
Enjoy  a  conversation -by- mail  with  your  personal 
University  tutor,  in  a  provocative  free  flow  of  ideas 
...  in  courses  like  GOD.  FAITH.  AND  REASON 
.  .  .  SHORT-STORY  WRITING  .  .  .  HOW  TO 
LOOK  AT  THE  MOVIES  ..  .  UNDERSTANDING 
MODERN    ART. 

Over  100,000  Interested  and  Interesting 
People  have  enjoyed  the  University  Home- 
S'udy  Program  during  the  past  65  years  .  .  . 
you    are    invited    to    .     .     . 

Write  today  for  your  copy  of  the  Home-Study 
ANNOUNCEMENTS:  no  obligation,  of  course. 


The    Home-Study   Dept. 
THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CHICAGO 

Box   HIS,   Chicago  37,   Illinois 


FOR  MORE  VACATION  FUN 

m  GIMLET 

29  YRS.  TRAVEL-WISE  TRAVELERS  GUIDE 

Where  and  How  to  Go.     What  to  See.     The  Costs. 

CANADA  thru  FLORIDA,  and  Enroute.  Nassau, 
Cuba,  West  Indies.  Includes  N.Y.C.  228  PAGES 
illus.  Price  $1.00  postpaid.  Address  The  Gimlet, 
Dept.    18-H,  745— 5th  Ave.,  N.Y.C.  22. 

Typical  Hotels  Recommended  &  Described 

Miami,  Florida  TAMPA,  FLA. 

MCALLISTER        HOTEL,  HOTEL      FLORIDAN, 

FABULOUS        MIAMI'S  .           ,     „,„.,„        A 

LARGEST   AND   FINEST  TamPa  s    NEWEST    and 

HOTEL.     Overlooking  LARGEST         HOTEL. 

beautiful     Biscay ne  Located    in    the   heart 

Bat    Comer   BiS?  °<    <">—"    Tam^ 

Boulevard  and   Flagler  400  rooms,  each  with 

Street    ...     In    the  private     bath.      COM- 

very  heart  of  business  PLETELY    AIR    CONDI- 

and      shopping      area  ,,-„_„ 

.    .    .    within    steps   of  TIONED,      including 

sightseeing,         race  lobby,    dining    rooms, 

tracks     deep-sea    fish-  cocktai|     ,  and 

ing,    theaters,    restau- 

rants  and  all  trans-  meeting  rooms.  You 
portation.  A  wide  will  enjoy  every 
variety  of  beautiful  courtesy  and  conven- 
accommodations,  rang-  .  ...  . 
ing  from  modest  ience  in  ,his  modern 
priced  single  guest  hotel  that  features 
rooms  to  luxurious  gracious  Service  and 
penthouse  suites  with  „  .  „  ..  ...  _ 
private  rooftop  ter-  Real  Hosp.tal.ty,  offer- 
races.  Free  Television  ing  19  FLOORS  of 
in  every  room.  Excel-  solid  comfort.  De- 
lent  Coffee  Shop.  Su-  ..  .  ,  ,  . 
perb  Convention  and  I|C,0US  food  served  in 
Meeting  facilities.  the  Delightful  atmos- 
COMPLETELY AIR-CON-  phere  of  the  Crystal 
DITIONED.  You're  Dining  Roon)j  one  of 
closer  to  Everything  _.  .  , 
in  Miami  at  the  Mc-  Florida  s  most  beaut|- 
ALLISTER  .  .  .  that's  ful  places  to  dine, 
why  it  is  the  most  Free  orange  juice 
economical  place  to  every  morning.  Con- 
stay.    A  Schine  Hotel. 

C.      OeWitt      Coffman,  "ecting  garage.  James 

General    Manager.  B.    Pickard,    Manager. 


AFTER     HOURS 


port's  little  Barnum  Museum,  worked 
furious!)  to  snatch  the  building 
Iroin  her  boss,  the  mayor.  Raymond 
Buzak,  a  teachei  <>l  English  in  the 
high  school  behind  the  Wheeler 
House,  urged  his  pupils  to  write 
letters  to  the  local  papers  protesting 
the  demolition.  Before  election  day 
he  had  with  his  wile's  help  collected 
7,000  signatures  on  a  petition  to  save 
the  building.  Mrs.  John  W.  Richard- 
son, regent  of  the  DAR,  got  support 
and  statements  from  architectural 
historians  and  then  broadcast  them 
in  an  energetic  mailing  program. 
(Mayor  McLevy  is  reported  to  have 
said  of  the  fuss  about  the  house, 
"It's  all  Mrs.  Richardson's  and  Miss 
Seeley's  fault.'-) 

Two  men  from  Fairfield,  a  nearby 
town,  Ernesl  Hillman,  Jr.  and  John 
Skilton,  put  up  $1,500  to  pay  for  a 
lawyer  to  represenl  the  Association 
as  i  "friend  of  the  court"  at  the 
hearings  on  tinkering  with  Wheeler's 
will,  but  the  courl  found  in  M<- 
Levy's  favor.  In  the  last  Hurry  before 
election  ten  thousand  letters  signed 
by  Mr.  Hillman  and  other  members 
of  the  Association  (by  hand)  went 
to  what  Mary  Lohmann  (the  mem 
ber  of  the  committee  who  has  told 
me  all  about  this)  called  "the 
Socialist-voting  hotbeds  of  Bridge- 
port." Twenty-five  thousand  re- 
prints of  the  article  from  Time  were 
also  seni  to  voters,  some  of  them 
with  a  message  in  Hungarian  printed 
on  it  for  the  Hungarian  population 
of  the  city.  Two  days  before  election 
half-page  advertisements  appeared  in 
the  Herald  and  in  the  Post,  in  spite 
of  advice  of  the  papers  that  the  cause 
u  as  a  lost  one. 

The  Bridgeport  election  was  three- 
cornered.  The  Association  with  ta<  i 
and  sophistication  backed  both  the 
Republican  and  Democratic  candi- 
dates opposing  McLevy,  which 
meant  that  they  could  attack  their 
antagonisl  and  be  bipartisan  at  the 
same  time.  "McLevy's  24-year  DIC- 
rATORSHIP  WILL  END  TUESDAY.  RE- 
PLACE HIM  WITH  COCCO  OR  Tedesco" 
said  their  ad  at  the  foot  of  a  recital 
of  the  facts  about  the  fight  to  pie- 
serve  the  mansion. 

Nobody  quite  believes,  I  gather, 
thai  the  efforts  and  strategy  ol  the 
committee  have  worked.  The  house 
has  been  saved.  The  new  Mayor  said 
the  day  after  his  election  thai  his 
first  official  ac  i  alter  being  sworn  in 


will  be  to  walk  Lhrough  the  Wheeler 
mansion    with    ten   ol    the    Wheeler  1 
Mansion     Preservation     Association 
members,  trailing  reporters  from  the 
local   papers,   and    led    by    James  G. 
Van    Dei  pool,   past    president   ol    the  • 
Architectural  Historians.    Ibis  is  the 
end  of  chapter  one  in   the    Vssocia-  | 
(ion's  fight. 

Chapter  two  will  be  less  dramatic.  ( 
When  Mr.  Wheeler  left  the  house  to 
the   city   he   also   left    $40,000   as   an  j 
endowment  to  maintain  it.    Hut  this,  | 
even  il  it  can  be  recovered  from  the 

estate,  is  not  going  to  be  enough.  ; 
The  Association  feels  it  needs  a  total 
endowment  of  about  $250,000,  not 
only  to  restore  the  house  to  its  pre- 
McLevy  stale  but  to  maintain  it  as  a 
museum  and  make  il  otherwise  use- 
ful as  a  civic  center.  "It  would  have 
been  easier,"  Mrs.  Lohmann  said  to 
me,  "to  have  done  a  thing  like  this 
in  New  Haven  than  in  Bridgeport 
which  is  an  entirely  industrial  city." 
Perhaps  it  would,  but  however  slim 
the  margin  by  which  the  building 
was  saved,  Bridgeport  has  reason  to 
be  pleased  with  the  stout  defenders 
of  the  heritage  of  American  archi- 
tecture, and  with  its  own  good  sense. 

A     BLOW     FOR     LIBERTY 

LIKE  other  sentimentalists, 
I've  always  had  a  private  pic- 
ture of  the  whiskey  business.  Some- 
where in  Kentucky,  tucked  away  in 
a  hill  cove,  was  a  set  ol  weathered 
buildings  where  an  old-time  distiller, 
with  the  inherited  wisdom  ol  his 
craft,  produced  small  quantities  of 
such  bourbon  as  you  nor  I  ever 
tasted.  Aged  eight  years  or  more 
and  handled  with  loving  care,  it  was 
then  consumed  only  by  those  in- 
formed enough  to  have  discovered 
it— and  not  by  clods  like  us. 

Hut  tin's  fantasy,  among  so  many 
others,  has  suffered  a  collision  with 
reality. 

Recently  I  passed  a  lew  days 
visiting  distilleries  in  Kentucky  and 
Tennessee,  and  I've  been  struggling 
since  to  repair  my  illusions.  It  isn't 
necessarily  true  that  the  oldest  is  the 
best,  either  in  the  companies  or  their 
product.  It  isn't  necessarily  true  that 
a  small  distill  ry  is  more  craftsman- 
like  than  a  large  one.  It  isn't  neces- 
sarily true  that  bonded  whiskey  is 
better  than  straight,  or  even  that  the 
best  bourbon  comes  from  Kentucky. 


AFTER     HOURS 

And  it  certainly  isn't  true  that  the 
inhabitants  of  the  state,  colonels  in- 
cluded, drink  better  whiskey  than 
you  can  get  elsewhere  in  the  country. 

The  whiskey  business,  in  the  first 
place,  is  very  discontented  in  Ken- 
tucky and  trying  as  fast  as  it  can  to 
get  out  (if  so  much  hadn't  been 
spent  to  advertise  "Kentucky"  bour- 
bon it  might  have  left  already).  The 
last  state  legislature  raised  the  pro- 
duction and  import  tax  on  whiskey 
from  five  to  ten  cents  a  gallon,  and 
the  cries  of  outrage  from  the  indus- 
try have  yet  to  die  down.  Many  com- 
panies are  moving  where  they  can, 
or  at  least  moving  their  warehouses 
to  Indiana,  and  others  are  simply 
closing.  Of  the  twelve  distilleries  in 
Nelson  County,  the  traditional  center 
of  bourbon-making,  only  four  are 
now  in  operation. 

This  is  not,  on  the  other  hand,  a 
new  phenomenon.  Whiskey  is  essen- 
tially a  by-product  of  farming,  and 
the  really  ridiculous  thing  about  it 
is  how  cheap  it  is  to  make.  As  a 
result,  making  it  has  always  been 
both  risky  and  remarkably  durable 
as  an  enterprise;  individuals  can 
easily  coin  millions  or  go  broke,  but 
the  industry  survives— it  survived 
even  the  Noble  Experiment.  And  it 
has  always  been  complaining  about 
taxes.  The  first  "true"  bourbon  is 
generally  agreed  to  have  been  pro- 
duced in  1789  by  a  Baptist  minister 
named  Elijah  Craig,  and  three  years 
later  the  Kentucky  distillers'  associa- 
tion met  to  protest  the  intolerable 
burden  of  "oppressive"  taxation. 

AND  not,  either,  that  bourbon  is 
unpopular.  It  has  indeed  been  un- 
dergoing a  moderate  boom,  at  least 
in  the  Northeast,  where  sales  in- 
creased 200  per  cent  last  year  and 
200  per  cent  the  year  before  that. 
There  are  various  theories  about 
this,  taking  account  of  the  decline  of 
rye  and  the  bad  name  acquired  by 
blends  just  after  the  war  and  certain 
other  imponderables;  but  there  is 
perhaps  a  simpler  explanation  to  be 
found  in  the  motivation  studies  of 
bourbon-drinking  in  Texas  prepared 
last  year  by  McCann-Erickson.  These 
showed  that  blends,  straight,  and 
bonded  were  generally  ranked  on  a 
scale  of  income  and  status  cor- 
responding roughly  to  their  prices— 
and,  well,  with  all  this  prosperity 
around    what    did    you    expect?     It 


The  CATHOLIC  Woman 
Is  Never  In  Doubt! 


The  Catholic  woman,  of  course,  has  the 
same  problems  of  living  that  other  wom- 
en have. 

But  she  is  never  in  doubt  as  to  how 
to  solve  them.  In  every  decision  she 
makes  .  .  .  large  and  small  .  .  .  whether 
they  occur  in  her  adolescence  or  later  on 
as  a  wife  and  mother  . . .  she  can  use  the 
clearly  defined  principles  of  her  Catholic 
Faith.  This,  some  will  say,  is  a  form  of 
"thought  control"  to  which  they  would 
not  submit.  By  the  same  reasoning,  the 
Bible  with  its  strict  commandments 
guiding  human  behavior  could  also  be 
called  a  form  of  thought  control. 

Women  generally,  of  course,  are  op- 
posed to  divorce.  Many  of  them  regard 
it  as  a  grave  social  evil.  Catholic  women 
not  only  share  this  view,  but  know  that 
according  to  God's  law,  divorce  with 
remarriage  is  a  serious  sin. 

Catholic  women  may  be  tempted,  at 
times,  unlawfully  to  limit  the  number  of 
their  children  to  fit  the  family  income. 
But  the  Church  reminds  them  this  is  a 
violation  of  God's  law.  Likewise,  the 
obligation  to  provide  religious  training 
for  their  children  is  not  a  matter  of 
choice.  It  is  a  clear  duty. 

Sincere  people  of  all  faiths,  it  is  true, 
are  devoted  in  their  church  attendance 
and  conscious  of  their  need  to  worship 
God.  But  for  all  Catholics,  including 
women,  these  are  regular  obligations 
which  they  can  never  shirk.  Attendance 
at  Mass  on  Sundays  and  Holy  Days, 
Confession  and  Communion  at  least 
once  a  year,  and  fasting -and  abstinence, 
are  not  merely  religious  exercises  which 
a  Catholic  may  observe  or  ignore.  They 
constitute  elements  in  the  required 
Catholic  "way  of  life." 


SUPREME        COUNCIL 

KIIIGHTS  of  COLUmBUS 

RELIGIOUS      INFORMATION      BUREAU 


Catholics  gladly  choose  this  way  be- 
cause they  believe  that  the  Church... 
dating  down  the  centuries  from  Peter  to 
the  present  day  . . .  speaks  with  the  voice 
and  authority  of  Christ.  And  believing 
this,  they  are  never  in  doubt  concerning 
moral  and  spiritual  values  . . .  never  at  a 
loss  for  spiritual  assurance  and  help  for 
guidance  and  consolation. 

Whether  you  are  a  woman  or  a  man 
. . .  married  or  single  ...  it  will  be  an 
interesting  and  moving  experience  for 
you  to  read  our  specially-prepared 
pamphlet  describing  the  powerful  im- 
pact of  the  Catholic  Faith  upon  the  life 
of  a  woman.  It's  yours  for  the  asking 

—  will  be  sent  to  you  in  a  plain  wrapper 

—  and  nobody  will  call  on  you.  Write 
today  for  Pamphlet  D-44. 


SUPREME  COUNCIL 
KNIGHTS  OF  COLUMBUS 
RELIGIOUS  INFORMATION  BUREAU 
4422  Lindell,  St.  Louis  8,  Mo. 

Please  send  me  your  Free  Pamphlet  entitled  "Why 
a  Woman  Needs  the  Catholic  Faith"  D-44 


NAME. 


ADDRESS- 
CITY 


_STATE_ 


4422      LINDELL     BLVD. 


ST.    LOUIS     8,    MISSOURI 


82 

should  also  be  added  thai  35  to  40 
pei  i  cut  oi  industry  sales  as  a  w  hole 
take  place  around  Christmas-time, 
whi<  h  explains  .ill  those  de<  anters. 

( )li\  iouslj .  too,  iIk  i  c  is  a  good  bil 
dl  snobber)  involved  in  drinking 
bourbon,  but  I  mus(  admit  I  was 
relieved  to  disc  ovei  lnm  lm  l<  oi  it 
there  was  al  the  places  of  origin. 
Some  ol  the  distillers  seem  in  fa<  i 
to  gel  .i  quiel  amusemenl  oul  of  the 
ritualistic  superstitions  of  then  cus- 
tomers. 

"II  somebody  tells  you  he's  real 
pai  ii<  ulai ."  said  <ni<  ol  i hem,  "ask 
him  where  he  gets  his  ice  II  ii  isn'l 
fresh-made  oul  ol  distilled  water, 
he's  no  purist." 

Whiskey  is  .in  organi<  produc  i 
that  can  go  wrong  al  nearly  any 
point  in  iis  manufa<  ture,  and  an 
ability  to  pi<  k  up  odors  and  tastes  is 
aftei    ill  a  sunn  e  ol   its  \  ii  tue. 

"You  can  lake  lour  hundred  gal- 
lons ol  whiskey,"  .is  Reagor  IVIotlow 
oi  |.i(k  Daniel  ]>uts  it,  "drop  a  pine 
si  it  k  in  il  and  i  uin  it   jusl   like  that." 

Bul  the  quesl  ion  ol  w  h.u  makes 
one  bourbon  "better"  than  anothei 
is  far  more  (  oni|)li(  ated.  I  he  pi  od- 
ii(  I  is  made,  as  you  surely  know,  by 
lei  menting  a  mash  of  barley,  i  ye,  and 
corn  (mostly  corn)  and  then  distill- 
ing oul  the  whiskey,  cleai  and  color- 
less, at  over  100  proof.  This  is 
diluted  with  watei  and  stored  in 
(haired  oak  casks  for  a  number  of 
\c.os,  during  which  the  whiskey  ac- 
quires its  color  and  aroma  from  in- 
teracting with  the  wood  (the  casks, 
by  law,  can  only  be  used  one  e,  and 
il  you  can  figure  out  what  to  do 
with  them  al  lei  wards  a  fortune 
awaits  you  in  Kentucky).  Though 
the  whiskey  is  then  "cut"  with  dis- 
tilled water  before  being  bottled,  the 
quality  of  the  water  from  the  .start 
has  much  to  do  with  the  quality  of 
the  whiskey;  and  it  is  the  quality  of 
Kenni(k\  water  that  most  frequently 
appeals  among  the  explanations  of 
H  In    the  old-timers   located   here. 

Since  their  day  the  <  hemisti  \  of 
the  process  has  been  more  fully 
worked  out,  and  fermentation  seems 
to    take    place    jusl    as    ellce  1  i\  el\     in 

the  enormous  stainless-steel  cookers 
ol  the  big  distilleries  as  in  the  wood 
vats  of  the  smaller  ones.  The  big 
companies  point  out  thai  their  facili- 
ties allow  them  to  exercise  much 
greater  control  over  the  variables, 
such     as     temperature,     and     much 


AFTER     1 1  O  I   R  s 

in    the    pine  base   ol    l  aw 

matei  ials.     I  he  smallei   ones,  in   re 

ply,  adduce  know-how  and  devo- 
tion; but,  with  one  exception,  I'm 
inc  lined  to  doubl  that  the  advei  lis- 
ing  claims  foi  old-fashioned  methods 
are  wholly  serious,  \ltei  all,  the 
really  old-fashioned  bourbon  was 
whal  they  tailed  "hand-made,"  a 
small  tub  at  a  time,  and  according  to 
disi  illei  ( .h.u  les  I  homason  al  the 
Willei  Distilling  Company  in  bards- 
town,  one  of  the  lew  remaining 
three-generation  family  firms,  the 
lasi    "hand-made"    bourbon    he    can 

remember  was  in  190  1. 


THE  looks  of  a  small  distillery,  to 
the  visitor,  have  little  to  distinguish 
them.  I  he  most  (  onspic  uous  feal  m  e 
will  be  the  warehouses,  bulky  four- 
story  blocks  that  are  usually  surfaced 
with  gray  con  ugated  metal.  The  si  ill 
itsell  will  have  a  tower,  and  there  is 
likely  to  be  a  tall  thin  black  smoke- 
siai  k:  but  at  Insi  glanc  e  you  might 
easily  mistake  it  foi  a  sawmill.  Most 
of  the  distilleries  have  naturally  been 
built  or  rebuilt  since  Prohibition, 
and  there  is  not  a  great  deal  of  dif- 
ference in  their  major  items  ol 
equipment  or  manufacturing  proc- 
esses (minor  differences  ol  formula 
oi  technique,  however,  are  main). 
Quite  a  lew  have  been  bought  up  by 
outsiders  or  by  one  of  the  "big  lour" 
Seagram,  Schenley,  National,  or 
Hiram  Walker— without  causing 
noticeable  changes  in  practice. 

Whal  we  benighted  Easterners 
consider  lo  he  first-rate  bouillons 
.iic  equally  so  regarded  in  Kentucky. 
I  will  not  embarrass  our  advertisers 


by  playing  favorites  bin  will  simply 
say  that,  il  you  have  been  patroniS 
ing   one    ol    the-  dozen  odd    familial 

brands,  you  c  an  go  on  doing  so  with 
oul     regret.      |  I  he    word     "bonded,' 

however,  docs  nol  specifically  rera 
lo  quality;  it  means  only  thai  the 
whiskev  has  been  aged  loin  \cai' 
nuclei  govei  nine  in  bond  and  is  l<)( 
proof.)  The  kind  ol  whiskev  to  be 
found  in  much  greatei  variety  ii 
Ki  nine  k\  propei  is  straight  bourbon 
ol  lowei  piool  and  the  middle-price 
range,  similai  il  not  identical  to  the 
"house  brands"  thai  large  stores  anc 
distributors  markel  in  the  Easl  un 
der  theii  own  labels,  h  is  sole 
locally  under  names  that  are  familiaj 
lo    keniue  kians    but    have    nol,    be 

c ause  ol  the  small  distiller's  limite< 
iii.n  kei  ing  organization,  become  wel 
known  in  othei  parts.  \  briel  glance. 
at  the  Kentucky  Beverage  l<>inim. 
reveals  over  130  ol  them,  thirty  be 
ginning  with  the  word  "old,"  in 
eluding  Old  Hickory,  Old  Loj: 
Cabin,  Old  Mill  Stream,  Old  Joe 
and  Old    Tub. 

THE     "one    exception"    which 

meiil  ionecl  cai  lie!  is  also  an  e\c  e] 
lion  in  being  a  small  distiller's  bran 
with  a  national  reputation  as  one 
ol  the  best  of  bourbons.  It  is  noi 
bonded,  technically  nol  a  bourbor 
(the  mash  starts  with  a  differenl 
proportion  of  corn  to  other  grains) 
and  il  is  not  made  in  Kentucky,  bin 
otherwise  the  reputation  is  earned 
I  refer  ol  course  to  Jack  Daniel's 
which  is  a  corn  whiskey  made  ii 
Lynchburg,  Tennessee,  by  a  uniqu( 
piocess  ol  libeling  the  new  whiskcx 
from  the  still  through  charcoal  be 
fore  il  is  barreled.  This  is  a  tech 
nique  which  seems  lo  have  beer 
broughl  over  from  Africa  and  which' 
has  the  effect  of  removing  the  fusej 
oil,  or  high  alcohols,  with  a  resulting 
increase  in  mellowness  and  dcereasd 
in  hangovers.  |.u  k  Daniel's  caughtj 
on,  a  number  of  years  ago.  partly  as^ 
a  icsiili  of  word-of-mouth  advert^ 
ing  from  prominent  consumers  (in 
eluding  William  Faulkner  and  ihe 
I. ue  Senator  Kenneth  McKellar)  and 
parti)  ol  an  energetic  promotion 
campaign:  bul  under  Reagor  Mot 
low's  direction  it  promises  to  main 
tain  its  present  standard. 

Reagor  Motlow,  like  most  dis 
tillers,  is  a  voluble  opponent  ol  the 
high    taxes— and    the    resulting    high 


83 


AFTE 


HOURS 


degree  of  supervision— that  the  gov- 
ernment imposes  on  him.  Since  a 
gallon  of  whiskey  which  he  can 
make  for  a  dollar  has  a  federal  tax 
on  it  of  $10.50,  even  before  the  state 
taxes  begin,  it  pays  the  Bureau  of 
Internal  Revenue  to  make  sure  that 
the  whole  whiskey  industry  doesn't 
spin  a  single  drop.  Its  office  in 
Louisville,  where  there  are  several 
big  companies,  is  said  to  take  in  an 
average  of  a  million  dollars  a  day; 
and  a  still  that  may  need  five  men 
to  operate  it  needs  seven  inspectors 
to  Avatch  it.  Where  the  federal  gov- 
ernment leaves  off  the  states  begin, 
each  with  its  special  regulations  and 
special  bits  of  appropriate  paper. 
Mr.  Motlow  observes  that  he  some- 
times thinks  he  is  not  in  the  whiskey 
business  but  in  the  stamp  business. 

The  distillers  argue,  with  some 
cogency,  that  the  effect  of  a  high 
tax  is  to  stimulate  moonshining, 
which  they  believe  amounts  to  at 
least  a  $50-million-dollar-a-year  busi- 
ness. Since  their  own  take  is  about 
$200  million,  this  means  that  we 
have  produced  an  illegal  industry  a 
quarter  the  size  of  its  legal  counter- 
part. And  there  are  those  who  even 
speak  well  of  the  illegal  product;  a 
man  at  one  distillery  assured  me 
that  the  smoothest  whiskey  he  had 
ever  tasted  was  Cajun  moonshine 
from  Louisiana.  The  problem  is  a 
complicated  one  since  the  taxes 
have  become  in  effect  a  social  and 
moral  device,  used  for  their  control 
over  behavior  as  much  as  their  pro- 
duction of  income. 

Where  my  own  reformist  zeal  is 
aroused  is  in  the  matter  of  "wet" 
and  "dry"  counties.  One  of  the 
many  ironies  of  whiskey-making  is 
that  so  much  of  it  takes  place,  quite 
legally,  in  localities  where  the  sale 
and  consumption  of  booze  is  theo- 
retically illegal.  You  may  repeat 
"theoretically."  The  effect  of  this 
is  inevitably  to  force  an  alliance  be- 
tween the  bootleggers  and  the  forces 
of  teetotalism,  who  have  common 
ground  only  in  hypocrisy  and  whose 
harm  to  their  society  is  consequently 
deep.  The  people  of  the  South  have 
long  been  famous  for  voting  Dry 
and  drinking  Wet,  but  since  they 
have  made  a  gift  to  the  rest  of  us  of 
our  greatest  beverage  it  seems  a  pity 
that  they  still  cannot  enjoy  it  openly, 
in  moderation  and  quiet. 

—Mr.   Harper 


She  knows 
only 

hardship 
and  hunger 


This  is  Do  Thi  Lan,  Vietnamese,  age  6.  A 
timid,  gentle  child,  she  knows  only  hard- 
ship and  want.  Her  parents  fled  the 
bloody  war  in  the  north  in  search  for 
freedom,  joining  the  hordes  of  refugees 
on  the  painful  trek  southivard.  Arriving 
in  Saigon,  the  father  soon  lost  his  life 
from  TB,  leaving  his  wife,  little  Lan  and 
an  infant  now  aged  2.  The  young  mother, 
old  before  her  years,  earns  40?  a  day, 
hardly  enough  to  keep  them  alive.  They 
share  a  one-room  lodging  in  poverty  un- 
known in  the  tvestern  world.  Blinded  by 
tears  of  despair,  heartsick  with  loss  of 
hope,  the  mother  watches  her  children  go 
to  bed  at  night  with  hunger  and  distress. 
Won't  you  help  little  Lan  or  a  child  like 
her?  Your  help  will  also  mean  help  to  the 
entire  little  family  ,  .  .  your  help  today 
means    their   hope   for   tomorrow. 


You  alone,  or  as  a  member  of  a  group,  can  help  these  children  by  becoming  a  Foster 
Parent.  You  will  be  sent  the  case  history  and  photographs  of  "your  child"  upon  receipt 
of  application  with  initial  payment.  "Your  child"  is  told  that  you  are  his  or  her  Foster 
Parent.  At  once  the  child  is  touched  by  love  and  a  sense  of  belonging.  All  correspondence 
is  through  our  office,  and  is  translated  and  encouraged.  We  do  no  mass  relief.  Each 
child,  treated  as  an  individual,  receives  a  monthly  cash  grant  of  nine  dollars  plus  food, 
clothing,  shelter,  education  and  medical  care  according  to  his  or  her  needs. 

Plan  is  a  non-political,  non-profit,  non-sectarian,  government-approved,  independent 
relief  organization,  helping  children,  wherever  the  need — in  France,  Belgium,  Italy, 
Greece,  Western  Germany,  Korea  and  Viet  Nam — and  is  registered  under  No.  VFA019 
with  the  Advisory  Committee  on  Voluntary  Foreign  Aid  of  the  United  States  Government 
and  is  filed  with  the  National  Information  Bureau  in  New  York  City.  Your  help  is 
vital  to  a  child  struggling  for  life.   Won't  you  let  some  child  love  you? 

©1958FPP,   Inc. 

Tatter  Patents'  p£a*,  u. 

352  FOURTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK   10,  N.  Y. 


PARTIAL  LIST  OF 
SPONSORS  AND 
FOSTER   PARENTS 

Mary   Pickford 

Mr.   and  Mrs. 

Robert  W.   Sarnoff 

Dr.   John    Haynes    Holmes 

Jean   Tennyson 

Helen   Hayes 

Dr.   Howard   A.   Rusk 

Edward   R.   Murrow 

Bing   Crosby 

K.   C.   GifFord 

Gov.  &  Mrs.  Walter  Kohler 

Charles   R.   Hook 

Mr.  and  Mrs. 

John    Cameron    Swayze 

Garry  Moore 


FOSTER  PARENTS'  PLAN,   INC.  H-l-58 

352   Fourth  Avenue,  New  York   10,   N.  Y. 

In   Canada:   P.  O.   Box  65,   Sta.  B,  Montreal,  Que. 

A.  I    wish   to   become   a    Foster   Parent  of   a    needy   child   for   one 

year.    If   possible,   sex ,  age    ,   nationality 

I   will  pay  $15  a  month  for  one  year  ($180).  Payment  will  be 

monthly  (  ),  quarterly  (  ),  semi-annually  (  ),  yearly  (  ). 
I    enclose   herewith    my    first   payment   $ 

B.  I    cannot   "adopt"    a    child,   but    I    would    like   to   help   a    child 

by     contributing     $ 

Name     

Address    

City Zone State 

Date Contributions    are    deductible    from    Income    Tax 


the  new 


BOOKS 


America's  Secular  Religion 


PAUL  PICKREL 


WHEN  a  female  character  in  one  of 
Ivy  Compton-Burnett's  novels  remarks 
a v i 1 1 1  1  el ici  that  Christmas  conies  bin  once  a  year, 
she  strongly  suggests  that  she  lias  exhausted 
everything  there  is  to  be  said  in  defense  <>l  the 
subject,  and  at  this  time  ol  year  her  appraisal 
will  probabl)  strike  many  a  tired  and  impover- 
ished holiday  veteran  as  remarkably  just.  But  for 
a  book  reviewer  Christmas  has  ai  least  one  other 

wel< onie  attribute  besides  its  deceni  infrequency: 
naineb  thai  during  the  holiday  season  publishers 
are  much  too  busy  selling  the  books  they  have 
already  published  to  bring  out  many  new  ones. 
This  temporary  lull  in  the  flood  of  new  pub- 
lications gives  me  an  opportunity  to  go  ba<  k  and 
survey  some  recent  but  not  necessarily  brand-new 
books  th.it  I  have  previously  neglected.  I  intend 
to  center  my  remarks  on  books  in  a  held  of 
perennial  genera]  interest  and— in  the  weeks  since 
the  Russians  launched  the  fust  man-made  satel- 
lite—of acute  and  specific  interest,  the  field  of 
American  education. 

FALSE     EXPECTATIONS 

PROBABLY  few  of  the  millions  who  saw 
and  heard  President  Eisenhower  on  the  occasion 
of  his  first  formal  address  to  the  nation  after  the 
launching  of  the  sputniks  were  surprised  that 
the  first  subject  he  took  up— after  reassuring  his 
audience  on  the  state  of  American  armaments- 
was  the  subject  of  education.  Nor  was  it  sur- 
prising that  the  most  important  innovation  he 
announced  to  meet  the  challenge  posed  by  Rus- 
sia's dramatically  demonstrated  technological 
plow  ess  was  his  appointment  of  a  leading  edu- 
cator. President  Killian  of  M.I.T.,  to  co-ordinate 
our  scientific  and  technological  research  and  to 
kee.p  him  in  touch  with  developments. 

It  would  have  been  surprising  if  the  President 
had  not  referred  to  education  and  educational 
leaders  in  his  speech  on  that  evening  in  mid- 
November  when  so  much  was  expected  of  him— 
surprising  not  only  because  of  the  direct  rele- 
vance of  education  to  the  research  and  develop- 


ment that  lie  behind  modern  armaments,  but 
also  because  education  is  America's  secular  re- 
ligion, and  to  fail  to  invoke  it  at  a  time  of 
national  disticss  would  show  a  lack  ol  decorum. 

With  oiu  separation  of  church  and  state,  edu- 
cational institutions  (for  the  most  part  uncon- 
sciously) have  come  to  perform,  or  lo  try  to  per- 
form, many  of  the  functions  that  religious  insti- 
tutions pel  form  in  other  societies.  Long  ago  a 
Latin  visitor  observed  thai  the  only  thing  he 
had  seen  before  thai  was  at  all  comparable  to 
a  high-school  graduation  in  a  small  American 
town  was  a  first  Communion  in  an  Italian  \il- 
lage.  Around  the  schools  have  grown  up  the 
elaborate  but  educationally  incidental  para- 
phernalia ol  homecomings,  parades,  and  big 
games— an  attempt  to  fill  the  need  lor  sym- 
bolism, lor  magnificence  and  tradition,  in  a 
societx  with  lew  official  occasions  for  either 
carnival  or  ceremony.  The  process  of  initiation, 
the  rites  by  which  boys  ire  inducted  into  man's 
estate,  are  in  most  primitive  societies  in  the 
hands  of  priests  and  elders,  hut  with  us  they  are 
left  to  the  not  always  lender  mercies  of  high- 
school  gangs  and  college  fraternities  whose  mem- 
bers are  only  slightly  older  than  the  initiates 
themselves.  Our  schools  have  many  characteris- 
es that  elsewhere  might  be  thought  more  ap- 
propriate in  religious  institutions— a  conviction 
that  they  must  be  all  things  to  all  men,  for  in- 
stance, and  a  reluctance  to  excommunicate. 

So  whenever  anything  arises  to  put  America's 
destiny  in  question,  the  schools  come  under  close 
scrutiny:  they  are  both  blamed  for  having  failed 
to  forestall  the  clanger  before  it  had  happened 
and  counted  on  to  correct  it  after  it  has.  For  a 
long  time,  whenever  anything  went  wrong  the 
cry  was  for  more  education;  now  that  more  and 
more  young  people  have  spent  more  and  more 
years  in  school  and  college,  the  cry  is  for  better 
education. 

The  trouble  with  regarding  education  as  a 
secular  religion  is  not  so  much  that  it  leads  us 
to  expect  too  much  of  our  schools  as  that  it  leads 
us  to  expect  the  wrong  things.  A  pluralistic 
society  like  ours,  in  which  values  are  established 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


85 


not  by  any  central  agency  but  by  all  kinds  of 
persons  and  groups  throughout  society,  has  many 
advantages;  but  its  schools  cannot  be  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  population  that  provides  their 
students,  teachers,  administrators,  school  boards, 
and  financial  support.  A  genuine  religion  can 
be  different;  it  has  or  claims  to  have  a  super- 
natural, other-worldly  sanction;  that  sanction 
gives  it  power  to  go  against  the  tide  and  gives  it 
a  standard  against  which  it  can  measure  itself 
and  purge  itself  of  excesses.  But  a  secular  re- 
ligion is,  after  all,  secular— of  this  world;  its  goals 
are  not  built-  in  or  self-correcting.  A  public 
school  has  little  power,  for  instance,  to  inculcate 
a  greater  respect  for  learning  and  intelligence 
than  the  community  as  a  whole  really  feels.  An 
occasional  teacher  can  do  it  by  sheer  force  of 
personality,  an  occasional  student  will  encounter 
a  book  or  problem  that  convinces  him  that  the 
life  of  the  mind  is  deeply  absorbing  no  matter 
what  other  people  may  think,  but  in  general  we 
are  simply  deluding  ourselves  if  we  expect  our 
schools  to  maintain  standards  that  the  com- 
munity as  a  whole  has  abandoned  or  never  held. 

Since  the  sputniks  first  appeared  the  standards 
the  American  people  hold  have  undergone  rapid 
change.  As  that  astute  British  observer  of  the 
American  scene,  D.  W.  Brogan,  has  recently 
pointed  out,  the  more  complacent  excuses  for 
American  shortcomings  have  been  destroyed— 
the  notion  that  the  Russians  couldn't  make  much 
technological  progress  without  a  conspiracy  of 
spies  who  stole  our  secrets,  for  instance;  or  the 
notion  that  we  were  too  rich  to  have  to  make 
choices;  above  all,  the  notion  that  whatever  our 
faults  we  were  still  out  ahead. 

Probably  never  before  have  the  American  peo- 
ple been  so  ready  to  take  education  seriously  as 
in  the  last  two  months.  Our  schools  have  a  tre- 
mendous opportunity,  but  it  can  be  frittered 
away  all  too  easily,  by  attempting  too  much  or 
too  little  or  the  wrong  things.  The  word  educa- 
tion in  itself  contains  no  magic  to  exorcise  the 
demons  that  plague  us;  it  is  simply  the  collective 
label  for  a  great  variety  of  human  activities  of 
widely  varying  worth  and  relevance.  To  seek  out 
what  is  most  worthy  and  most  relevant  is  cer- 
tainly a  big  assignment,  but  it  is  an  assignment 
that  faces  the  American  people. 

STILL     PERTINENT 

NO W  books  have  one  characteristic  that 
distinguishes  them  from  most  other  con- 
temporary means  of  communication:  there  is 
still  a  considerable  delay  between  the  time  they 
are  written  and  the  time  they  are  read.  The 
radio  or  television  commentator  can  make  his 
voice  crackle  with  the  urgency  of  today's  crisis 
and  trust  that  all  will  be  forgotten  by  tomorrow; 
the  journalist's  prose  and  prophecies  leap  to 
print   but  vanish  with   the  garbage.    But   what 


the  writer  of  a  book  says  will  be  read  in  a  dif- 
ferent context  of  events  and  can  be  held  against 
him.  If  he  remembers  that  fact,  it  is  a  lesson  in 
humility;  if  he  forgets  it,  it  may  be  a  lesson  in 
humiliation.  All  the  books  about  to  be  discussed 
were  written  well  before  the  earth  satellites  were 
launched;  as  a  group  they  stand  up  well  and 
testify  to  the  fact  that  some  at  least,  of  our  educa- 
tional leaders  were  not  caught  asleep. 

Brainpower  Quest  edited  by  Andrew  A.  Free- 
man (Macmillan,  $5),  though  recently  published, 
is  the  record  of  a  symposium  held  at  Cooper 
Union  more  than  a  year  ago  on  the  subject  of 
the  nation's  supply  of  engineering  talent,  and  it 
shows  that  alert  and  resourceful  men  were  at 
that  time  very  much  alive  to  the  problem.  The 
book  has  the  characteristics  of  most  symposia: 
the  various  speakers  use  more  or  less  the  same 
statistics,  some  contributors  arrived  riding  on 
their  favorite  hobbyhorses  and  refused  to  dis- 
mount, some  interesting  points  get  insufficient 
discussion  and  some  generalities  get  too  much. 
On  the  whole  the  speakers  say  about  what  they 
might  be  expected  to  say  on  such  subjects  as 
recruitment  of  students,  the  need  for  better 
preparation  of  students,  the  desirability  of  edu- 
cating engineers  more  broadly,  etc. 

But  certain  points  are  less  expected.  One  is 
the  question  whether  we  really  need  more  engi- 
neers or  simply  need  to  make  much  better  use  of 
those  we  already  have.  Opinion  on  this  point  is 
divided,  but  there  are  enough  speakers  who  hold 
that  the  supply  is  adequate  if  wisely  used  to 
make  one  wonder  if  there  may  not  be  some- 
thing to  their  argument.  At  a  time  when  almost 
every  field  is  clamoring  for  more  and  better  peo- 
ple to  come  into  it,  and  none  more  than  the 
sciences,  engineering,  and  teaching,  no  one  can 
help  wondering  if  there  are  enough  "better"  peo- 
ple to  supply  all  the  demands.  At  this  point  the 
history  of  the  medical  profession  may  be  instruc- 
tive: there  are  fewer  medical  schools  in  America 
now  than  fifty  years  ago,  and  the  number  of  their 
graduates  has  not  greatly  increased,  yet  on  the 
whole  medical  care  has  improved  immensely. 
The  reason  seems  to  be  that  the  individual  physi- 
cian's time  has  been  stretched  by  centering 
medicine  in  institutions  like  hospitals  and 
clinics  and  by  the  creation  of  a  whole  group  of 
new  professions  and  occupations— laboratory 
technicians,  anaesthetists,  roentgenologists,  and 
so  on— that  relieve  the  M.D.  of  all  but  his  strictly 
professional  duties.  There  may  be  a  lesson  in 
what  has  happened  to  medicine  for  both  engi- 
neering and  teaching.  The  loss  in  personal  rela- 
tionship that  went  with  the  old  family  doctor 
would  be  even  more  marked  if  teaching  were 
professionalized  in  the  way  medicine  has  been, 
but  presumably  nobody  has  an  old  family 
engineer. 

Another  unexpected  point  that  comes  out 
here  is  the  report  of  the  very  high  proportion 


86 


The  man  who 
reads  dictionaries 


THE     N  E  W     l'.OOKS 


<QW.  Suschitzky  Photo 

SEAN  O'CASEY,  one  of  the  great 
writers  of  our  century,  says: 

"T  must  have  spent  years  of  life  with 
JL  dictionaries,  for  a  dictionary  was 
the  first  tool  I  used  to  learn  to  read.  I 
have  five  of  them  now.  Webster's  New 
World  Dictionary,  College  Edition,  is 
a  great  dictionary  and  a  lovely  hook,  a 
classic  among  dictionaries.  It  is  a  fas- 
cinating one,  easy  to  handle,  beauti- 
fully printed,  and  splendidly  bound. 
This  splendid  work  shows  that  the 
American  way  of  words  is  a  good  way, 
and  I,  on  behalf  of  Whitman,  cry  hail 
to  it." 

The   name   Webster  alone  on   a  dictionary 
is   not   enough    to   guarantee   excellence 
of    this    kind.    Visit    your    bookseller 
and  ask  to  see  — 


WEBSTER'S 


NEW  WORLD 


DICTIONARY 


WEBSTER'S 
NEWWORLDk 


<y/s<y»iyf  / 


C<>LLEGE  ED 


ITIOH 


142,000 
entries 

1,760  pages 

In  various 

bindings, 

from  $5.75 


THE  WORLD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


ol  students  who  I.nl  in  engineering 
schools:  50  pet  cent.  1  hue  may  lie 
a  little  padding  in  this  figure;  obvi- 
ously il  the  president  of  one  engi- 
neering school  says  that  his  school 
fails  50  pei  i  cm  ol  iis  students  the 
presidents  of  other  engineering 
schools  will  not  rush  in  to  s.in  thai 
theii  institutions  are  less- severe,  lint 
if  something  like  that  proportion  ol 
Students  is  being  tailed  it  means  a 
tremendous  waste  of  educational  fa- 
cilities; something  is  wrong  either 
with    I  he   l\  a]    Students  air   admitted 

oi   the  way  they  are  taught  aftei  ad 
mission   or  both.      I  he  situation   is 

made  worse  by  the  fact  (il  it  is  a  hut 
—the  spcakeis  seem  not  to  he  very 
sure)  that  most  of  the  failures  do  not 
ordinarily  make  use  ol  theii  partial 
engineering  training  bin  go  into 
othei  occupations.  The)  would  look 
like  a  reservoir  ol  talent  foi  engi- 
neering sub-professions,  though  one 
shrewd  speakei  with  experience  re- 
in, it  ks,  in  effe(  I,  thai  the  man  who 
has  failed  is  net  usuall)  the  besi  oi 
most  willing  aide  to  the  man  who 
has   sin  (  ceded. 

The  most  arresting  and  disquiet- 
ing remark  in  Brainpower  Quest  is 
a  remindei  that,  since  Russia  offers 
us  young  people  fewer  choices  of 
<  ai  eei  than  we  do,  the  fields  that  aie 
open  to  them,  like  s(  ience  and  cngi- 
neering,  will  he  more  crowded,  con- 
sequently will  be  more  competitive, 
and  quite  possibly  will  have  highei 
standards  ol  accomplishment.  Rus 
sian  boys  and  girls  in  search  ol 
prestige  and  othei  lew  aids  cannot 
go  into  stockbroking  or  advertising 
oi  consumer  research  or  many  other 
fields  that  oiler  prizes  to  the  ambi- 
tious young  American,  because  those 
fields  do  not  exist  in  Russia;  they 
( mi  go  into  sc  ien<  e. 

We  can  respond  to  that  fact  in 
several  different  ways.  We  can  enact 
a  frantic  "crash"  program  of  scien- 
tific and  technological  education, 
which  may  be  of  some  use  in  the 
shoit  run  but  unless  it  is  very  care- 
fully considered  will  distort  our 
schools  and  other  institutions  in  the 
long  run.  Or  we  can  go  the  whole 
hog  and  put  our  society  through  a 
thorough  Russification,  thereby  ful- 
filling the  prophecies  of  those  who 
have  said  that  the  power  stalemate 
would  end  by  America  and  Russia 
becoming  just  alike.  Or  we  can  re- 
examine our  society  with  a  view  to 


bringing  it  in  line  not  with  the  bes 
in    Russia   but    with   the  best    in  ouii 
selves.    \n\  society  is  a  living  dclun 
lion   ol    c  llu  icni  \,  ol   what   it   think 
worth    saving    and    what    it    doesn' 
mind  wasting.    Wc  could  make  con 
siderable  changes  in  our  definitioi 
ol   elli-.  ien< \    without  any   danger  a 
being     Russified.      The     confidenti 
that    our    institutions   automatically 
insured   superiority,    that    America! 
science  bad  to  be  better  than   Rus 
sian      sc  icni  e      bee  ausc      il      was      ill 
sc  icni  e    ol    a    tree    people,    has    no\ 
been    disc  i  edited,    but    that    does   m 
necessarily  discredit  our  institution 
ii  m.  ans  that  they  cannoi  be  lefi  i 
themselves  to  perform  tasks  oi  estal 
li-.fi  values  that  are  the  business  c 
all  of  us. 

One  point  thai  is  hardly  tout  he 
upon  in  Brainpower  (hirst  and  ih; 
may  have  been  pi opei  lv  regarded  ; 
lying  outside  the  area  of  discussioi 
though  it  is  certainly  crucial  in  th 
whole  mallei  ol  sc  ientific  and  led 
nological  education  and  indeed  c 
all  education,  is  the  question  ol  ii 
novation  and  c  real  i\  it  v— where  at 
how  and  from  what  kind  of  peopl 
new  ideas  arise,  what  kind  of  ecluc 
tional  s\stem  is  mosi  conducive  t 
inventiveness  and  discovery.  Sord 
informed  observers  believe  that  Ru 
si. i  and  America  are  both  still  li\in 
oil  Western  Europe's  capital  of  put 
science,  thai  neither  has  created  tl 
conditions  favorable  to  fundament 
innovation,  and  that  in  the  long  ru 
the  Inst  nation  to  do  so  will  be  tl 
one  that  is  out  ahead.  It  seems  :: 
likely  that  "crash"  programs  will  d 
that  job,  and  it  seems  unlikely  lb; 
it  can  be  done  lor  science  in  iso 
tion  from  the  rest  of  the  intellects 
life  of  the  nation. 

A     RADICAL     REFORME 

THOUGH  Irving  Adlei 
What  We  Want  of  Oi;i 
Schools  (John  Day,  $3.75)  was  pul, 
Iished  a  month  before  the  fir 
sputnik  was  launched,  the  launchii 
makes  it  more  rather  than  less  d 
gent,  because  Adler  speaks  to  ti 
times.  Most  of  the  recent  popul; 
critics  of  American  public  educatin 
have  been  conservatives  trying  ll 
guide  education  back  to  the  pat 
they  knew  when  they  were  youia 
most  of  them  have  been  trained  i 
the  liberal  arts,  with  at  most  a  lir 


87 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 

ited  interest  in  innovation  in  general 
and  in  technological  innovation  in 
particular;  and  often  their  firsthand 
experience  of  public  schools  has 
been  slight.  Adler,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  a  radical,  a  man  who  wants 
to  make  changes  that  are  not  a  re- 
turn to  old  ways;  his  education  is  in 
science  and  mathematics,  he  is 
deeply  interested  in  technology,  and 
he  has  experience  as  a  teacher  of 
mathematics  in  public  schools. 

On  many  points  Adler  seems  to 
me  very  interesting  and  quite  wrong. 
His  conception  of  man  as  only  a 
technological  animal  is  too  narrow: 
"man's  characteristically  human  ac- 
tivity is  directed  toward  control  of 
his  environment."  Man  is  engaged 
in  just  as  "human"  an  activity  when 
he  is  controlling  himself  as  when  he 
is  controlling  his  environment,  pos- 
sibly more  so. 

In  describing  the  social  and  eco- 
nomic pressures  on  public  education, 
Adler  undertakes  a  useful  kind  of 
analysis,  but  it  is  much  too  crude 
to  do  justice  to  the  facts.  He  sees 
the  schools  as  squeezed  between  two 
groups:  first,  a  small  privileged  class 
who  want  to  keep  school  budgets 
low  (to  save  taxes)  and  the  quality 
of  teaching  poor  (to  assure  a  labor 
force  that  knows  just  enough  to  do 
its  work  but  not  enough  to  make 
any  trouble),  and  second,  "the  com- 
mon people"  who  want  good  schools 
for  their  children.  Actually,  in  be- 
tween these  two  groups  stand  most 
of  the  American  people,  who  are  and 
think  of  themselves  as  middle  class; 
they  run  the  schools  because  they 
supply  most  of  the  teachers  and  ad- 
ministrators, most  of  the  members 
of  PTA's  and  school  boards,  and 
most  of  the  funds.  They  are  not  as 
rich  as  the  members  of  the  NAM, 
but  they  have  a  great  many  more 
votes.  Those  in  the  middle  class  are 
by  no  means  united  on  what  they 
want  of  the  schools,  except,  to  do 
them  justice,  most  of  them  want  the 
schools  to  be  "good." 

Adler's  argument  for  academic 
freedom  is  also  open  to  exception. 
He  says  that  he  believes  that  all 
points  of  view  should  be  represented, 
though  his  chapter  on  the  Negro 
and  education  suggests  that  he 
would  not  care  to  have  his  children 
taught  by  a  white  supremacist,  and 
his  (very  good)  discussion  of  teach- 
ing methods  suggests  that  he  would 


May  I  suggest... 

for  winter  reading 


March 
the  Ninth 

by  R.  C.  HUTCHINSON 

"As  sheer  story  this  book  is  com- 
pletely absorbing  but  it  also  has 
depth,  breadth  and  insight  into 
the  human  spirit,  making  it  an 
extraordinarily  fine  novel." 
—  New  York  Herald  Tribune 
$4.50 

Cornflake 
Crusade 

by  GERALD  CARSON 

"What  faddists  and  crackpots 
have  contributed  to  the  Ameri- 
can dietary  .  .  .  Besides  being  a 
contribution  to  social  history, 
Cornflake  Crusade  is  funnier  than 
most  books  billed  as  a  comedy." 
—New  York  Times  Book  Review 
Illustrated.       $4.95 

Birth  of  a 
Grandfather 

by  MAY  SARTON 

"May  Sarton's  best  novel."  —  The 
New  Yorker.  The  struggles  of  a 
man  who,  after  20  years  of  mar- 
riage, is  faced  with  an  appalling 
sense  of  failure.  $3.75 


AT  ALL  BOOKSELLERS 


Biography 
of  the  Bulls 

edited  by  REX  SMITH 

An  anthology  of  Spanish  bull- 
fighting. "The  very  best  .  .  .  ma- 
terial on  that  curious  madness 
called  bullfighting."  —  tom  lea 
Illustrated.       $7.95 

Jeb  Stuart 

THE  LAST  CAVALIER 

by  BURKE  DAVIS 

"Catches  the  spark  and  dash  of 

the  real  Stuart ...  A  superb  job." 

—  Chicago  Sun-Times 

Illustrated.       $6.00 

Neither  Black 
Nor  White 

by  WILMA  DYKEMAN 
and  JAMES  STOKELY 

What  do  Southerners  really  think 
of  integration?  Now  individual 
Southerners  of  all  shades  of 
opinion  go  on  record,  as  two 
veteran  writers,  native  Southern- 
ers, measure  the  pulse  of  13 
states.  "A  fascinating  book  and 
a  compelling  book." 

—  Saturday  Review     $5.00 


ID 


RINEHART 


MAKE  MONEY  WRITING 

...Short  Paragraphs!  Hundreds  of  beginners 
now  making  money  writing  short  paragraphs.  I 
tell  you  what  to  write,  where  and  how  to  sell; 
and  supply  list  of  editors  who  buy  from  be- 
ginners. No  tedious  study.  Write  to  sell,  right 
away.  Send  for  free  facts.  BENSON  BARRETT, 
Dept.    77-N,  7464  N.  Clark  St.,  Chicago  26,  III. 


All  subjects,  all  languages.  Also  Genealogies  and 
Family  and  Town  Histories.  Incomplete  sets  com- 
pleted. All  magazine  back  numbers  supplied.  Send 
us  your  list  of  wants.  No  obligation.  We  report 
quickly   at    lowest    prices. 

(We  also  supply  all  current  books  at  retail  store  prices 
— Postpaid,  as  well  as  all  books  reviewed,  advertised 
or  listed  in  this  issue  of  Harper's  Magazine.) 

AMERICAN   LIBRARY   SERVICE 

117   West   48th    Street,    Dept.    H,    New   York    36,    N.    Y. 
N.B.    We   also   BUY    hooks   and   magazines. 


RUSSELL  KIRK 

Author  of  The  Conservative  Mind 
is  now  editing  MODERN  AGE: 
A  CONSERVATIVE  REVIEW 

Quarterly— $3.00  a  year 

"Speaks  out  forth  rightly"—  London  Times 

FREE  COPV  ON   REQUEST 

Write  Foundation  for  Foreign  Affairs,  Inc. 
64  E.  Jackson  Blvd.,  Chicago  4.  III. 


88 


Who  are  these 

UNITARIANS? 


The  booklet,  Introducing  Unitarian- 
ism,  will  be  sent  to  those  interested 
in  liberal  religion.  Thousands  who 
previously  have  thought  they  had 
"to  think  alone  and  like  it"  have 
read  this  book  and  found  for  them- 
selves a  happy  church  home  within 
the  Unitarian  Fellowship,  in 
company  with  Emerson,  Jefferson, 
Holmes,  Priestley,  Stein- 
metz,  Darwin,  Morse, 
Bret  Harte,  Walt  Whit- 
man, Mark  Twain,  Low- 
ell, and  other  great 
thinkers,  past  and 
present. 


MAIL   THIS   COUPON    WITH    IOC    TO 
UNITARIAN    LAYMEN'S    LEAGUE 
Dept.  H-3-A,  25  Beacon  St..  Boston  8.  Mass. 
Please  send   me   booklets  on    Unitarianism 

Name 


Address- 


Wd^£ 


rrrr^ 


A  SCHOOL 
FOR  GIRLS 

SUMMIT 
NEW  JERSEY 


Since  1  si>4  a  school  of  distinctly)   pui 
;■"        i<>  graduate   alert,   poised    purls, 
u.ll-ti ained  in  even  respect  foi  college 
life.  Spacious  dorm   on  extensive  cam 
[in-  20  miles  I  com    w<      eounti  j   and 
cosmopolitan  Living.  Music,  art,  drama 
tics,  sports,  riding,  all  activities.   New 
Pictorial   Booklet 
Miss  Florence  L.  Wolfe,  BA.,  MA.,  Hdm. 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


MARY  A.  BURNHAM  SCHOOL 

For  girls.  Thorough,  college  preparation.  Fully  ac- 
credited. Music  and  Art  emphasized.  College  town 
advantages.  Hiding.  Skiing.  Swimming.  All  sports.  Mjen- 
sendieck  method  for  posture  National  enrollment.  81st 
year.  Gymnasium.  Summer  School.  Newport,  R.I.  Catalogs. 
Mrs.    Georae    W.    Emerson.    Box   43.    Northampton.    Mass. 


UNUSUAL 
LITERARY    ITEMS 


THE  OLDEST  WRITERS'   SERVICE 

Literary  Agent,  established  37  years.  Manuscript* 
criticized,  revised,  typed,  marketed.  Special  attention  to 
Book  manuscripts.  Poetry.  Catalogue  on  request. 

Agnes  M.   Reeve, 
Dept.  B,  Franklin,  0. 


ATHEIST  BOOKS 

32-page  catalogue  free. 
Truth  Seeker  Co.       38  Park  Bow.  New  York  8.  N.  T. 


OUT-OF-PRINT   BOOKS 

—AT   LOWEST  PRICES1 

Tou   name   It — we  find   It  I   Fast    service.    No  obligation. 
Send  us  your  wants! 

INTERNATIONAL   BOOKFINDERS 
Box   3003-H.  Beverly    Hills.    Calif. 


not  care  to  have  them  taught  algebra 
by  anyone  who  believes  in  the  the- 
ory of  "incidental  learning"  (the 
theory  that  a  subjeel  <  .m  be  picked 
up  incidentally  while  the  student  is 
engaged  in  other  projects  or  activi- 
ties). 

But,  however  that  may  be,  the  Eaci 
is  that  all  points  <>l  view  cannot  be 
represented,  and  il  academic  free- 
dom depended  on  such  representa- 
tion (.is  ii  does  not >,  then  at ademic 
Ereedom  would  be  impossible. 
Think,  for  example,  ol  the  sunk 
ol  Shakespeare  in  college.  Think  of 
hon  man)  different  ionises  you 
would  need  to  have  to  represent  all 
points  of  view  on  the  authorship 
alone— you  would  have  to  have  a 
Baconian,  an  Oxfordian,  a  Marlov- 
ian,  a  Dyerite,  and  so  on  and  so  on; 
you  would  even  need  a  Shake- 
spearean. Then  think  of  all  the 
other  (ouiscs  you  would  n<c<\  to 
represent  all  points  ol  view  on  the 
chronology,  the  text,  and  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  plays.  Ii  is  impos- 
sible. No  philosoph)  department  in 
America  is  large  enough  to  include 
a  spokesman  lor  every  philosophy; 
no  economics  department  is  huge 
enough  to  include  a  spokesman  for 
every  economic  theory;  and  none 
needs  to  be.  What  Adler  means  is 
that  he  thinks  Communists  should 
be  permitted  to  teach.  There  is  a 
fairly  good  argumenl  on  his  side,  but 
it  does  not  depend  on  the  principle 
that  all  points  of  view  should  be 
represented. 

Vet  il  there  were  nothing  else  of 
value  in  Adler's  book  (and  there  is 
a  good  deal),  it  would  be  worth  read- 
ing for  one  chapter  alone,  a  chapter 
called  "The  I.  O.  Hoax."  This  is  a 
discussion  which,  if  taken  seriously, 
could  make  an  important  change  in 
our  estimate  of  the  resources  of 
human  intelligence  available  to  us. 
For  Adler  persuasively  argues  that 
the  I.Q.  has  come  to  be  regarded  as 
a  measure  of  innate  ability,  as  a  fixed 
limit  on  what  can  be  expected  of 
the  child,  and  is  used  by  the  schools 
to  excuse  their  own  failures.  He  be- 
lieves that  schools  should  entirely 
stop  using  I.  O.  tests  and  use  only 
achievement  tests,  and  that  they 
should  stop  having  "second  track" 
curriculums  to  which  students  with 
low  I.  Q.'s  are  permanently  con- 
demned and  instead  set  up  "feeder 
courses"    in   which    those   with   low 


si  ores  on  at  hievemenl  tests  would  be 
specially  trained  until  the)  were 
read)  to  entei  the  "fust  track."  Adler 
is  mi  intent  on  maintaining  that  all 
God's  chillun  must  have  shoes  that 
a  c.ihIc'ss  leading  might  give  the 
impression  that  he-  thinks  the)  all 
have  feet  ol  the  same  size,  but  in 
I. it  t  Adler  does  not  deny  that  there 
are  differences  in  human  intelli- 
gence;  he  onh  argues  that  since  we 
have  found  no  reliable  wa\  of 
measuring  those  differences  we  have 
no  business  setting  up  an  educa- 
tional s\stem  based  on  them. 

A     NECESSARY     BRIDGE 

PAUL       WOODRING'S      A 

Fourth  of  a  Nation  (McGraw-Hill, 
$4.50)  is  an  entertaining  and  in- 
formative attempt  to  close  the  most 
disgraceful  schism  dividing  the  aca- 
demic community  today:  the  schism 
between  those  who  are  concerned 
with  the  content  ol  education  (the 
subjec  t-mattei  ists)  and  those  who  are 
concerned  with  the  method  of  edu- 
cation (the  edu<  ationists). 

Except  lor  an  occasional  flare-up 
ovei  something  like  the  leaching  of 
reading,  there  seems  to  be  compara- 
tively little  public  criticism  of  the 
nursery  schools,  kindergartens,  and 
lower  grades,  all  of  which  are  domi- 
nated by  the  educationists  and  the 
theory  that  the  growth  and  develop- 
ment of  the  individual  child  are  the 
matters  of  primary  concern.  Except 
lor  an  occasional  flare-up  over  some- 
thing like  the  loyalt)  ol  teachers, 
i  here  seems  to  be  comparatively  little 
public  criticism  of  the  colleges, 
which  are  dominated  (except  lor 
schools  of  education)  by  the  subject* 
matterists  and  the  theory  that  the 
growth  and  dissemination  of  the 
various  branches  of  knowledge  are 
the  matters  of  primary  concern.  The 
problematic  area  in  education  lies 
in  between,  in  the  secondary  schools, 
the  junior  and  senior  high  schools. 
Since,  according  to  one  of  the  con- 
tributors to  Brainpower  Quest,  boys 
and  girls  make  their  decisions  to  go 
into  science,  engineering,  and  other 
fields  in  the  secondary  schools,  and 
since  it  is  there  that  they  receive  or 
fail  to  receive  the  training  necessary 
for  them  to  go  on,  the  controversy 
over  what  group  or  theory  should 
dominate  those  schools  is  no  trivial 
matter. 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


The  educationists  have  wanted  to 
reach  up  and  control  secondary  edu- 
cation, and  have  pretty  well  suc- 
ceeded in  doing  it:  the  subject-mat- 
terists,  alarmed  at  what  the  educa- 
tionists have  made  of  the  secondary 
schools,  now  want  to  reach  down 
and  control  them.  Since  neither 
group  knows  or  understands  or 
trusts  the  other,  they  are  tragically 
failing  to  build  the  bridge  that 
would  enable  the  individual  to  pass 
from  childhood  to  adolescence,  to 
move  from  an  education  centered  on 
himself  to  an  education  centered  on 
the  world  outside,  smoothly  and  suc- 
cessively. 

There  will  be  varying  estimates  of 
Woodring's  attempt  to  provide  the 
blueprints  for  such  a  bridge  in  A 
Fourth  of  a  Nation  (the  title,  by  the 
way,  simply  refers  to  the  proportion 
of  the  American  population  now  in 
school):  the  most  valuable  part  of 
the  book  is  the  very,  skillful  job  of 
putting  the  whole  controversy  in  its 
historical  setting.  It  is  a  sad  fact 
that  though  several  of  the  most  in- 
fluential critics  of  public  education 
have  been  trained  as  historians,  they 
have  seldom  tried  to  look  at  what 
has  happened  to  American  educa- 
tion historically.  Woodring,  a  pro- 
fessor of  psychology  in  a  teachers' 
college  at  the  time  this  book  was 
written,  does. 

A  Fourth  of  a  Nation  is  written 
concisely,  with  wit  and  imagination 
(qualities  lacking  in  Adler's  book), 
and  the  first  sections  are  particularly 
recommended  to  anyone  interested 
in  the  controversy  now  raging. 

MORE     BRIEFLY     MENTIONED 

I N  American  Education  in  the 
Twentieth  Century  (Harvard,  $5) 
I.  L.  Kandel  shows  little  of  the 
sprightliness  of  Woodring;  in  fact  he 
has  written  a  rather  dull  and  very 
good  book.  The  dullness  arises 
largely  from  the  fact  thai  the  book 
belongs  to  a  series  devoted  to  the 
description  of  various  aspects  of 
American  life  in  the  twentieth  cen- 
tury, and  Kandel  has  taken  the  job 
of  description  very  seriously.  Al- 
though he  has  by  no  means  refrained 
from  criticism,  he  advances  his  criti- 
cisms so  unobtrusively  that  their 
shrewdness  and  severity  are  often 
disguised.  In  telling  his  story  Kandel 
quotes  generously  from  official  docu- 


ments    and    organizational    report 
that  are  not  very  entertaining  read- 
ing but  necessary  to  an  understand- 
ing of  what  has  happened. 

Adler's  and  Woodring's  books  are 
lively  and  disputatious  enough  to 
hold  the  casual  reader's  interest;  to 
read  Kandel  you  have  to  be  inter- 
ested in  the  subject.  But  if  you  are 
interested,  you  can  learn  a  great 
deal  from  him  about  the  road  we 
have  taken  in  public  education. 
Kandel  is  a  professor  emeritus  at 
Teachers'  College,  Columbia,  and 
his  story  centers  on  the  develop- 
ments that  have  taken  place  there, 
but  he  is  not  a  propagandist. 

The  Second  Report  to  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  President's  Committee 
on  Education  Beyond  the  High 
School  (Government  Printing  Office) 
has  been  out  six  months  but  remains 
eminently  worth  reading.  It  con- 
tains a  wealth  of  good  sense  on  the 
subjects  discussed  and  is  clearly  if 
repetitiously  presented.  Perhaps  the 
most  curious  piece  of  information 
that  emerges  from  the  report  is  that 
we  seem  to  have  less  command  of 
the  facts  about  what  is  going  on  in 
college  education  than  about  almost 
any  other  activity  of  comparable 
scope  in  the  country.  Another 
curiosity  is  how  little  of  American 
higher  education  is  financed  by  stu- 
dents' borrowing  (about  1.5  per 
cent).  It  is  odd  that  we  will  buy 
anything  on  time  except  learning. 
Presumably  the  arguments  against 
borrowing  are  early  marriage  and 
the   uncertainty  of  military  service. 

For  Future  Doctors  (Chicago, 
$3.50)  is  a  collection  of  talks  and  in- 
formal essays  by  the  late  Alan  Gregg, 
for  many  years  director  of  the  medi- 
cal sciences  division  and  later  vice- 
president  of  the  Rockefeller  Founda- 
tion. All  the  essays  deal  in  one  Avay 
or  another  with  medical  education, 
especially  outside  the  classroom: 
they  show  a  consistent  interest  in  (he 
inner  growth  of  the  physician,  and 
much  of  the  material  is  autobio- 
graphical. Dr.  Gregg  points  out  a 
lack  of  "case  studies"  of  medical  edu- 
cation—studies of  how  and  why  a 
physician  suddenly  grows  or  'urns 
a  corner  in  his  internal  development 
—and  this  posthumous  collection 
docs  something  to  remedy  (hat 
lack.  (Incidentally,  the  "case  study" 
method  lias  recently  been  looked 
upon    with     increasing    interest    by 


Going  Into 
Politics 


A  Guide  for  Citizens 

By  ROBERT  E.  MERRIAM 
and  RACHEL  M.GOETZ 

A  beginner's  guide  to  polit- 
ical action  in  which  the  au- 
thors —  Robert  Merriam  a 
professional  and  Rachel 
Goetz  an  amateur  politician 
—  show  the  citizen  what 
politics  is  like  on  the  inside  : 
from  penetrating  and  mov- 
ing around  inside  a  political 
party  to  getting  elected  (or 
defeated).  This  book  pro- 
vides realistic,  step-by-step 
information  on  participa- 
tion in  political  affairs  for 
every  civic-minded  man  and 
woman. 

At  your  bookstore  •  $2.50 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS; 


The  Community 
Theatre 

And  How  it  Works 
By  JOHN  WRAY  YOUNG 

A  long-needed,  long-awaited 
how-to  book  on  the  organi- 
zation and  operation  of  a 
community  theatre,  by  the 
Director  of  Shreveport's 
model  Little  Theatre.  "In-  i 
telligent  and  stimulating... 
a  must  for  anyone  planning 
to  work  in  that  field  and  for 
everyone  already  working 
in  it." — Howard  Lindsay 

"The  only  book  of  its 
kind,  and  unlikely  to  be  su- 
perseded for  a  long  time  as 
a  description  of  our  uncom- 
mercial theatre." —  John 
Gassner,  Yale  University 
School  of  Drama 

At  your  bookstore  •  $3.50 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS 


90 

educational  researchers,  and  an  ac- 
count of  what  may  be  the  raosl 
elaborate  attempt  ever  made  to  as- 
semble such  material  appears  in  this 
issue,  page  56:  "The  Case  of  the 
Furious  Children.") 

The  Tarnished  Tower  b)  Ann 
Marbut  (Mi  Kay,  $3.95)  is  an  unpre- 
tentious but  readable  novel  about 
politics  in  an  educational  institu- 
tion, "the  fastest-growing  state  uni- 
versity in  America."  Miss  Marbut 
has  broken  the  mold  of  the  conven- 
tional struggle  between  liberals  and 
conservatives  and  come  a  good  deal 
closer  to  the  truth  about  academic 
politics.  She  pits  the  opportunists. 
the  empire-builders  interested  onh 
in  quantity,  against  the  men  who 
believe  that  education  means  qual- 
ity. Unfortunately  she  is  not  able 
to  work  out  this  conflict  in  the  con- 
text of  institutional  life  and  has  to 
resolve  it  in  private  life,  as  if  it  were 
primarily  a  mattei  of  relations  be- 
tween  husbands  and  wives,  but  at 
least  she  has  sketched  the  problem. 

Herbert  Simmons  is  a  young 
Negro  novelist  who  has  written  a 
book  of  considerable  interest  about 
Negro  youth  in  a  big  city,  Corner 
Boy  (Houghton  Mifflin,  S3. 50).  The 
young  people  he  writes  about  are 
just  out  of  high  school,  at  an  age 
when,  according  to  the  writers  on 
education,  a  great  deal  of  talent  is 
lost,  especially  among  minority 
groups.  For  most  of  Simmons'  char- 
acters, the  choice  is  between  going  to 
college  and  going  into  rackets.  Col- 
lege is  for  them  a  slow  and  uncer- 
tain way  to  prestige;  the  rackets  are 
Easter  and  more  exciting.  Simmons' 
characterization  is  a  little  sketchy, 
but  he  writes  with  sympathy  and 
apparent  knowledge.  The  story 
moves  along  and  the  ending  has 
dramatic  force. 

Lura  Beam's  A  Maine  Village 
(Wilfred  Funk,  $3.50)  is  a  charming 
account  of  life  in  a  Maine  settle- 
ment of  fewer  than  300  people  at 
the  turn  of  (he  century.  This  is 
not  a  book  for  the  young,  but  any- 
one who  enjoys  the  painstaking, 
affectionate  reconstruction  of  the 
past,  without  condescension  or  senti- 
mentalizing, will  find  ii  a  jewel. 

For  present  purposes  the  most  rele- 
vant chapter  is  Miss  beam's  account 
of  the  one-room  school  she  attended 
sixty  years  ago.  Sonic  ol  the  school's 
practices  would   now   be   regarded  as 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

advanced;     there    were    no    report 

cards,  and  Students  were  not  divided 
into  grades  but  grouped  according 
to  their  abilities  in  the  various  sub- 
jects—the good  readers  read  together 
and  the  good  figurers  had  arithmetic 
together  and  so  on.  The  secret  of 
the  teaching  Miss  Beam  lays  bare  in 
a  single  sentence:  "Square  root  was 
taught  with  intensity  and  was  ac- 
luallv  a  popular  topic."  She  thinks 
that  the  greatest  weakness  of  the  edu- 
cati  tal  system  lav  in  its  complete 
fail  e  to  relate  what  was  taught  to 
the  hildren's  lives:  they  studied  the 
Re    :)lutionary    War    but    were    not 


told  that  Revolutionary  troops  ha 
passed  over  their  very  land;  the 
learned  a  definition  of  peninsul 
from  the  geography  book  but  it  di 
not  occur  to  them  that  the  hunk  d 
land  stickini;  out  in  their  lake  wa 
a  peninsula.  Miss  Beam  thinks  tha 
the  chiel  virtue  of  the  very  Iimite 
curriculum  was  that  it  made  Iti 
products  self-assured;  they  felt  tha 
they  knew  what  they  needed  t 
know.  Probably  nobody  can  be  tha 
self-assured  now,  but  a  reduction  o 
the  curriculum  in  most  secondar 
schools  and  colleges  would  be  at 
improvement. 


BOOKS 


in  brief 


KATIIERINE  GAUSS  JACKSON 


FICTION 

Amelie  and  Pierre,  by  Henri  Troyat. 
In  the  seventeenth  century  when 
Corneille's  he  Cid  was  being  acted 
in  Paris,  the  hero  and  heroine  were 
so  beloved  by  the  public  that  there 
was  a  saying  (as  I  remember  it): 
"Toute  Paris  a  pour  Chimene  les 
yeux  de  Rodrigue."  Now  that  t  he- 
sale  of  the  first  three  Amelie  novels 
has  passed  250,000  copies  in  France 
perhaps  the  line  could  be  rewritten: 
"Toute  Paris  a  pour  Amelie  les  yeux 
de  Pierre."  In  any  case  this  reader 
certainly  has  for  Amelie  the  eyes  of 
Pierre  and  has  had  as  much  sus- 
tained pleasure  from  the  two  quiet 
books,  Amelie  in  Love  and  Amelie 
and  Pierre  as  in  any  novels  I've  read 
in  the  last  few  years.  They  are  part 
of  a  trilogy  called  The  Seed  and  the 
Fruit,  the  family  saga  of  two  young 
people  from  Chapelle-aux-Bois  in 
the  Auvergne,  who  grow  up,  fall  in 
love,  marry,  and  in  this  volume, 
suffer  with  the  rest  of  their  country- 
men the  horror  of  World  War  I. 
From  the  talk  in  the  little  cafe 
(which  Amelie  runs  in  Pierre's  ab- 
sence at  the  front)  in  an  unimpor- 
tant Paris  side  street,  one  feels  with 
extraordinary  vividness  the  anguish 
of  those  now  so  primitive  battles 
long  ago  and  the  human  love  and 
affe<  lion  that  carried  people  through 
them.  This  story  of  passionate  mar- 
ried   love    has    simplicity,    strength, 


distinction,  and  absorbing  narrativJ 
interest.         Simon  k  Schuster,  $4.54 

The  House  on  the  Beach,  by  ¥..  Lj 
Withers. 

A    mystery-horror    story    about    < 
twelve-year  old    orphan    girl    in    tin 
clutches  of  her  stepfather  and  aun 
who  are   trying   to  murder  her  fo: 
her  money.  Of  course  no  other  adul 
will    believe   her  stories  of  what   id 
happening    and    the    cat-and-mousd 
suspense  goes  on  for  two  long  day^ 
and    many    incredible    pages.     One 
does  want   to  know   what   happen! 
and  reads  to  the  end,  but  the  pub- 
lishers do  it  a  disservice  in  compar 
ing  it  to   The  Mad  Seed  which  had 
great  literary  quality  and  a  greater 
horror  even   than   a   child's   terror 
that  of  an  evil  child  somehow  made 
believable.    This  could  more  reason- 
ably be  compared  to  The  Tall,  Dark 
Man  by  Anne  Chamberlain  though' 
that,  too,  was  less  violent  and  more 
convincing.    Still,  this  won't  be  put 
clown  unfinished. 

Rinehart,  S3 

The   Joy   Train,    by    Douglas   Fair- 
bairn. 

A  credible  and  moving  story  about 
a  contemporary  young  American  (we 
have  had  so  many  young  Britishers 
lately)  trying  to  alone  for  having 
forged  his  name  on  paintings  that 
were  not  his  own.  The  background 
of  the  story  and  the  method  of  atone- 
ment are  unusual,  even  bizarre,  but 
as  Mr.  Fairbairn  describes  them  they 
seem  perfectly  possible.  His  ear 
for  dialogue  is  excellent;  his  picture 
of  the  boy's  very  normal  middle- 
class    family    and    the    family    rcla- 


91 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

Lionships  is  remarkably  convincing; 
and  the  boy's  struggle  and  deter- 
jmination  to  find  himself  and  become 
painter  have  real  moral  stature. 

Simon  &  Schuster,  $3.50 


la  pa 


The  Gentleman  from  Indianapolis: 
A  Treasury  of  Booth  Tarkington, 

edited  by  John  Beecroft. 

This  rich  harvest  includes  three 
complete  novels-Alice  Adams,  Pen- 
rod,  and  The  Magnificent  Amber- 
sons;  seven  short  stories;  and  three 
excerpts  from  other  novels  (Gentle 
Julia,  Seventeen,  and  Little  Oruie). 
iAII  are  in  "Tark's"  best  manner,  all 
have  Indiana  backgrounds.  Enough 
said  to  assure  readers  of  delightful 
nostalgia.  Literary  Guild  choice  for 
IDecember.  Doubleday,  $4.95 

NON-FICTION 

Those  who  are  lucky  enough  to 
ihave  Christmas  money  and  a  taste 
for  art  books  are  twice  blessed,  for 
the  choice  this  season  is  impressive. 

Sienese  Painting,  by  Enzo  Carli. 

The  rise  of  the  Sienese  School  of 
painting  was  an  unusual  phenome- 
non and  this  history  of  it  (1250- 
1500')  shows  how  and  why.  It  had 
neither  a  political  nor  a  commercial 
culture  behind  it,  but  seems  to  have 
sprung  spontaneously  from  the  life 
of  the  people.  Their  houses  with 
their  simple  interiors,  their  bright 
quilts,  the  animals  and  flowers  they 
knew  (see  the  birds  in  Sassetta's 
lovely  "The  Journey  of  the  Magi"), 
their  countryside,  appear  again  and 
again  in  these  religious  pictures. 
And  the  colors  and  the  gold  they 
loved  are  beautifully  reproduced  in 
62  full  color  illustrations.  (There 
are  137  in  all.)  Professor  Carli's  text 
is  succinct  and  illuminating.  A  large, 
beautiful,   pleasurable   book. 

New  York  Graphic  Society,  $25 

The  Life  of  Christ  in  Masterpieces 
of  Art  and  the  Words  of  the  New 
Testament,  selection  and  introduc- 
tion by  Marvin  Ross,  Chief  Curator 
of  the  Lew  Angeles  County  Museum 
and  Curator  of  Medieval  Art  at  the 
Walters  Art  Gallery  in  Baltimore 
and  Brooklyn. 

Every  page  of  ibis  book  shows  the 
care  and  discrimination  with  which 
it  has  been  assembled.  The  selec- 
tions of  text  from  the  New  Testa- 
ment are  beautiful  and  moviii";  the 


Helpful  Books  for  Public  Speakers 

Whether  you  are  a  seasoned  speaker  or  are  only  called 
upon  to  speak  occasionally,  here  are  thousands  of  ideas 
and  a  wealth  of  sound  advice  to  help  you  speak  with 
confidence  and  ease  on  any  subject,  on  any  occasion  .  .  . 

THE  BOOK  OF 
UNUSUAL  QUOTATIONS 

By   Rudolf  Flesch 


This  unique  book  brings  you  more 
than  6,000  brief  prose  quotations  to 
add  zest  and  spice  to  your  speeches 
and  conversation.  Alphabetically  ar- 
ranged by  subject  under  more  than  a 
thousand  headings,  these  thought-pro- 
voking sayings  are  available  at  the 
flip  of  a  page. 

You  find  inspirational  as  well  as 
humorous  and  witty  quotations  from 
such  famous  people  as  Churchill,  Ovid, 
Oscar  Wilde,  Lord  Chesterfield,  etc. 
Here  are  no  trite  sayings.  Instead  you 
have  at  your  fingertips  a  wealth  of 
seldom-seen  quotations  that  will  stim- 
ulate your  thinking  and  dramatize  your 
ideas.  This  book  starts  where  ordinary 
quotation  books  leave  off. 

Only    $3.95 

THE  SPEAKER'S 

HANDBOOK  OF  HUMOR 

By   Maxwell   Droke 

This  humor-packed  volume  shows 
you  how  to  tell,  select  and  create 
funny  stories  for  every  occasion.  And 
it  brings  you  more  than  1,500  of  the 
author's  favorite  stories  to  brighten 
your  speeches,  illustrate  your  ideas, 
and   make   your  friends  laugh. 

Each  of  the  sparkling  stories  was 
chosen  for  its  point-making  value, 
humor  and  adaptability.  Maxwell 
Droke  gives  you  professional  lips  and 
practical  advice  on  how  to  deliver 
these  stories  for  the  greatest  impact. 
Two  indexes  and  a  handy  numbering 
arrangement  permit  you  to  locate  the 
most  suitable  story,  easily  and  quickly. 
Only  $4.95 


HOW  I  MASTERED 

MY  FEAR  OF 
PUBLIC  SPEAKING 
By   Elmer  Wheeler 


In  this  practical  book,  Elmer 
Wheeler  tells  how  he  overcame  pain- 
ful shyness  and  dread  of  audiences  to 
become  the  most  popular  business 
speaker  in  America  today.  You  dis- 
cover what  caused  this  remarkable 
change;  what  rules  and  ideas  helped 
him  develop  his  skill  as  a  speaker; 
and.  most  important,  how  you  can 
benefit   from  his   experience. 

Each  chapter  of  this  amazing  book 
gives  you  invaluable  advice  to  boost 
your  speech  above  the  "run-of-the-mill" 
variety — and  do  it  so  naturally  and  so 
easily  that  people  will  think  you  are 
a  born  speaker.  Only  $3.50 


IT'S   EASY  TO  INCREASE 
YOUR  VOCABULARY 

By   William   Morris 

This  fascinating  new  book  gives  you 
a  logical  day-by-day  system  of  adding 
thousands  of  words  to  your  vocabu- 
lary for  greater  pleasure  and  profit. 
The  author  shows  you  what  words  to 
use,  when  and  how  to  use  them  to  ex- 
press yourself  and  your  ideas  clearly, 
forcefully   and  correctly. 

Chock-full  of  quizzes,  games  and 
tests,  this  informative  book  will  pro- 
vide you  and  your  family  with  hours 
of  relaxation.  Self-scoring  tests  enable 
you  to  measure  your  progress  as  you 
add  thousands  of  colorful  words  to 
your  vocabulary.  Only  $3.95 


THE  SPEECHMAKER'S  COMPLETE  HANDBOOK 
By   Edward   L.    Friedman 

With  this  practical  book  as  your  guide,  you  can — starting  from  scratch — pre- 
pare sparkling,  applause-getting  speeches  on  any  subject.  Each  item  of  the 
thousands  of  stories,  unusual  bits  of  information,  and  biographical  facts  drama- 
tizes a  specific,  definite  point.  The  author  shows  you  how  to  work  this  ma- 
terial smoothly  into  your  talk — how  to  organize  it — and  how  to  deliver  your 
speech. 

Indexed  10  different  ways  for  instant  reference,  this  book  is  an  amazingly 
useful  tool  for  anyone  who  is  ever  called  on  to  speak.  It  also  gives  you  112 
complete  speeches  and  short  talks  covering  typical  speaking  situations  plus 
thousand  of  tested,  surefire  speech  suggestions.  Only  $4.9.> 

Ten  Days'  Free  Examination 

HARPER  &   BROTHERS 

51  East  33rd  Street,  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 


DTHE    SPEECHMAKER'S    COMPLETE 

HANDBOOK     (3906)      $4.9.3 


Gentlemen :       t    wish    to    examine    !  lie    following 
hook (») : 

DTHE    BOOK    OF   .UNUSUAL    QUOTA- 
TIONS    (3916)     $3.95 

□  HOW    I    MASTERED    MY    FEAR    OF 
PUBLIC    SPEAKING    (3917) $3.50 

DTHE     SPEAKER'S     HANDBOOK     OF 
HUMOR    (3913)     $4.95 

□  IT'S     EASY     TO     INCREASE     YOUR 
VOCABULARY    (3914)     $3.95 


Within  10  days  I  will  either  return  the  book(s) 
or  remit  only  the  listed  price  plus  a  few  ™r> 
mailing  charges. 

□  Charge  □  Enclosed     (Mailing    charges    paid    h) 
publisher;   same  guarantee  applies.) 


Name 
Address 
City    ... 


(Please   Print 


.Zone.  .  .  .  State 


-_l 


92 

color  reproductions  of  paintings, 
mosaics,  stained  glass  (some  of  them 
never  in  color  before)  are  magnifi- 
cent; and  the  i\]n'  and  decoration  of 
the  pages  are  pleasures  in  themseh  es. 
Harper,  $10 

A  Testament,  by  Frank  Lloyd 
Wright. 

The  "grand  old  man"  of  Amei  i(  an 
architecture  writes  in  language  as 
forthright  as  his  buildings  what 
amounts  to  two  books,  the  first,  a 
brief  but  pointed  story  of  his  long 
and  astonishing  life,  and  the  second, 
an  exposition  of  The  New  Archi- 
tecture. The  text  is  interspersed 
with  over  200  remarkable  drawings 
and  photographs  of  his  houses, 
schools,  office  buildings,  and  hotels- 
drawings  often  juxtaposed  to  the 
completed  structure.  The  vitality  of 
the  whole  is  extraordinary.  The 
statements  are  often  fiat,  on  the  sur- 
face and  stimulating  to  a  degree  in 
the  ideas  that  follow  in  their  wake. 
"Art  can  be  no  restatement"— or  "He 
who  knows  the  difference  between 
excess  and  exuberance  is  aware  of 
the  nature  of  the  poetic  principle." 
An  exciting  and  beautiful  book, 
exuberant,  I  think,  in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  term.       Horizon,  §12.50 

The  Museum  of  Modern  Art's  ex- 
hibit of  modern  German  art  of  the 
twentieth  century  makes  these  three 
books  particularly  timely. 

German  Expressionism  and  Ab- 
stract Art,  by  Charles  Kuhn  and 
Jakob  Rosenberg. 

This  book  is  a  rather  specialized 
study  based  on  the  pictures  and 
prints  that  are  housed  in  the 
museums  at  Harvard.  It  includes  a 
survey  of  modern  German  art  by 
Professor  Kuhn;  an  essay  on  the 
twentieth-century  German  graphic 
arts  by  Dr.  Rosenberg;  a  most  useful 
chronological  table  of  the  history  of 
German  art  since  1900;  and  a  cata- 
logue of  German  art  at  Harvard.  It 
contains  218  illustrations  but  except 
for  the  frontispiece,  they  are  not  in 
color.  Harvard,  $8.75 

Modem  German  Painting,  by  Hans 
Konrad   Roethal. 

As  the  title  indicates,  this  volume, 
which  boasts  sixty  color  plates,  con- 
centrates on  painting  and  drawings. 
It  contains  a  more  extensive  history 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

of  German  twentieth-century  pann- 
ing, biographical  sketches,  and  bib- 
liographies, and  because  the  geo- 
graphical choice  of  pictures  is  less 
limited  than  the  Harvard  book  it 
is  perhaps  more  fun  for  the  general 
leader.  Reynai,  $7.50 

German  Art  of  the  Twentieth  Cen- 
tury, by  Werner  Haftmann,  Allied 
Hent/en,  William  S.  Liebeinian. 
Edited  by  Andrew  Carnduff  Ritchie. 
Dr.  Haftmann  discusses  painting. 
Dr.  Hent/en  sculpture,  and  Mi. 
Liebeinian  prints  in  this  beautiful 
and  compact  volume  carrying  178 
illustrations,  48  in  color.  Sponsored 
by  the  Museum  of  Modern  Art  in 
collaboration  with  The  City  Art 
Museum  of  St.  Louis,  and  celebrat- 
ing the  extensive  show  of  German 
painting,  sculpture,  and  prints  which 
has  just  been  shown  at  the  Museum 
in  New  York  and  now  moves  to  St. 
Louis,  the  book  is  a  distinguished 
contribution  to  the  history  of  Ger- 
man art  and  of  related  European  art 
movements  for  fifty  years. 

Simon  &  Schuster,  $9.50 

The  Changing  Face  of  Beauty,  by 

Madge  Garland. 

More  than  400  pictures  illustrate 
4,000  years  of  beautiful  women— 
their  faces,  figures,  hair-do's,  and  the 
conventions  that  changed  them  from 
century  to  century.  Ears  and  eye- 
brows appear  and  disappear,  bosoms 
wax  and  wane,  waistlines  go  up  and 
down,  and  the  pictures  are  chosen 
with  discrimination  and  a  real  sense 
of  style.   Fascinating  and  fun. 

Barrows,  $10 

And  then  there  are  three  eye-fill- 
ing, notable  books  on  American 
places,  art,  and  crafts. 

The  American  Heritage  Book  of 
Great  Historic  Places,  by  the  editors 
of  The  American  Heritage. 

Three  thousand  places  important 
in  the  building  of  this  country  are 
here  accounted  for  either  in  pictures 
(700)  or  text.  The  book  is  divided 
into  nine  geographic  sections  with 
maps  for  each,  and  the  photographs 
and  drawings,  carefully  selected  and 
displayed,  are  beautiful,  instructive, 
and  somehow  moving.  The  book  has 
been  on  the  best-seller  list  almost 
from  the  day  it  was  published. 

Simon  &  Schuster,  $12.50 


Three  Hundred  Years  of  Americai 
Painting,  by  Alexander  Eliot,  Ar 
Editor  ol  Tunc.  Introduction  b' 
John  Walker,  Director  of  the  N 
tional  Gallery. 

Three  hundred  pages  of  distin 
guished  text  and  pictures  (250  i 
color).  Published  by  Time  and  dis, 
tributed  by  Random  House.    Sl.'i.5( 

America's  Arts  and  Skills,  by  th< 
editors  of  Life.  With  an  introduc 
tion  by  Charles  F.  Montgomery 
Director  of  the  Henry  Francis  Du 
Pont  Winieithiu  Museum,  Wintei 
thur,  Delaware. 

From  the  earliest  primitive  toolJ 
to  the  age  of  electronics  and  modern 
architecture  the  development  ol 
American  arts  and  skills  is  shownj 
in  spectacular  color  photographs  and 
explained   in   text  and  captions. 

Dutton,  $13.93 

FORECAST 

Memoirs  of  Professionals 

Professional  men  and  women  in 
all  walks  of  life  are  either  writing 
their  autobiographies  or  having  biog- 
raphies written  about  them  in  1958. 
Pennsylvania  Supreme  Court  Justice 
Michael  A.  Musmano  has  written 
Verdict!  The  Adventures  of  thei 
Voting  Laioyer  in  the  Brown  Suit,  a. 
book  of  reminiscences  which  Double- 
day  will  publish  in  February.  In  the, 
same  month  they  will  also  launch 
Doctor  in  Love  by  that  adventuring 
doctor,  Richard  Gordon,  who  also 
wrote  Doctor  in  the  House,  and1 
Doctor  at  Sea.  Lt. -General  Sir  John] 
Bagot  Glubb,  professional  soldier' 
and  former  Commander  of  the  Arab 
Legion  has  told  his  story,  A  Soldier 
with  the  Arabs,  and  Harper  will 
publish  it  in  February  too.  In  the! 
same  monththey  will  publish  A  Joy\ 
of  Gardening  by  V.  Sackville-West, 
who  combines  in  it  the  talents  of  a 
professional  writer  and  near-profes- 
sional gardener,  using  her  experience 
in  her  garden  at  Sissinghurst  Castle 
in  Kent  as  a  background  for  a  special 
book  for  Americans.  Putnam  an- 
nounces The  Arctic  Year,  by  the 
arctic  explorer  Peter  Freuchen  and 
the  Danish  naturalist  Dr.  Finn  Salo- 
monsen— a  heavily  illustrated  month- 
by-month  account  of  life  in  the 
Arctic  Zone,  for  publication  in 
February,  IGY.  The  professional's 
lot  is  not  a  private  one. 


Will  Your  Next  Vacation  Really  Be  Something  to  Remember? 


The  surest  way  to  guarantee  a  new,  different,  and  exciting  vacation 
is  to  learn  the  hundreds  of  things  you  can  do  and  the  places  you 
can  visit  on  the  money  you  want  to  spend. 

Norman  Ford,  founder  of  the  world-known  Globe  Trotters  Club, 
tells  you  that  in  his  book,  Where  to  Vacation  on  a  Shoestring.  This 
is  the  man  who  has  spent  a  lifetime  searching  for  ways  to  get  more 
for  your  money  in  vacations  and  travel. 

In  bis  book,  you  learn 

— about     low-cost     summer     paradises,     farm     vacations,     vacations     on     far-off 

islands,   on   boats    drifting   down   lazy    streams    while   you   fish. 
— about   vacations   at    world-famous   beaches,   under   palm   and   eucalyptus   trees, 

in   government-subsidized  vacation   resorts,   in   Indian   country,   along   rugged 

coastlines,  on  ships  and  by  rail. 
— about   dude   ranches   you   can   afford,  what   lo    see,   do,    and   how   to   save   at 

national   parks   and   in   the  cities   most   Americans   want  to  visit. 


—about  low-cost  sailing  ship  cruises,  houseboat  vacations  in  the  North  Woods, 
fantastically  low-cost  mountain  vacations,  the  unknown  vacation  wonderlandi 
almost   at   your    front   door. 

How  to  stop  saying — 

"I  Always  Spend  Too  Much  On  My  Vacation" 

Of  course,  Norman  Ford  knows  where  to  get  real  vacation  bargains  in  all 
America,  from  Maine  to  California,  and  in  Canada,  Mexico,  etc.  At  no  time 
does  he  ask  you  to  spend  a  lot  of  money  to  enjoy  yourself,  no  matter  how 
really  different  and  exciting  is  the  vacation  you  choose  through  his  experi- 
enced advice.  Always,  he  tells  you  the  many  things  you  can  do  within  your 
budget  and  how  to  get  more  for  your  money  (if  you  travel  by  car,  he  shows 
how  most   auto   parties   can  save    S6   or   $7   a   day). 

You  can't  help  but  learn  something  that  is  just  meant  for  you.  Yet,  Where  to 
Vacation  on  a  Shoestring  costs  only  SI.  To  make  sure  your  next  vacation  will  be 
something  to  talk  about,  get    the  facts  now.     Use  the  coupon  to  order. 


'Round  the  World  on  a  Shoestring 

If  you  know  the  seldom-advertised  ways  of  reaching  foreign  countries,  you 
don't  need  fantastic  sums  of  money  in  order  to  travel.  You  could  spend 
$500-51000  on  a  one-way  luxury  steamer  to  Buenos  Aires — but  do  you  know 
you  can  travel  all  the  way  to  Argentina  through  colorful  Mexico,  the  Andes, 
Peru,  etc.,  by  bus  and  rail  for  just  $109  in  fares? 

You  can  spend  $5000  on  a  luxury  cruise  around  the  world.  But  do  you 
know  you  can  travel  around  the  world  via  deluxe  freighter  for  only  a  fourth 
the  cost  and  that  there  are  a  dozen  other  round  the  world  routings  for 
under  $1000? 

There  are  two  ways  to  travel — like  a  tourist,  who  spends  a  lot,  or  like  a 
traveler,  who  knows  all  the  ways  to  reach  his  destination  economically, 
comfortably,  and  while  seeing  the  most. 

Norman  Ford's  big  new  guide,  How  to  Travel  Without  Being  Rich, 
gives  you  the  traveler's  picture  of  the  world,  showing  you  the  lowest  cost, 
comfortable  ways  to  practically  any  part  of  the  world.  Page  after  page 
reveals  the  ship,  rail,  bus,  airplane  and  other  routings  that  save  you 
money  and  open  the  world  to  you. 

What  do  you  want  to  do?  Explore  the  West  Indies?  This  is  the  guide  that 
tells  you  how  to  see  them  like  an  old  time  resident  who  knows  all  the  tricks 
of  how  to  make  one  dollar  do  the  work  of  two.  Visit  Mexico?  This  is  the 
guide  that  tells  you  the  low  cost  ways  of  reaching  the  sights  (how  56c  takes 
you  via  8-passenger  automobile  as  far  as  those  not-in-the-know  pay  $5.60 
to  reach).  Roam  around  South  America?  Europe?  Any  other  part  of  the 
world?  This  is  the  guide  that  tells  you  where  and  how  to  go  at  prices  you 
can  really  afford. 

If  you've  ever  wanted  to  travel,  prove  now,  once  and  for  all,  that  travel 
is  within  your  reach.  Send  now  for  How  to  Travel  Without  Being  Rich. 
It's  a  big  book,  with  over  75,000  words,  filled  with  facts,  prices  and  routings, 
and  it's  yours  for  only  $1.50.  Even  one  little  hint  can  save  you  this  sum 
several   times  over. 


Passenger-carrying 

FREIGHTERS  are  the  secret 

of  low-cost  travel 

Yes,  for  no  more  than  you'd  spend  at  a  resort,  you  can  take  a  never-to-be- 
forgotten  cruise  to  Rio  and  Buenos  Aires.  Or  through  the  West  Indies 
or  along  the  St.  Lawrence  River  to  French  Canada.  In  fact,  trips  to 
almost  everywhere  are  within  your  means. 

And  what  accommodations  you  get :  large  rooms  with  beds  (not 
bunks),  probably  a  private  bath,  lots  of  good  food  and  plenty 
of  relaxation  as  you  speed  from  port  to  port. 

Depending  upon  how  fast  you  want  to  go,  a  round  the  world  cruise 
can  be  yours  for  as  little  as  $250-$300  a  month.  And  there  are  shorter 
trips.  Fast,  uncrowded  voyages  to  England,  France,  the  Mediterranean ; 
two  or  three  vacations  up  and  down  the  Pacific  Coast  or  elsewhere.  Name 
the  port  and  the  chances  are  you  can  find  it  listed  in  Travel  Routes 
Around  the  World.  This  is  the  book  that  names  the  lines,  tells  where 
they  go,  how  much  they  charge,  briefly  describes  accommodations.  Hundreds 
of  thousands  of  travelers  all  over  the  world  swear  by  it.  Travel  editors  and 
travel  writers  say  "To  learn  how  to  travel  for  as  little  as  you'd  spend  at 
a  resort  get  Travel  Routes  Around  the  World." 

It's  yours  for  just  $1,  and  this  fact-filled  128-page  book  includes  prac- 
tically every  passenger-carrying  service  starting  from  or  going  to  New 
York,  Canada,  New  Orleans,  the  Pacific  Coast,  Mexico,  South  America, 
England,  France,  the  Mediterranean,  Africa,  the  Indies,  Australia,  the 
South  Seas,  Japan,  Hawaii,  etc.  There's  a  whole  section  called  "How  to 
See  the  World   at  Low  Cost,"   plus  pages  and   pages  of  maps. 

A  big  $1  worth,  especially  as  it  can  open  the  way  to  more  travel  than 
you  ever  thought  possible.     For  your   copy,   simply   fill   out  coupon. 


WHERE  WILL  YOU  GO 
IN  FLORIDA? 

IF  YOU  WANT  A  VACATION  YOU  CAN  AFFORD 

Florida  needn't  be  expensive — not  if  you  know  just  where  to  go  for  whatever  you 
seek  in  Florida.  And  if  there's  any  man  who  can  give  you  the  facts  you  want  it's 
Norman  Ford,  founder  of  the  world-famous  Globe  Trotters  Club.  (Yes,  Florida  is 
his   home    whenever   he    isn't    traveling!) 

His  big  book,  Norman  Ford's  Florida,  tells  you,  first  of  all,  road  by  road,  mile 
by  mile,  everything  you'll  find  in  Florida,  whether  you're  on  vacation,  or  looking 
over   job,   business,   real    estate,    or   retirement    prospects. 

Always,  he  names  the  hotels,  motels,  and  restaurants  where  you  can  stop  for  the 
best  accommodations  and  meals  at  the  price  you  want  to  pay.  For  that  longer 
vacation,  if  you  let  Norman  Ford  guide  you,  you'll  find  a  real  "paradise" — just 
the    spot    which    has    everything    you    want. 

Of  course,  there's  much  more  to  this  big  book. 

IF  YOU  WANT  A  JOB  OR  A  HOME  IN  FLORIDA 

Norman  Ford  tells  you  just  where  to  head.  His  talks  with  hundreds  of  personnel 
managers,  business  men,  real  estate  operators,  slate  officials,  etc.,  let  him  pinpoint 
the  towns  you  want  to  know  about  if  you're  going  to  Florida  for  a  home,  a  job  with 
a  future,  or  a  business  of  your  own.  If  you've  ever  wanted  to  run  a  tourist  court 
or  own  an  orange  grove,  he  tells  you  today's  inside  story  of  these  popular  invest- 
ments. 

IF  YOU  WANT  TO  RETIRE  ON  A  SMALL  INCOME 

Norman  Ford  tells  you  exactly  where  you  can  retire  now  on  the  money  you've  got, 
whether  it's  a  liltle  or  a  lot.  (If  you  need  a  part-lime  or  seasonal  job  to  help  out 
your  income,  he  tells  you  where  to  pick  up  extra  income.)  Because  Norman  Ford 
always  tells  you  where  life  in  Florida  is  plesantest  on  a  small  income,  he  can 
help    you    take    life    easy    now. 

Yes,  no  matter  what  you  seek  in  Florida — whether  you  want  to  retire,  vacation, 
get  a  job,  buy  a  home,  or  star!  a  business,  Norman  Ford's  Florida  gives  you 
the  facts  you  need  to  find  exactly  what  you  want.  Yet  this  big  book  with  plenty 
of  maps  and  well  over  100,000  words  sells  for  only  $2 — only  a  fraction  of  the 
money   you'd   spend   needlessly   if   you   went   to   Florida   blind. 

For   your   copy    fill   out   coupon    below. 

fill  Out  and  Send  at  Once 
for  Quick  Delivery 


r 


Mail  to  HARIAN  PUBLICATIONS  134  Prince  Street 
Greenlawn  (Long  Island),  New  York 


I  have  enclosed  S (cash,  check,  or  money  order). 

I  he  books  checked  below.    You  will  refund  my  money  if  I 


Please  send  me 
an:  not  satisfied. 


□  Where  to  Vacation  on  a  Shoestring.     $1. 

□  Norman  Ford's  Florida.     $2. 

□  How  to  Travel  Without  Being  Rich.    $1.50. 

□  Travel  Routes  Around  the  World.    $1. 

□   Special  Offer:   All  books  above  for  $5. 


City     and     Slate. 


rAe /^RECORDINGS 


Edward  Tatnall  Canby 


slowly,  almost  to  the  point  of  stodginegj 
on  Inst  hearing.  ( A.  corresponding  group 
from  the  Vienna  Philharmonic  plays 
it  on  London  I.I.  1191.)    This  recording 

has  .1   fine  sound   though  the  string  bass 
seems  over-heavy  and  there  is  a  trace  of  I 
low -pitched   hum    that    will    be    audible] 
on  larger  speakers. 


GENERATIONS     OF     CHANGING     TASTE 


Beethoven:    Symphony    —  3    <"Eroica"). 
Cleveland    Orchestra,    Szell.     Epi<     1( 
3585. 

\  East,  yet  eloquenl  "Eroica,"  this  one, 
and  thoroughly  enjoyable,  casting  some 
pleasant!)  fresh  light  on  the  great  piece's 
inner  shaping— a  quick-paced,  panorama 

view,  on  tiptoe.  This  is  not  one  ol  those 
teeth-gnashing  exercises  in  modern  vio- 
lence—Szell  is  too  much  ol  a  good  Cen- 
tral European  to  tamper  with  its  Kiic 
qualities  and  the  symphon)  sings  where 
it  should.  But  the  sharp,  syncopated 
chords  are  quick  swipes  ibis  time,  rather 
than  the  usual  weighty  thundei  blows, 
the  dissonant  trumpet  is  deliberately 
shocking,  almost  triumphantly  so.  and 
the  grand  climax  positively  crows  with 
accomplishment. 

Beethoven,  like  Bach  and  the  othei 
big  ones,  has  enough  in  him  lot  gener- 
ations of  changing  taste  to  exploit:  and 
maybe  we  are  about  to  see  a  new  renais- 
sance lor  his  music  in  new  terms.  The 
older  era  made  much  talk  ol  his  cosmic 
architecture  but  didn't  do  much  about 
it  in  the  playing.  This  symphony  in  par- 
ticular has  too  often  been  dragged  out. 
ponderously,  played  tor  every  detail  ol 
monumental  grandeur  along  the  way. 
But  lew  listeners,  howevei  impressed, 
can  hold  onto  the  larger  concept  ol  the 
piece  in  such  performances.  This  was 
the  Wagnerian  approach;  you  were  hyp- 
notized by  the  very  immensity  of  the 
thing  and,   sometimes,   you   went    oil    to 


sleep,  to  wake  up  and  cheer  at  the  cud. 
The  wonderfid  thing  is  that  Beetho- 
ven's  architecture  is  there,  and  it  can  be 
made  audible,  upon  demand,  in  mysteri- 
ously ever-new  ways.  Our  present  taste 
for  clean  lines  and  airy  spaces  does 
Beethoven  no  harm  at  all.  The  lug 
shapes  aie  undeniably  and  ncwh  evi- 
dent, all  clean  metal  and  glass  against  a 
serene  blue  sky. 

Beethoven:  Septet,  Op.  20.  Chamber 
Music  Ensemble  of  the  Berlin  Phil- 
harmonic Orch.  Decca  DL  9934. 

This  colorful  and  beautifully  written  lit- 
tle divertimento  lor  wind  and  string 
solos  was  Beethoven's  most  popular 
salon  piece  during  his  lifetime— until 
lie  could  no  longer  stand  the  mention 
ol  it.  (But  at  first  he  was  extremely 
proud  of  the  work  and  rightly.)  It  is 
music,  so  to  speak,  for  social  listening: 
there's  nothing  emotionally  profound 
about  it  and  there  should  not  have 
been— Beethoven,  remember,  lived  in  a 
time  when  music  was  written  to  fit  the 
occasion,  rather  than  the  composer's 
(  motional  whim.  It  serves  its  purpose  as 
well  now  as  it  did  then— easy,  light  en- 
tertainment, put  together  with  immense 
skill. 

The  North  German  performance  is 
full  of  life  and  vigor,  if  not  always  sc  rup- 
ulously  clear  in  the  details;  it  makes  an 
interesting  contrast  to  the  present 
Viennese  tradition,  which  takes  it  more 


WORTH   LOOKING   INTO   .    .   . 


Prokofieff:  Cello  Concerto.  Milhaud: 
Cello  Concerto  #1.  Janos  Starker;  Phil- 
harmonia,  Susskind.  Angel  35418. 

Mendelssohn:  Cello  Sonata  in  D.  Strauss: 
Cello  Sonata  in  F.  Andre  Navarra,  cello, 
Ernest  Lush,  piano.    Capitol    P18045. 

Beethoven:  Diabelli  Variations,  Op.  120. 
Leonard   Shure,    piano.    Epic   LC   3382. 

Franck:  Piece  Heroique;  Three  Cho- 
rales. Edouard  Commette,  Organ  Cathe- 
dral St.   Jean  de  Lyon.    Angi  I    15369. 

Selections  from  the  Sacred  Pontifical 
Liturgy      ol      the      Russian      Orthodox 


Church,  Choir  of  the  Russian  Orthodox 
Cath.  of  Paris,  Spassky.    Epic  LC  3384. 

Col.  World  Library  of  Folk  and  Primi- 
tive Music,  Vol  XV:  Northern  and  Cen- 
tral Italy;  Vol.  XVI:  Southern  Italy 
and  the  Islands,  eel.  Alan  Lomax.  Co- 
lumbia KL  5173,  5174. 

Puccini:  La  Boheme.  Gigli,  Albanese, 
el  <d.  (La  Scala  production,  from  pre- 
war 78s.)  His  Master's  Voice  513/514 
(2)  Imported. 

Sounds  of  Steam  Railroading.  (Norfolk 
&  Western)  O.  Winston  Link  Produc- 
tions, 58  E.  34th  St.  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 


Haydn:  Symphony  #%.  Mozart:  Sym- 
phony #35  ("Haffnei").  Detroit  Syna 
phony,   Paray.    Mercury   MG5Q129. 

Paul  Paray,  an  irrepressible  Frenchman 
of  the  older  generation,  does  astonishing 
ind  sometimes  outlandish  things  to  such 
pompous  Teutonics  as  Wagner  and 
Liszt,  lie  is  always  highly  musical,  and 
in  his  handling  ol  these  earlier  Austri- 
•  nis.  Paray  turns  out  to  be  a  first-rate 
stylist,  with  all  the  musical  fervor  ol  his 
other  work  and,  in  this  case,  very  little 
that  is  eccentric.  The  phrasing  is  beau- 
tifully intense— exaggerated,  but  at  the 
right  places:  the  music  dances,  bounces, 
is  full  of  energy.  And  Haydn,  who  too 
often  is  bounced  cutely,  is  full  of  life 
and.  il  you  will,  seriousness:  what  is 
particularly  nice  is  the  concertante ,  semi- 
intimate  style  of  playing,  with  much  solo 
feeling. 

Only  minor  drawback  is  the  Detroit 
orchestra's  inability  always  to  keep  up 
with  the  letter  ol  Paray's  intentions. 
There  is  some  rough  playing  here  and 
there.  But  we  have  had  far  too  much 
smooth,  soulless  perfection  in  our  big 
orchestras.  This  recording   is  all  soul. 

Haydn:  Symphony  #45  ("Farewell'');] 
Symphony  #82  ("The  Bear").  Southwest 
German  Radio  Orch..  Roll  Reinhardt] 
Vox   PL   10310. 

Evidently  one  may  be  born  in  Heidel- 
berg, as  was  Roll  Reinhardt.  and  grow 
up  to  be  at  thirty  a  mature  and  under-] 
standing  conductor  of  Haydn.  Mosd 
young  conductors  can't  touch  him.  It 
isn't  easy  to  believe  that  these  suaveJ 
wise  performances  are  from  a  youngj 
leader,  espee  ially  since  the)  are  clearly! 
not  carbon-copy  repertory  readings  butj 
the  products  of  individual  thinking  and 
intuition. 

The  symphonies  are  not  played  with 
technical  perfection;  there  are.  again,  a 
good  many  unfinished  edges.  But  the] 
whole  feeling,  lor  these  very  unlike 
works,  is  on  the  way  to  being  deeply 
right.  In  the  later  one,  composed  fori 
Paris,  there  is  both  that  joyous,  bustling 
flamboyance— sounding  so  much  like 
Mo/art— that  was  typical  of  Parisian, 
style,  and  the  wise,  untroubled  pro-i 
iundity  of  the  later  Haydn.  Thescj| 
things  Rolf  Reinhardt  hears  as  Btunc 
Walter  might. 

And    in    the    "Farewell,"    one   of    the 
greatest  of  small  symphonies,   he   hears 
the    first    movement's    agitated    module 


: 


Here  is 


where  FDS  pays  off! 


You're  looking  at  an  ant's-eye  view  of  a  diamond 
needle  in  a  record  groove.  It's  magnified  250  times 
to  illustrate  the  enormous  margin  for  error  in  the 
playback  of  an  ordinary  recording. 

But  the  symbol  next  to  it  is  never  put  on  ordinary 
recordings.  It  reads  "Full  Dimensional  Sound"  and 
when  you  see  it  on  the  upper  right  hand  corner  of  a 
Capitol  album  you  know-— 


1.  An  artist  of  the  first  rank  has  given  an  exceptional 
performance. 

2.  This  performance  has  been  flawlessly  recorded  by 
Capitol's  creative  staff  and  sound  engineers. 

3.  It  has  been  judged  by  the  record-rating  "Jury"  as 
being  worthy  of  the  "FDS"  seal — denoting  the 
highest  fidelity  known  to  the  recorder's  art. 

No  other  symbol  promises  so  much.  And  delivers  it. 


Incomparable  High  Fidelity — Full  Dimensional  Sound  Albums 


9G 


THE     NEW     RECORDINGS 


tion  ancl,  in  the  second,  the  strange, 
thin,  three-part  counterpoint,  the  spare 
lines  of  melody  stretching  into  Fathom- 
lessly distant  tonal  relationships;  he  is 
aware  of  the  richness  and  the  peace  ol 
tin1  last  movement,  where  the  instru- 
ments depart  one  by  one,  leaving  a 
string  quartet,  then  two  violins  alone,  to 
i.un    the  unbroken  spell  to  its  end. 

Haydn:  Symphony  #41  ("Trailer  Sym- 
phonic"); #49  ("La  Passione").  Vienna 
State  Opera  Orch..  Scherchen.  West- 
minster XWN   18613. 

One  ol  the  paradoxes  ol  nineteenth-cen- 
tury Romanticism  is  that  it  was  anti- 
Romantic  toward  its  immediate  Eore 
bears,  almost  jealously  so.  Mozart  and 
Haydn  lived  in  the  periwig  era  and 
their  music  was  played  in  periwig 
fashion;  only  a  few  chosen  "prophetic" 
works— mostly  the  minor  keys— were  al- 
lowed a  place  in  Romanticism  and  a 
Romantic-style    play  ing. 

And  so,  paradoxically,  a  twentieth 
century  task  is  the  restoration— to  Ro- 
manticism—of much  in  Haydn  ancl 
Mo/art,  as  we  must  restore  Beethoven 
to  classicism.  Scherchen's  Haydn,  early 
and  late,  has  been  a  revelation  in  this 
respect  and  Westminster's  wholesale  re- 
issue of  his  recordings  is  of  great  value. 

These  two  are  from  that  short  pie- 
Romantic  time  of  storm  and  stress 
around  1770,  the  time  ol  the  "Farewell" 
and  the  fact  that  the  later  Haydn  is  less 
outwardly  passionate  (though  in- 
wardly more  deeply  Romantic)  makes 
them  particularly  interesting.  See  espe- 
cially Scherchen's  late  Haydn,  Sym- 
phonies  93-104. 

Mozart:  Symphony  #35  ("Haffner"). 
Berlioz:  Waverley  Overture;  Three  Ex- 
cerpts from  "The  Damnation  of  Faust." 

Orchestra  drawn  from  Alumni  of  the 
National  Orchestral  Association,  Leon 
Barzin.  Columbia  ML  5176. 

This  recording,  played  by  members  of 
the  400-odd  alumni  of  this  splendid 
training  orchestra,  commemorates  the 
organization's  twenty-fifth  anniversary, 
under  Leon  Barzin's  direction.  The  Na- 
tional is  a  unique  orchestra,  that  ac- 
cepts via  scholarship  youngsters  on 
their  way  to  the  orchestras  of  our  coun- 
try and  gives  them  a  year  or  so  of  rigor- 
ous practical  training— rehearsals,  con- 
certs, broadcasts.  Mr.  Barzin,  who  now 
conducts  the  New  York  City  Ballet  as 
well,  has  exactly  the  right  humorous, 
disciplinarian  approach  to  the  young 
players. 

As  a  performance,  by  men  from  doz- 
ens of  musical  posts  throughout  the 
country,  this  was  surely  unusual,  a  sort 
of  professional  convention  and  Old 
Home    Week.    As    music,    the    result    is 


inevitably    colored     by    professionalism. 

1 1  is  both  remarkably  virtuoso  and 
musically  unconvincing.  It  is  a  display 
ol  graduate  orchestral  technique,  lor  the 
old  schoolmaster:  ii  reflects,  as  well,  all 
the  prejudices  and  narrownesses  ol  the 
practicing  orchestral  musician— and  this 
includes  Mr.  Barzin  himself.  Mozart 
.ml  Berlioz  are  pretty  much  lost  en- 
route.  The  "Haffner"  is  played  from  the 
original  manuscript,  owned  by  the  Ass<> 
ciation.  You  will  not  detect  important 
differences.  The  sound  is  conventionally 
big-orchestra,  expertly  polished  and 
quite  routine.  I  he  Berlioz  is  the  same— 
much  display  and  little  ol  that  native 
electricality  that  makes  the  music  worth 
hearing. 

Ml  ol  which  is  no  slur  on  the  Na- 
tional, bin  rather,  a  reflection  on  the 
state  of  American  orchestral  playing 
today.  It  was  never  the  National's  busi- 
ness  to  reform  it. 

Schubert:  The  Death  of  Lazarus.  Soloists, 
NDR  Chorus,  Philharmonia  Orch.  Ham- 
burg.   Winograd.    MOM    F3526. 

The  first  act  ol  an  uncompleted  Schu- 
bert opera  is  here  brought  to  perform- 
ance—it was  hailed  by  Alfred  Einstein  as 
a  neglected  masterpiece  in  his  Schubert 
(Oxford,  1951).  The  music  won't  be  easy 
for  most  listeners,  but  it  is  without  a 
doubt  remarkable.  How  the  work  could 
have  survived  as  an  opera  is  hard  to 
imagine;  there  was  never  such  a  quiet, 
gentle,  inward-turning  opera  as  this, 
concerned  entirely  with  an  intimate  and 
very  personal  death-bed  scene,  where 
Lazarus  talks  with  his  closest  family  and 
friends,  and  dies  in  theii  midst.  No 
heroics,  no  dramatics. 

But  those  who  know  how  poignantly 
Schubert  can  turn  the  simplest  melody, 
with  the  simplest  of  chords,  will  under- 
stand how  this  gentle  piece  can  grow 
upon  the  listener  who  has  it  in  his  home 
to  hear,  far  from  the  unlikely  stage.  It 
is,  somewhat  incidentally,  a  pioneer  work 
in  respect  to  the  free  blending  of  aria 
and  recitative,  anticipating  even  Wag- 
ner's "Lohengrin."  But  Wagner  made  a 
lot  more  noise. 

A  small,  dedicated  cast  of  singers,  none 
of  very  great  power,  manages  rather 
beautifully  to  project  the  sense  and  feel- 
ing of  this  unusual  music.  The  orchestra 
plays  it  warmly  as  well. 

Milhaud:  Le  Pau,vre  Matelot  (1926). 
Milhaud:       Les       Malheurs      d'Orphee 

(1924).  Jacqueline  Brumaire,  Bernard 
Demigny,  Jean  Giraudeau,  Xavier  De- 
praz,  et  al.  Members  of  L'Orch.du 
Theatre  Nat.  de  L'Opera,  Milhaud. 
Westminster  XWN  11030;  XWN  11031. 

Here  are  two  apt  and  timely  releases- 
timely    in    that,    after    thirty-odd    years, 


these  beautifully  wrought  little  chamber 
operettas  seem  to  hit  the  spot  now  as 
they  never  could  have  before.  Just 
quaintly  nostalgi(  enough  ol  the  'twen- 
ties to  neutralize  any  left-over  trace  of 
radicalism,  they  are  piquantly  dissonant 
and  yet  tuneful,  soulful,  remarkably  pro-' 
lountl. 

One  of  them  is  the  story  of  Orpheus 
and  Eurydice  transposed  into  Provence, 
where  he  is  a  local  druggist-herb-doctor 
and  she  a  gypsy,  fleeing  her  revengeful 
tribe.  She  dies,  he  is  killed  by  her  three 
sisters,  unresisting,  in  the  midst  ol  a 
sentence;  the  scene  is  over  almost  as  it 
begins. 

The  other  story,  a  shocker  in  its 
double-take  at  the  end,  has  a  faithful 
wife  awaiting  her  sailor  husband  who 
went  to  sea  for  a  fortune;  he  returns, 
masquerades  as  a  rich  stranger  who  says 
the  husband  will  soon  be  back,  penni- 
less; the  wile  murders  him  in  the  night 
for  his  money  and.  never  knowing,  goes 
back  to  her  vigil,  happy.  Jean  Cocteau 
i-  the  author  of  this  one. 

The  performances  under  Milhaud  are 
dedicated,  all-French,  beautifully  cast, 
and  superbly  good  in  the  singing  and 
playing. 

Dukas:  Sorcerer's  Apprentice.  Wein- 
berger: Polka  and  Fugue.  Liszt:  Les  Pre- 
ludes. Strauss:  Dance  of  the  Seven  Veils. 

N.  Y.  Philharmonic,  Mitropoulos.  Co- 
lumbia   ML   5198. 

This  is  a  sad  display  lor  a  top  orchestra 
and  great  conductor,  dreadfully  wrong 
from  beginning  to  end.  One  can  only 
sit  back  and  speculate  as  to  what  hap- 
pened   and    how. 

The  titles,  at  least,  make  the  general 
intention  clear  enough.  They  are  war 
horses,  chosen  for  an  intended  hi-fi  im- 
pact, as  are  most  such  discs  nowadays. 
They  are  surely  not  Mitropoulos'  fa- 
vorites, or  specialties  of  the  orchestra. 

The  whole  thing  falls  dismally  be- 
tween two  stools.  Hi-fi  it  is,  but  gro- 
tesquely so,  I'm  tempted  to  say  almost 
amateurishly;  the  balance  is  atrocious 
and  generally  confusing,  as  though  some- 
body had  opened  the  wrong  mike.  The 
beginning  of  the  "Seven  Veils"  sounds 
like  a  jazz  percussion  piece,  the  winds 
snarl  in  the  "Sorcerer,"  and  the  strings 
play  too  close,  like  hotel  salon  music,  in 
"Les  Preludes."  Indeed,  it  couldn't  be 
as  bad  as  it  sounds;  the  mikes  have  done 
the  orchestra  in. 

And  yet,  musically,  the  great  con- 
ductor seems  to  be  pulling  backwards, 
too.  It  sounds  to  me  like  passive  re- 
sistance to  a  hateful  chore. 

It's  possible  that  Columbia,  the  Phil- 
harmonic, and  Mitropoulos  are  collec- 
tively just  too  earnest,  too  high-minded, 
to  do  the  distasteful  job— in  which  case 
I   can   only   admire   them. 


.■Iftcr  office  hours  in  Puerto  Rico.  Photograph  by  Elliott  Erwitt. 


The  Executive  Life  in  Puerto  Rico 


The  other  day  somebody  questioned 
our  wisdom  in  stressing  the  good 
life  in  Puerto  Rico.  "If  life  is  so  de- 
lightful," he  said,  "how  can  you  ex- 
pect executives  to  work?" 

Well,  they  do.  Over  four  hundred 
and  fifty  U.  S.  manufacturers  have  set 
up  new  plants  on  this  sunny  island.  Their 
net  profit  on  sales  is  three  times  as  high 
as  the  average  in  the  United  States. 


These  figures  speak  volumes.  Thev  re- 
flect the  stimulus  of  Puerto  Rico's  re- 
markable Operation  Bootstrap.  They 
also  give  some  idea  of  the  extraordinary 
industrial  renaissance  that  is  attracting 
manufacturers  at  the  rate  of  three  -new 
plants  a  week. 

But  they  cannot  express  the  more 
personal  rewards  you  get  from  being 
part  of  it  all.  Hence  our  picture.  It  was 


taken  on  Luquillo  Beach.  After  a  hard 
day,  wouldn't  you  appreciate  a  sea  so 
warmly  gentle  it  doesn't  even  tickle  the 
soles  of  your  feet?  And  how  about  a 
house  in  those  green  hills? 

It's  all  within  the  bounds  of  possibil- 
ity. This  whole  idyllic  picture  is  under 
five  and  a  half  hours  from  New  York. 

©1958— Commonwealth  of  Puerto  Rico, 
579  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 


i    I 


,. 


I 


..v 


^ 


<ir. 


83 


^ 


x 


Arrive!  of  the   Fashionable  Scotch 


WHETHER  you  are  meeting  Old 
Smuggler  for  the  first  time  or 
the  thousandth  time,  its  arrival 
rightfully  rates  the  "red  carpet." 

It  is  what  Scotsmen  call  a.  fashion- 
able Scotch.  Because  il  i>  developed 
with  natience  nil  scruple — because 
it  is  distinguished  by  great  softness 
and  delicaey  of  flavour — and  because 
it  carries  on  quality  traditions  that 
date  back  to  1835. 


The  precious  character  of  Old 
Smuggler  prompts  men  to  pay  it  a 
spontaneous  and  unique  tribute 
when  it  is  poured:  "Careful,  don't 
waste  a  drop — that's  Old  Smuggler." 
II  you  have  ffol  yet  enjoyed  the 
superb  delight  oi  Old  Smuggler, 
why  not  ask  lor  it  by  name  the  next 
time?  You  will  be  richly  rewarded. 
Please  take  another  look  at  the 
bottle  to  lix  it  firmly  in  your  memory. 


Distilled,  Blended  and  Bottled  in  Scotland 
Imported  by 

W.  A.  TAYLOR  &  COMPANY,  N,  Y.,  N.  Y. 

Sole  Distributors  for  tlie  U.S.A. 

BLENDED  SCOTCH  WHISKY  •  86  PROOF 


OLD  O/V 


usm 


SCOTCH  with  a  History 


FEBRUARY  1958    ►    SIXTY  CENTS 


Harper's 


magazine 


A  Chance  to  Withdraw 
Our  Troops  in  Europe 

George  F.  Kennan 


What  Two  Lawyers  Are  Doing  to  Hollywood 

Murray  Teigh  Bloom 

How  to  Choose  a  College,  If  Any 

John  W.  Gardner 

Antibiotics:  Too  Much  of  a  Good  Thing? 

Dr.  Vernon  Knight 


/HAT  IS  ADVERTISING  GOOD  FOR 


.. 


artin  Mayer 


A  suggestion  for  a  new  theory  of  advertising  what  role 
it  really  plays  in  our  society .. .and  how  to  tell 
whether  it  is  the  hero,  the  villain,  m  merely  a  butler 


\ 


Relax  enroute  to 

Australia 

via  ssMariposa...ssMonterey 


Settle  back.  Stretch  out.  Let  cares  float  away  under 
sunny  South  Pacific  skies.  This  is  your  adventure  in 
leisure:  19  thoroughly  restful  days  on  the  Matson 
way  to  Australia,  via  Tahiti  and  New  Zealand. 

You  arrive  relaxed,  refreshed,  and  ready  for  all  the 
fun  of  this  friendly  down-under  wonderland.  Matson 
travel  does  it  every  time.  Elegant  cuisine  and  service. 
Spacious,  air-conditioned  ships.  All  accommodations 
in  First  Class,  all  with  private  bath. 

SPECIAL    SPRINGTIME    TRAVEL    OPPORTUNITIES 

Space  now  available  for  these  sailings: 
April  2,  April  27,  May  18  and  June  II 
. . .  when  the  weather  is  at  its  glorious  best  all  along  the 
route.  Sail  round  trip  by  ship,  or  return  by  air  from 
New  Zealand  or  Australia.  Or  plan  an  exciting  journey 
around  the  Pacific  or  around  the  world.  Whatever  you 
choose,  the  Mariposa  or  Monterey  is  the  perfect  beginning 
for  an  unforgettable  adventure.  See  your  Travel  Agent. 


THE  SMART  WAY 

TO  THE  SOUTH  PACIFIC  AND  HAWAII 


MATSON    NAVIGATION    COMPANY     •      THE   OCEANIC  STEAMSHIP  COMPANY 

OFFICES  :  New  York  .  Chicago  .  San  Francisco  .  Seattle 
Portland  •  Los  Angeles  •  San  Diego  •  Honolulu 


Recruiting  Telephone  Ideas  for  the  Future 


1 

1 

jjJHPT 

ji  *  i 

Ct 

1       fc^J 

k         J 

™^%m                       n— «■ 

I|%  _ 

"    ' 

£§^fl    Wtm 

j^fc     %T\. "  *  '   tK% 

' 

■j*5»  4 

~~w" 

"""            ^^                      / 

^^JT*  jj/m 

;Pj 

J      '     s 

. 

What  will  the  telephone  of  the  future  be  like?  Key  members  of  CPPD  discuss  some  possible  models. 
Will  they  work?  Are  they  marketable?  Will  they  stand  up? 


Bell  System's  new  Customer  Products  Planning  Division 
has  the  fascinating  job  of  generating,  screening  and  testing 
new  ideas  for  ever-better  telephone  equipment  and  service. 


Here  in  this  quiet  room  is  shaped 
an  important  part  of  the  future  of 
the  telephone. 

For  here  are  gathered  together 
from  many  sources  the  hundreds 
of  new  engineering  and  styling  ideas 
. .  .  even  the  "screwball  notions"  .  .  . 
from  which  the  telephone  of  to- 
morrow will  be  developed. 

Which  are  good?  Which  are  bad? 
It  is  the  responsibility  of  the  Cus- 


tomer Products  Planning  Division  to 
find  out.  And  to  select  for  develop- 
ment and  production  those  items 
that  people  really  want. 

No  idea  seems  too  farfetched  for 
careful  consideration  by  this  hard- 
headed  but  hopeful  group. 

They  go  on  the  premise  that  even 
a  poor  idea  may  spark  a  good  one, 
and  that  you  never  know  how  good 
an  idea  is  until  you  try  it. 


So,  when  an  idea  looks  promising, 
working  models  are  developed  and 
designed  by  the  Bell  Telephone  Lab- 
oratories, built  by  Western  Electric 
Company,  and  tried  out  in  homes  or 
offices.  Thus  no  bets  are  missed,  and 
no  costly  mistakes  are  made. 

This  is  just  one  reason  for  the  suc- 
cess of  Bell  System's  continuing  pro- 
gram of  research  for  ever-better 
telephone  service. 


Working  together  to  bring  people  together 

Bell  Telephone  System 


HARPER      &      I!  R  O  T  II  K  R  S 
PUBLISHERS 

Chairman  of  the  Executive 
Committee:   CASSCANl  n  i  D 

Chaii  man  of  the  Board: 

FRANK  S.  MACGREGOR 

President  and  Treasurer: 

RAYMOND  C.  HARWOOD 

l'i'  'its: 

EDW  \Kli   J.  TYLER,   JR., 

EUGEN1    1  \\l  \N.  ORDW  Vi    I  I    \l>. 

DANIEL  1\  BRADI  1  x 

Assistant  to  the  Publishei 
and  Circulation  Director: 

JOHN  JAY  HUGHES 


EDITORIAL     s I \ 1    I 

Editor  in  Chief:    john  fischer 

Managing  Editor:  russell  lynes 
Editors: 

KA1H1  KIM     (.At  ss     JACKSON 

ERIC  LARRABEE 

CATHARINE  MEYER 

ANNE  G.  FREEDGOOD 

Editorial  Secretary:    rose  daly 
Editorial  Assistant: 

LUCY  DONALDSON 


ADVERTISING    DATA:    consult 

II  mwi  n-.Vii  imii    S  m.ks.   In.  . 

49  East  33rd  Street,  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 

Telephone  MUrray  Hill  3-5225. 

HARPER'S    MAGAZINE    issue    fur 

Feb.   1958.    Vol.  216.    Serial  No.  1293. 
Copyright^   1958  by  Harper  &  Brothers 

in  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain. 
All  rights,  including  translation  into 
other  languages,  reserved  by  tin- 
Publisher   in   the   United   States.  Great 
Britain.   Mexico  and  all  countries 
participating    in    the    International 
<  opvright   Convention  and   the 
Pan-American   Copyright  Convention. 
Published  monthly  by  Harper  & 
Brothers,  49  East  33d  St.,  New  York  16. 
N.V.  Composed  and  printed  in  the  i  .S.A 
bj    union  labor  at  the  Williams  Press, 
99-129  North  Broadway,  Albany.  N.  Y. 
Entered  as  second-class  matter  at 
the  post   „(fice  at   Albany.  N.   Y., 
under   the   Act  of   March  3,   1879. 
subscription   rates:   600   per  copy; 
$6.00  one  year;   $11.00  two  veai-: 
$15.00   three    years.    Foreign    postage — 
except    Canada    and   Pan    America — 
$1.50   per   year  additional. 

CHANCE    OF    ADDRESS:    Six    week-' 

advance   notice,    and    old    address  as 

well    as   new.    are   necessary. 

Address  all  correspondence  relating 

to  subscriptions  to:  Subscription  Dept., 

49  East  33d  St.,  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 


HariDerl 


MAGA 


Z  I  N  E  ® 


FEBRUARY      1958 


vol.  216,  no.    1293 


ARTICLES 

25     \Vii\i   Is    Advertising  Good  For?  Martin  Mayer 
Drawings  by  Roy  Mi  Kie 

32     Our  Di  \ir.  Coi  i  i  vgi  is.  Arthur  C.  Clarke 
Drawings  by  Roy  McKie 

34     A  Chanci    ro  Withdraw  Oik   Troops  in  Europe, 
George  F.  Kennarj 

42     \\ii\i    I  w 1 1  Lawyers    \ki    Doing  to  Hollywood, 
Mm  i  ,i\     I  eigh  Bloom 
Cartoon  by  Chon  Day 

1!)     How    ro  Choosi    \  College,  Ii     \\\.   fohn  W.  Gardner 

60     Antibiotics:   Too  Much  of  a  Good  Thing? 

Vernon  Knight,  M.  I). 

()1      I  in    HilLbillies  [nvadi   Chk  \(.o,  Albert  \.  Votaw 
Drawings  by  Charles  II.  Walkei 

72     The  Voyage  of  mi   Lucky  Dragon,  Part-  III, 
Ralph  E.  Lapp 
Drawings  by  Ben  Shahn 

FICTION 

55     An  Old  Boy  Who  Made  Violins,  Ben  Maddow 
Drawings  by  Janina  Domanska 

VERSE 

54     And  1  Say  the  Hell  with  It,  Philene  Hammer 

68     Florence:  At  the  Villa  Jernyngham,  Osbert  Sitwell 
Drawings  by  Robert  Benton 

departments 

4     Letters 

10     The  Editor's  Easy  Chair— Who's  in  Charge  Here? 
fohn  Fischer 

20     Personal  &  Otherwise:  Among  Our  Contributors 

80     After  Hours,  Mr.  Harper 

83     The  New  Books,  Paul  Pickrel 

89     Books  in  Brief,  [Catherine  Gauss  Jackson 

92     The  New  Recordings,  Edward  Tatnall  Canby 

COVER  by  Roy  McKie 


The  books  you  want  to  read  are —  usually — 
BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  club  selections  or  alternates 


FOR  EXAMPLE:  HERE  ARE   10  OF   130  BOOKS  AVAILABLE  TO  MEMBERS  THIS  MONTH 


^is* 


BY  LOVE  POSSESSED 

by  James  Gould  Cozzens 

"The  maturest  and  most  read- 
able piece  of  American  fiction 
we  have  been  privileged  to 
offer  our  members  for  many 
years"— Clifton  Fadiman. 
Specia!  price  to  members :  $3.95 


A  HISTORY  OF  THE 

ENGLISH-SPEAKING 

PEOPLES 

by  Winston  S.  Churchill 

Vol.  I:  The  Birth  of  Britain 

Events  and  personalities  from 
the  earliest  times  to  those  of 
Richard  III. 

Vol.  II:  The  New  World 

The  whole  Tudor  and  Stuart 
periods;  Henry  VIII,  Oliver 
Cromwell  and  Charles  II. 

Vol.  Ill:  The  Age  of  Revolution 

From  1688  through  the  Ameri- 
can  and   French   Revolutions, 
and  the  War  of  1812. 
Special  price  of  each 

volume:  $i.50 


THE  NEW  CLASS 

by  Milovan  Djilas 

Probably  the  most  devastating 
anti  -  Communist  document 
ever  written.  "A  book  of  vast 
significances,  one  that  could 
shake  the  Communist  world" 
-7i.  J.  Herald  Tribune 

Price:  $3.95 


LETTER   FROM    PEKING 

by  Pearl  S.   Buck 

The  latest  novel  by  this  dis- 
tinguished Nobel  Prize  win- 
ner, warmly  received  every- 
where. Price.-  $3.75 


THE  FBI  STORY 

by  Don  Whitehead 
"A    completely    thrilling    ac- 
count of  how  the  FBI   oper- 
ates, in  war  and  peace,"  long 
a  best-seller.  Price-.  $4.95 


THE  NUN'S  STORY 

by  Kathryn  Hulme 

Based    on    actual    fact,    this 
widely   praised   book  tells   of 
a  Belgian  nun's  life  in  a  fa- 
mous nursing  order. 
Special  price  to  members :  $3.75 


GUARD  OF  HONOR 

THE  JUST  AND  THE 
UNJUST 

by  James  Gould  Cozzens 

A  Double  Alternate  recently 
offered  because  of  the  excep- 
tional interest  in  James  Gould 
Cozzens  as  a  novelist.  Quard 
oj  "Honor  won  the  Pulitzer 
Prize  in  1949.  7be  Just  and 
(be  "Unjust  was  called  "the 
best  U.  S.  novel  ever  fash- 
ioned around  the  law." 

Special  combined  price 
of  both  volumes:  $4.95 


BEGIN  WITH  ANY  ONE  OF  THE  ABOVE  BOOKS 


AND  YOU  WILL  RECEIVE  FREE 


ONE  OF  THESE  SETS 
or  REFERENCE  WORKS 

if  you  agree  to  buy  five  additional  books 
from  the  Club  during  the  next  year  from 
over    100    that   will    be    made    available 

GOOD  SENSE:  A  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION.  There  are  at  least 
three  benefits  of  membership  in  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club  that  are 
beyond  question.  First,  you  get  the  books  you  want  to  read  instead 
of  missing  them  through  overbusyncss  or  procrastination — books  such 
as  those  described  above.  Second,  you  pay  an  average  of  20%  less 
for  them  than  otherwise.  Third,  you  share  in  more  than  $13,000,000 
worth  of  free  books  (retail  value)  now  distributed  annually  as  Book- 
Dividends.  This  offer  really  represents  "advanced"  Book-Dividends 
earned  by  the  purchase  of  the  books  you  engage  to  buy  later. 

>)(  The  books  you  agree  to  buy  later  can  be  chosen  from  at  least  100 
Club  Selections  and  Alternates  made  available  every  month. 

>f;  Each  month  you  receive  a  full  and  careful  report  about  the  next  Book- 
of-the-Month.  If  you  judge  it  is  a  book  you  would  not  enjoy,  you  may 
send  back  a  form  (always  provided)  specifying  some  other  book.  Or  you 
may  simply  say,  "Send  me  nothing." 

5JC  If  you  continue  after  this  trial,  you  will  receive  a  Book-Dividend, 
averaging  almost  $7  in  retail  value,   with  every  second  book  you  buy. 

>F  Immediate  acceptance  is  advisable  if  you  are  interested  in  any  par- 
ticular set  or  volume. 


RETAIL   PRICE   $25.00 

.  Herald  Tribune 


THE  NEW  ILLUSTRATED  EDITION  OF  THE  COLUMBIA  ENCYCLOPEDIA 

Compiled  at  Columbia  University    •    2302  pases  RETAIL  PRICE  $35.00 

THE  OXFORD  UNIVERSAL  DICTIONARY 

2515  pages    •    "The  best  English  dictionary  of  its  size" — N. 
CHURCHILL'S  THE   SECOND  WORLD  WAR      Retail  Price  (if  bought  separately)  $39.00 
All  six  volumes  of  Sir  Winston's  epic  history 

THE  OXFORD  REFERENCE  LIBRARY      Four  volumes      retail  prices  total  $27.25 

THE   WORLD   OF   MATHEMATICS  In  four  volumes,  boxed  RETAIL  PRICE   $20.00 

SANDBURG'S  ABRAHAM   LINCOLN— THE  WAR  YEARS  retail  price  $36.00 

The  Pulitzer  Prize  winning  biography  in  four  volumes 


BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB,  Inc.  A32 

345  Hudson  Street,  New  York  14,  N.  Y. 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  member  of  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club.*  I  am  to 
receive,  free,  the  reference  work  or  library  set  indicated  below,  with  the 
purchase  of  my  first  book,  also  Indicated.  I  agree  to  purchase  at  least  five 
additional  monthly  Selections — or  Alternates — during  the  first  year  I  am  a 
member.  If  I  continue,  after  my  sixth  purchase  I  am  to  receive  a  Book- 
Dividend*  with  every  second  Selection — or  Alternate — I  buv.  After  my  first 
year  as  a  member,  I  need  buy  only  four  such  books  in  any  twelve-month 
period.    (A   small    charge   is  added   to  cover  postage   and   mailing   expenses.) 


PLEASE    NOTE:     A 

bers   at   a   special    ci 
ing     Book-Dividend 


Double  Sele 
mbined  price 
:redit,     and 


n — or  a  set  of  books  offered  to  mem- 
;  counted  as  a  single  book  In  reckon- 
fulfilling     the    membership     obligation. 


(Choose  one  of  the  sets  or 

reference  works  listed  above) 

MY   FIRST 

PURCHASE 

(Choose   one    of  the 

sil'-it  Ions    described    above) 

Mr.     ) 

Miss   ) 

(Please  Print  rial 

ily> 

Zone State 

Books    for    Canadian    members    arc    priced    sliphtly    hlffher,    are    shipped    from 
Toronto  duty  free,    and  may  be  paid  for  In  either  U.S.  or  Canadian  currency. 


'Trademark  Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Off.  and  in  Canada 


LETTERS 


Poner  on  the  Border 

To  the  Editors: 

I  found  the  article  by  Senator  Neu 
berger,  "Powei  Struggle  <>n  the  Cana- 
dian  Border"  [December],  ver)  interest- 
ing. ...  I  he  problem,  as  he  points  out, 
is  crying  for  solution,  ami  unless  we  find 
ways  "I  resolving  differences  and  har- 
nessing those  available  kilowatts  ol  elec- 
trical  energy,  critical  power  shortages 
will    mount. 

Warren  G.  Magnuson,  Chairman 

Committee  on  interstate  and 

Foreign  Commerce 

U.  S.  Senate.  Washington 

Senator  Neuberger  brings  lo  light  sig- 
nificant and  timely  news  on  the  hydro 
power  situation  in  the  Northwest. 

It  is  unfortunate  that  the  region 
should  be  so  heavily  dependent  on  this 
power  source,  as  it  represents  less  than 
5  per  cent  of  the  nation's  energy.  With 
the  nation  now  engaged  on  new  lines  of 
public  works,  i.e.  highways,  and  ab- 
sorbed with  day-to-day  news  of  atomic 
developments,  it  seems  unlikely  that  for 
the  near  term  the  Congress  will  see  fit  to 
appropriate  the  tremendous  sums  of 
money  necessary  for  the  continued  ex- 
pansion  of   hydro  projects. 

Right  or  wrong,  the  bitter  public  vs. 
private  power  battle  has  divided  the 
area  politically,  with  unfortunate  re- 
sults. Donald  Wylie 
Highland  Park,  111. 

Vermont,  Pro  and  Con 

To  the  Editors: 

I  am  not  a  native  of  Vermont,  but  I 
have  spent  much  time  there  and  1  have, 
like  thousands  of  others,  a  high  regard 
for  that  state,  its  people,  and  their 
manner  of  life,  f  think  most  of  those 
at  all  acquainted  with  Vermont  will 
feel  as  I  do  about  [Mrs.  Chapin's]  cur- 
rent article  ["Vermont:  Where  Are  All 
Those  Yankees?"  December]:  that  it  is 
beneath  contempt  and  entirely  unworthy 
of  publication. 

Marc  T.  Gri  i  nj 
Thomaston,  Me. 

That  I  was  happih  able  to  purchase 
a    copy   of    the   December    Harper's   in 


Montpelier,  Vermont,  and  so  read  Mis. 
Chapin's   notes   on   Vermont   character, 

was    no    doubt    due    to    those    \  ci  %     tnflu- 

-   sin    so   loudl)    deplores. 

I  1 1/  \iu  in  Ken  i  (■  \\ 
Calais,  Vt. 

I  he  ai  ti<  le  by  Miriam  Chapin  is  a 
wonderful  picture  of  what  a  non-Ver- 
monter  expects  as  seen  through  th<  eyes 
ol  ,i  Vermonter.  However,  it  doesn't 
quite  tell  the  story.  The  pervading  Ver- 
mont isms  ol  the  natives,  ol  whom  1  am 
proud  to  be  one,  are  a  little  too  subtle 
to  make  a  good  article.  They  are  to  be 
found,  lot  instance,  in  the  attitude 
toward  Calvin  Coolidge  which,  among 
his  neighbors]  was  based  on  their  esti- 
mate of  him— man  and  boy— instead  of 
on  his  being  President.  They  are  to  be 
found  in  the  case  ol  a  very  acceptable 
preacher  from  the  Midwest  we  had  in 
our  town  once  who  made  the  alarming 
discovery  that  the  fad  ol  his  being  a 
clergyman  gave  him  no  automatic  dis- 
tin<  lion.    He  had  to  earn  it. 

I  might  say  just  a  word  or  two  about 
some  of  the  useful  characteristics  (un- 
people possess.  They  are  adaptable 
mechanically,  and  this  accounts  not 
merely  for  industrial  success  from  the 
days  of  Thaddeus  Fairbanks  and  the 
platform  scale  to  the  machine-tool  indus- 
try ol  Springfield  and  Windsor.  It  also 
accounts  for  the  successful  establishment 
in  Vermont  of  branch  plants  of  many 
national   organizations.    .    .    . 

The  second  characteristic,  and  this 
shows  character,  is  that  labor  relations 
are  based  on  the  assumption  that  man- 
agement and  labor  will  live  and  work  to- 
gether. Strikes  are  not  unknown.  Pro- 
tracted strikes  leading  to  lasting  bitter- 
ness   are    non-existent. 

As  to  telephone  numbers,  that  inci- 
dent shows  universal  characteristics  and 
might  have  occurred  in  France  or  Aus- 
tralia. However,  after  all,  there  is 
something  Vermontish  in  the  humor  and 
ingenuity.  Ralph  E.  Flanders 

U.S.  Senate,  Vermont 

Divide  and  Rue  It 

To  the  Editors: 

Charlton  Ogburn,  |r.  presents  a 
strong  case  lor  eliminating  military 
rivalry  in  the  Middle  East  between  Rus- 
sia and  the  West  ["Divide  and  Rue  It 
in  the  Middle  East,"  December].  Never- 
theless I  fail  to  find  it  entirely  convinc- 
ing. The  Russian  offer  of  "peaceful 
co-existence"    .    .    .    carries   strong   over- 


tones of  propaganda  to  me.  .  .  .  Soviet 
Russia  has  no  desire  to  have  the 
Middle  last  quiet  down  even  thougjg 
it  seeks  lo  prevent  a  major  conflict 
from  breaking  out  there.  It  l.uher 
aims  ai  stimulating  Arab  hatred  of 
[srael  in  ordei  to  be  a  beneficiary  of  I 
this  absorbing  passion  ol  the  Arabs. 
.  1  he  Soviet  realizes  lull  well  that  its 
phon\  offei  will  nevei  be  accepted  by 
the  United  States  and  Great  Britain 
loi   the  following  reasons: 

(1)  American  aims  must  continue  to 
be  supplied  lo  Turkey  not  only  because 
ol  ils  ke\  position  .  .  .  but  because  it 
protects   ,\  \  1  ( )  s  Hank. 

(2)  The  adjoining  "northern  tier" 
countries,  Iraq  and  Iran,  must  continue 
to  receive  American  military  support 
or  succumb  lo  the  blackmail  threats 
ol    their    Soviet    neighbor. 

(3)  Jordan  would  collapse  without 
American  military  and  economic  aid. 
This  might  well  result  in  an  almost 
simultaneous  attempt  to  carve  up  the 
kingdom  by  Syria,  Iraq,  and  Israel 
with  that  part  of  the  Middle  East  be- 
coming a  center  ol  military  turmoil 
and  witli  an  accompanying  disruption 
ol  vital  oil  supplies  to  Western 
Europe.   .  .  . 

(4)  British  military  support  for  the 
Persian  Gulf  sheikdoms  must  be  main- 
tained because  ol  the  highly  strategic 
value    of   their   fabulous   oil   reserves. 

(5)  It  is  politically  unthinkable  for 
either  American  political  party  to  ac- 
cept a  policy  of  refusing  military  aid 
to  Israel  in  case  of  need. 

Let's  give  the  Soviet  credit  for  mak- 
ing what  some  may  consider  a  clever 
cold-war  propaganda  move.  However, 
it  is  of  no  help  in  solving  the  prob- 
lems. Ernest  T.  Clough 
Milwaukee,    Wise. 

Rites  of  Autumn 

To  the  Editors: 

Since  you  invite  addenda  and  alter- 
native suggestions  to  Mr.  Ferril's  ex- 
cellent (but  misguided)  try  at  inter- 
pretation of  the  Rites  of  Autumn  [The 
Editor's  Easy  Chair,  December],  I  hasten 
to    submit    the    following: 

I  am  sorry  to  say  that  my  comment 
will  destroy  the  whole  edifice  built, 
obviously  at  the  cost  of  tremendous 
research,  by  Mr.  Ferril.  He  laid,  how- 
ever, the  egg  ol  his  own  downfall  in 
this  sentence:  "The  actual  rites,  per- 
formed by  twenty-two  young  priests  of 
perfect  physique.  .  .  ."  This  is  ex- 
tremely inaccurate.  My  own  research 
lias  shown  me  that  the  words  "perfect 
physique"  are  the  base  reason  for  the 
rites— in  reverse.  The  young  American 
male  from  birth  is  led  to  believe  that 
only  those  of  perfect  phvsique  can 
become   the   Blessed.   ...   By   the   time 


%  .-*.«•" 


Exclusive 


1* 


iv" 


X: 


X: 


with  the 


Marboro  Book  Club 


V.\SSfc*E* 


You  can  have  any  «J  of     $^75 
the  books  shown  for  only  %J mmb 


•* 


An  International 
Sensation  . . . 


By  exclusive  arrangement  with  Ivar  Lissner's  publishers  in  Europe  and 
America,  THE  LIVING  PAST  has  been  designated  as  a  selection  of  the 
MABBOBO  BOOK  CLUB.  "An  utterly  enthralling  book,  a  bestseller 
throughout  Europe,  and  fully  comparable  in  every  way  to  Gods,  Graves  &. 
Scholars.  Astonishingly  researched,  vividly  written.  I  urge  this  book  on 
every  reader  who  wants  to   flex  his  mind  and  exercise  his  imagination" 

-Saturday  Review 


VJhoose  from  THE  LIVING  PAST-BEING  AND  NOTHINGNESS 
-SELECTED  WRITINGS  OF  JIMENEZ  (Nobel  Prize  winner)- 
OF  LOVE  AND  LUST— and  eight  other  important  books  as  your  intro- 
duction to  membership  in  the  MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB. 

THE  LIVING  past  is  much  more  than  an  unprecedented  international  best- 
seller. Hailed  by  archaeologists,  anthropologists,  literary  and  art  critics 
alike,  it  is'a  totally  new  kind  of  illustrated  book  about  the  magnificent  and 
terrifying  past  we  call  Ancient  History.  Brilliant,  idol-smashing,  ency- 
clopedic, it  brings  to  life  each  of  man's  earliest  attempts  at  civilization- 
some  of  them  brutal,  some  inspiring,  some  depraved— from  Thebes  to 
Tahiti,  from  Jerusalem  to  Japan,  from  Persia  to  Peru.  Nothing  you  have 
ever  read  before  can  have  prepared  you  for  its  excitement  and  its  sur- 
prises. Translated  into  12  languages,  it  is  now  published  in  America  at  $5.95. 
To  demonstrate  the  values  that  discerning  readers  can  expect  from  the 
marboro  book  club,  we  offer  you  any  3  books  on  this  page  (including 
the  living  past,  if  you  wish)  all  for  about  one-half  what  you  would 
ordinarily  expect  to  pay  for  the  living  past  alone. 

This  is  no  ordinary  offer.  Never  before  have  current  books  of  such 
stature  been  made  available  at  so  low  a  price.  But,  of  course,  this  is  no 
ordinary  book  club. 

the  marboro  book  club  was  established  expressly  for  those  of  you  who 
make  up  your  own  minds  about  books— men  and  women  who  know  good 
books,  want  good  books,  and  read  so  many  that  today's  high  cost  of  reading 
has  become  a  problem.  It  pools  your  buying  power  with  that  of  others  who 
share  your  tastes,  and  brings  you  savings  never  before  possible  on  the 
books  you  prefer. 

With  each  four  selections  (or  alternates)  accepted  at  Special  Member's 
Prices,  you  also  receive  a  superlative  bonus  volume  of  your  choice  at  no 
additional  charge.  You'll  soon  find  that  savings  average  more  than  50% 
on  the  self-same  books  you  would  have  purchased  at  regular  prices. 
How  many  of  the  books  listed  below  have  you  wanted  to  read  ?  Reach  for 
a  pencil  right  now  and  check  off  any  three  you  want.  They're  yours  for 
only  $3.75  with  an  introductory  membership  in  the  MARRORO  book  club. 
That's  a  saving  of  as  much  as  $20.00  on  regular  bookstore  prices. 
Mail  the  application  form  today,  while  this  exclusive  offer  lasts. 

Choose  any  3  of  these  books  for  $3.75  with  Introductory  Membership  in  the  MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB!  Mcsil  your  application  today. 


D  THE  LIVING  PAST.  By  Ivar  Lissner. 
Brings  triumphantly  to  life  the  great 
discoveries  of  archaeology,  anthro- 
pology, and  comparative  religion. 
508  pages,  including  64  pp.  of  fabu- 
lous photographs  —  sculpture,  idols, 
architecture,  costumes.  &  other  treas- 
ures of  antiquity.       List  Price  $5.95 

D  OF  LOVE  AND  LUST.  By  Theodor 
ltcik.  Freud's  most  famous  pupil 
analyzes  the  hidden  nature  of  mas- 
culinity and  femininity,  normal  and 
perverse,  in  romantic  love,  in  mar- 
riage, parenthood,  bachelorhood,  and 
spinsterhood.  List  Price  $7.50 

D  tAST  TALES.  By  Isak  Dinesen. 
Twelve  new  tales  of  compelling 
beauty  and  enchantment  by  the  author 
of  Seven  Gothic  Tales.  "A  touch 
that's  magic  .  .  .  Pure  delight."  — 
N.  Y.  Times  List  Price  $4.00 

Q  MASS  CULTURE.  Ed.  by  Bosenberg 
Ac  White.  Monumental,  'wickedly 're- 
vealing portrait  of  the  "Lonely 
Crowd",  at  play.  David  Biesman, 
Edmund  Wilson,  Dwight  MacDonald 
and  ether  distinguished  scholars  de- 
scend unon  t Tie  "popular"  arts  with 
diabolical  zest.  List  Price  $6.50 


D  SELECTED  WRITINGS  OF  JUAN 
RAMON  JIMENEZ.  First  representa- 
tive cross-section  of  prose  and  poems 
by  the  1956  Nobel  Prize  Winner,  in- 
cluding writings  never  before  pub- 
lished in  book  form.  List  Price  $4.75 

D  BATTLE  FOR  THE  MIND.  By  Dr. 
William  Sargent.  How  evangelists, 
psychiatrists,  and  brain-washers  can 
change  your  beliefs  and  behavior. 
"Every  page  is  full  of  lively  inter- 
est."—  Bertrand   Russell. 

List   Price    $4.50 

O  THE  CLOWNS  OF  COMMERCE.  By 
Walter  Goodman.  An  irreverent  in- 
vestigation of  Madison  Avenue's 
professional  "persuaders,"  and  how 
they  arc  deceived  by  their  own 
"campaigns."  Hilarious,  merciless, 
and  every  word  is  true. 

List   Price   $4.95 

□  RELIGION  AND  THE  REBEL.  By 
Colin  Wilson,  author  of  The  Out- 
sider. "The  idea  behind  it  is  one  of 
the  most  important  in  the  thought  of 
our  time,  the  most  effective  challenge 
to  materialistic  philosophy  yet  con- 
ceived,"—  N.  Y.  Times. 

list  Price  $4.00 


O  BEING  AND  NOTHINGNESS.  By 
Jean- Paul  Sartre.  Sartre's  Philoso- 
phy of  Being,  including  his  views  on 
social  relations,  his  doctrine  of  free- 
dom, and  existential  psychoanalysis. 
635  pages.  List  Price  $1  0 .00 

□  MAKERS  OF  THE  MODERN  WORLD. 
By  Louis  Untermeyer.  800-page  en- 
cyclopedia of  the  02  men  and  women 
who  created  the  thought  and  taste 
of  our  time — from  Proust  to  Einstein, 
Roosevelt  &  Stravinsky.  The  modern 
Plutarch's   Lives.      List   Price   $6.50 


□  NEW  OUTLINE  OF  MODERN 
KNOWLEDGE.  Kd.  by  Alan  Prycc- 
Jones,  A  liberal  education  in  one 
giant  620-page  volume  covering  the 
full  range  of  modern  knowledge  from 
atomic  physics  to  psychiatry. 

List   Price   $6.50 

O  KLEE.  By  Gualtierei  di  San  Lazzaro. 
Paul  Ivlee's  greatest  "one-man  show" 

— a  triumphant  summary  of  the  life 
and  work  of  this  Einstein  among 
painters,  with  360  reproductions  of 
his  most  famous  and  enigmatic  works, 
including  80  full  color  plates. 

List  Price  $5.75 


MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB 

222  Fourth  Avenue,  New  York  3,  N.  Y. 

You  may  enroll  me  as  a  new  member  of  the  Marboro 
Book  Club.  Please  send  me  the  THREE  books  checked 
at  the  left  at  only  $3.75  plus  shipping  for  all  three. 
Forthcoming  selections  and  alternates  will  be  described 
to  me  in  a  Monthly  Advance  Bulletin  and  I  may  decline 
any  book  simply  by  returning  the  printed  form  always 
provided.  I  agree  to  buy  as  few  as  four  additional 
books  (or  alternates)  at  the  reduced  Member's  Price 
during  the  next  twelve  months;  and  I  may  resign  at  any 
time  thereafter.  I  will  receive  a  free  BONUS  BOOK 
for  every  four  additional  books  I  accept. 


CITY_ 


-ZONE STATE- 


{Memberships  available  only  in  continental  U.  S.  and 
Canada.  Prices  slightly  higher  in  Canada.)  ( MH-2S0) 
GUARANTEE:  If  you  are  not  completely  satisfied  will 
this    SPECIAL    OFFER,    you    may    return    the    boo 
within  7  days  and  your  membership  will  be  cancellc. 


. .  .with  Railway  Thrift  Coupons 


Haven't  you  heard?  Dollars  spent  here  buy  British  Rail- 
ways tickets  at  a  discount!  Buy  Thrift  Coupons  .  .  .  1,000 
miles  of  go-as-you-please  rail  travel  for  $21  (2nd  class) 
.  .  .  $31.50  (first  class).  Valid  for  six  months.  Also  good 
for  Irish  cross-channel  and  MacBrayne's  steamers.  Addi- 
tional mileage  at  commensurate  savings.  Buy  Thrift  Cou- 
pons from  your  travel  agent  before  you  leave.  Not 
sold  overseas. 


BRITISH    RAILWAYS    t 


OFFICES  IN  NEW  YORK  •  CHICAGO  •  LOS  ANGELES  •  TORONTO   — 
Want  "planning  literature"?  Write  British  Railways,  9  Rocketeller  Plaza,  New  York  20,  N.  Y.,  Dept.  F8-2 


\ 


an 


LOTt  to  try 


Eaton's  Calais  Ripple 

Join  the  discriminating  people  who  use  Calais  Ripple  writing 

paper.  You'll  like  its  distinctive  texture,  luxurious 

deckled  edges  and  lined  envelopes.  Calais  Ripple  is  one  of 

Eaton's  Open  Stock  Letter  Paper  classics 

that  are  always  available,  always  match. 

Paper  and  envelopes  sold  separately.         (  t^**\ 

7> jt/ti/tj  Send  your  name,  address  and  2bi  in  coin 
C/\>.O.l/.f/-  for  a  generous  sample  (10  sheets,  5  lined 
envelopes),  and  get  free,  an  attractive,  handy  Stamp 
Holder  for  your  purse  or  pocket.  Address:  Dept.  J-2. 
Offer  limited  within  the  U.  S.  Expires  Dec.  31.  1958 


Order  promptly  and  receiv< 
FREE  STAMP  HOLDER 


EATON  PAPER  CORPORATION     %«*»> 


PITTSFIELD,  MASSACHUSETTS 


LETTERS 

the  seekei  after  Blessedness  has  entered 
his  urns,  he  is  desperatel)  realizing  that 
lii-.  quest  has  bogged  down  in  the 
disastei  ol  knobb)  knees,  hollow  chest, 
li. ii  feet,  spindl)  neck.  \t  this  time 
ol  desperation  he  meets  the  Glorious 
but  False  Prophet  a  man  who  walks 
like  .i  god,  carrying  on  his  arm  strange 
apparel,  who  says  temptingly .  "  Try  it 
on."  I  In-  seekei  does  so  and  finds  that 
Ins  nil  Blessed  stale  is  hidden  l>\  pads, 
guards,  varied  protection  ol  every  de- 
scription for  ever)  pan  of  his  bated 
body, 

1  need  not  belabor  the  point.  From 
then  on  the  priesthood  must  perpetuate 
the      cover-up.       Ergo— the      Rites      ol 

AlltlUlUl.  KATHLEEN   SPROUL 

Washington,  D.  C. 
Sinister  Halo 

To  the   Editors: 

I  sincerely  hope  that  James  Robbins 
Miller's  excellent  article  ["Glaucoma: 
the  Sinister  Halo,"  December]  will  help 
to  save  man)  from  the  dangei  of 
blindness. 

Whoever  heard  once  the  frightening 
sound  ol  an  ophthalmologist's  diagnosis, 
"complete  atrophy,"  as  1  did  in  the 
case  ol  my  mother,  will  wonder,  as  I 
have  evei  since,  what  could  be  done 
to  save  as  many  as  possible  from  this 
treacherous  disease  which  so  often  strikes 
with  almost  no  warning. 

Making  the  pressure  test  part  of 
ever)  routine  medical  examination  of 
people  over  forty  would,  in  all  prob- 
ability, spare  many  from  such  suffering. 
Lottie  Joseph 
San  Francisco,  Calif. 

The  Dulleseum 

To  the  Editors: 

In  the  State  Department  circles  of 
Berlin,  the  American  Kongress  Halle 
ma)  be  called  the  "Dulleseum"  [The 
Editor's  Easy  Chair,  December],  but 
among  the  man-in-the-street  type  of 
Berliner  (who  is  so  renowned  for  his 
quick  answers  that  the  word  "Berliner- 
Schnauze"  means  man-of-quick-retort) 
this  building  is  called  "the  pregnant 
oyster,"  which  is  indeed  quite  apt. 

Otto   B.    Kiehl 

Captain,    PAA 

Berlin,  Germany 

Civil  Defense 

To  the   Editors: 

The  membership  of  the  Southern 
California  Civil  Defense  &  Disaster  As- 
sociation is  comprised  of  the  officials  of 
eight  counties,  more  than  eighty  cities, 


BOTH 


WALTER  J.  BLACK,  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  CLASSICS  CLUB,  INVITES  YOU  TO  ACCEPT  FREE 


THS  ILIAD  OF  HOM*P» 

AND 

TH*  ODYSSEY  OF  HOMtR 


Two    Beautifully    Bound    Volumes.    In    the    Famous 
Translation   for   Modern   Readers   by  Samuel  Butler 

f\F  all  the  magic  of  "the  glory  that  was  Greece" 
^-^  these  two  books  cast  over  you  the  most  irre- 
sistible spell!  Alexander  the  Great  treasured  The 
Iliad  so  deeply  that  he  carried  it  into  battle  with 
him  in  a  jeweled  casket.  And  The  Odyssey  is  so 
teeming  with  unforgettable  action  and  adventure 
that  the  very  names  of  its  fascinating  characters 
are  ingrained  in  our  culture  today! 

Here,  in  these  books,  is  the  Greece  of  the  gods 
—  the  whole  gorgeous  panorama  of  mighty 
deeds,  of  alluring  women  and  warrior  heroes,  of 
tales  that  have  thrilled  millions  of  readers. 

No  wonder  these  two  immortal  books  of 
Homer,  "the  blind  bard,"  have  thundered  down 
through  thirty  centuries,  as  fresh  as  though  they 
had  been  written  only  yesterday!  And  now  —  as 
a  gift  from  the  Classics  Club,  for  your  library  of 
volumes  you  will  cherish  forever  —  you  may  have 
them  both  FREE! 


Why  The  Classics  Club  Offers  These  Two  Books  Free 


W  ILL  you  add  these  two  lovely  volumes  to 
"  your  library— as  a  membership  gift  from 
The  Classics  Club?  You  are  invited  to  join  today 
.  .  .  and  to  receive  on  approval  beautiful  editions 
of  the  world's  greatest  masterpieces. 

These  books,  selected  unanimously  by  distin- 
guished literary  authorities,  were  chosen  because 
they  offer  the  greatest  enjoyment  and  value  to 
the  "pressed  for  time"  men  and  women  of  today. 

Why    Are    Great   BooJcs   Called    "Classics"? 

A  true  "classic"  is  a  living  book  that  will  never 
grow  old.  For  sheer  fascination  it  can  rival  the 
most  thrilling  modern  novel.  Have  you  ever 
wondered  how  the  truly  great  books  have  become 
"classics"?  First  because  they  are  so  readable. 
They  would  not  have  lived  unless  they  were  read; 
they  would  not  have  been  read  unless  they  were 
interesting.  To  be  interesting  they  had  to  be 
easy  to  understand.  And  those  are  the  very  quali- 
ties which  characterize  these  selections;  read- 
ability, interest,  simplicity. 

Only   Boofc    Club   of   Its  Kind 

The  Classics  Club  is  different  from  all  other 
book  clubs.    1.   It  distributes  to  its   members  the 


world's  classics  at  a  low  price.  2.  Its  members 
are  not  obligated  to  take  any  specific  number  of 
books.  3.  Its  volumes  are  luxurious  De  Luxe 
Editions — bound  in  the  fine  buckram  ordinarily 
used  for  S5  and  S10  bindings.  They  have  tinted 
page  tops,  are  richly  stamped  in  genuine  gold, 
which  will  retain  its  original  lustre — books  you 
and  your  children  will  read  and  cherish  for 
many  years. 

A   Trial   Membership    Invitation   to    You 

You  are  invited  to  accept  a  Trial  Membership. 
With  your  first  book  will  be  sent  an  advance  no- 
tice about  future  selections.  You  may  reject  any 
book  you  do  not  wish.  You  need  not  take  any 
specific  number  of  books — only  the  ones  you 
want.  No  money  in  advance,  no  membership 
fees.  You  may  cancel  membership  any  time. 


We  suggest  that  you  mail  this  Invitation  Form 
to  us  at  once.  Paper,  printing,  binding  costs  are 
rising,  and  this  low  price— as  well  as  your  two 
beautifully  bound  free  copies  of  THE  ILIAD  and 
THE  ODYSSEY  of  HOMER— cannot  be  assured 
unless  you  respond  promptly.  THE  CLASSICS 
CLUB,  Roslyn,  L.  I.,  New  York. 


CY 


Walter  J.  Black,  President 

THE  CLASSICS  CLUB 

Roslyn,  L.  I.,  New  York 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  Trial  Member  and  send 
me,  FREE,  the  beautiful  two  volume  DeLuxe 
Classics  Club  Edition  of  THE  IL'AD  and  THE 
ODYSSEY  of  HOMER,  together  with  the  cur- 
rent selection. 

I  am  not  obligated  to  take  any  specific  number 
of  books  and  1  am  to  receive  an  advance  descrip- 
tion of  future  selections.  Also  1  may  reject  any 
volume  before  or  after  I  receive  it,  and  I  may 
cancel  my  membership  whenever  I  wjsh. 

For  each  volume  I  decide  to  keep  I  will  send  you 
$2.89,  plus  a  few  cents  mailing  charges.  (Booty 
thipped  in  U.  S.  A.  only.) 


Mr. 
Mrs. 

Miss 


Please  print  plainly 


Address 

Zone  No. 
City (ifany).  . .  .State. 


are  you  a 


UNITARIAN 


without 
knowing  it? 


Do  you  believe  that  religious  truth 
cannot  be  contrary  to  truth  from 
any  other  source? 

Do  you  believe  man  is  copable  of 
self-improvement  and  is  not  con- 
demned by  the  doctrine  of  "origi- 
nal  sin"? 

Do  you  believe  that  striving  to  live 
a  wholesome  life  is  more  important 
than  accepting  religious  creeds? 
Do  you  believe  in  the  practical  op- 
plication  of  brotherhood  in  all  so- 
cial relations? 

Then  you  are 

professing 

Unitarian   beliefs. 


LETTERS 


r 


MAIL  THIS  COUPON  WITH  IOC  TO 
UNITARIAN  LAYMEN'S  LEAGUE 
Dept.  H4A,  25  Beaton  St.,  Boston  8,  Mass. 
Please  send  me  booklets  on  Unitarionism 
Name. 


Address- 


Visit 


A 
P 

Hi 


.FOR  A  NEW  VIEWPOINT 

Seeking  something  new  and 
exciting  in  travel?  Then  visit 
Japan!  You'll  enjoy  the  beauty 
of  the  country  . . .  fine  modern, 
comfortable  hotels;  excellent 
transportation;  wonderful 
food;  and  thrilling  bargains. 
Give  yourself  a  new  viewpoint 
.  .  .  see  your  Travel  Agent  and 
plan  a  memorable  vacation 
in  the  intriguing  Orient! 


JMM  TOU MIT jJlMIHWH 


lO  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  York  20 
651   Market  Street,  San  Francisco  S 
<*8  Front  St.  W.,  Toronto 
109  Kaiulani  Ave.,  Honolulu  15 


and  many  associates  in  aircraft  industry, 
communications,  and  public  utilities 
h,  hi 

Oui  jut  imIu  tion  i  embi  a<  i  ovei  50  000 
square  miles  <>|  critit  al  target  ana.  and 
wi  an  responsible  l"i  practical  plan- 
ning and  procedures  w  1 1 i<  h  will  protect 
well  ovei   seven  million  people. 

We  have  made  stead)  progress  in  fac- 
ing and  correcting  past  Civil  Defense 
errors  or  misconceptions.  We  have  estab- 
lished uniform  procedures  and  strength- 
ened out  ini  in  area  through  improved 
co-ordination  <>l  existing  personnel  and 
equipment  resources.  In  short,  Civil  De- 
fcnse  in  Southern  California  does  not 
reflect  the  conditions  cited  in  the  No- 
vembei  issue  <>l  youi  magazine  ["  I  he 
Civil  Defense  Fiasco"]. 

I  he  article  plus  the  art  work  seem  i<> 
us  an  exaggerated,  undue,  one-sided 
combination  which  misrepresents  the 
basii  i  on<  <  pt,  improved  status,  and  fu- 
ture progress  ol   Civil   Defense.  .  .  . 

Hi  \  i  \\n\  \l    Wat  m>\.  Pres. 

Southern  California  Civil 

Defense  &  Disastei    ^sso. 

Burbank,   Calif. 

.  .  .  I  am   the  "research   engineei 

the      National       \eaikm\      ol      Si  nines" 

mentioned  by  Robert  Moms  in  "The 
Civil  Defense  Fiasco,"  and  as  mhIi  must 
admit  responsibility  foi  the  article  in 
/  it-  and  for  the  presentation  before  the 
Rockefellei  Brothers  Fund  Conference. 
.  .  .  It  is  ii  ur  that  I  am  a\]  employ ee  i >l 
the  National  Academy  ol  Sciences;  how- 
ever, both  contributions  were  made  as 
individual  efforts  ->\)d  were  clearly  iden- 
tified as  such.  I  In  National  Academy  ol 
Sciences  did  not  make  any  proposals, 
startling  oi  otherwise;  it  did  not  esti- 
mate the  cost  ol  an)  program;  it  docs 
not  review  oi  comment  on  the  private 
papei s  ol   iis  employees.  .  .  . 

At  the  request  oi  the  Rockefeller 
Brothers  Fund  I  prepared  an  original 
papei  which  contained  substantially  the 
same  material  as  that  published  in  Life. 
\i  \ i ( i ( •  1 1  House  before  a  small  but  very 
distinguished  group  oi  nationally  known 
men.  I  presented  it  and  debated  these 
[joints  with  Mr.  Moses.  He  used  many 
of  the  same  phrases  that  were  later 
printed  in  youi  article,  and  the  con- 
sensus of  opinion  ol  the  group  was  that 
he  was   beaten  on  every  point.  .  .  . 

In  the  discussion  ol  zoning  with  inten- 
tion to  clear  slums,  establish  fire-breaks, 
etc.— a  subject  in  which  Mr.  .Moses  is  an 
acknowledged  authority— there  is  the 
very  revealing  implication  that  these 
might  be  very  helpful  but  "we  don't 
think  there  is  a  chance  of  getting  any- 
thing substantial  done."  ...  It  is  a  fairly 
sale  bet  that  the  leading  city-planner 
of  Tokyo  used  similar  words  in  1940. . . . 

As  lor  the  shelter  suggestions,  I  have 
advocated  that  shelters  be  located  adja- 


cent to  homes,  or  as  part  of  them,  be- 
cause that  is  where  people  are  most  ol 
the  time.  .  .  .  One  spei  ini  fot  m  ol  home- 
sheltei    proposed    can    be    inexpensively 

mass-produced  I isiderablj  less  than 

"I'll  pel  cent  ol  the  cost"  ol  ,i  house.  In 
most    places   .\\\    excellent    laiinh    shelter 

(.in  be  developed  foi   nuclei  $200  a  per- 

so.n.      .      .      . 

It  will  not  take  long  to  decide  the 
issue.  Fortunately,  the  error  ol  not  hav- 
ing a  sheltei  is  a  mist. ike  that  people 
make  only  on<  e.  \\  u  t  vrd  B  w  om 

Washington,  1).  C. 


Anti  Billboard 

To  the  Editors: 

May  I  express  appreciation  ol  item 
six  in  the  Editor's  Eas)  Chair  Christmas 
list  in  the-  December  Harper's. 

I'm  just  back  from  a  visit  with  our 
daughtei  in  Hawaii  where  there  are  no 
billboards,  not  because  the\  are  lorbid- 
den  by  statute-,  but  because  they  are  not 
tolerated   by    public    opinion. 

Appreciative  mention  ol  Union  Oil 
Company's  abstaining  from  billboard 
advertising  should  help  materially  in 
creating  such  a  public  opinion  here. 

Karl  W.  Onthank 
Eugene,    Ore. 


Who  Can  Sing? 


lo   mi    Editors: 

Mis.  Ruedebush's  declaration  that 
"Youi  Child  Can  Sing"  [December] 
prompts  me  to  suggest  that  e\en  some 
ol  one's  adult  Iriencls  can  sing  in  some- 
thing other  than  a  monotone.  Her  con- 
clusion that  the  commonest  difficulty 
with  children  (and.  I  would  acid,  with 
adults)  is  inattentiveness  reminded  me 
ol  an  experience  I  once  had  in  a  rural 
graduate  summer  school  where  group 
singing  had  to  be  one  of  the  main  di- 
versions. 

A  fellow-student  .  .  .  contributed  the 
basest  note  to  what  otherwise  had  been 
a  concord  e)l  sweet  sounds.  I  discov- 
ered that  when  we  sang  pianissimo  he 
suddenly  and  cjuite  unconsciously  sang 
exactly  on  pitch.  But  when  we  sang 
louder  .  .  .  he  became  mote  pronounced 
in  his  monotone:  and  the  louder  we 
sang  to  drown  him  out  the  more  monot- 
onous he  got.  A  few  sessions  ol  sing- 
ing softly  with  him— warning  him  we 
both  must  stop  when  he  became  his  old 
unbearable  basso  self— may  no'  have 
cured  him.  but  they  at  least  made  him  a 
less  obnoxious  and  more  tuneful  singer. 
...  I  hope  that  he  is  still  singing  softly 
—and  accurately— as  we  both  learned  he 
could  do  by  the  simple  matter  of  paying 
attention.  I.   B.   Cauthen,  Jr.! 

Charlottesville,   Va. 


GIVEN  TO  YOU 


IF  YOU  AGREE  TO  BUY  FOUR  RECORDINGS  DURING  THE  NEXT  YEAR  IN 
A  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  TO  THE  METROPOLITAN  OPERA  RECORD  CLUB 


if  In  time  members  will  have  avail- 
able the  entire  repertory  of  Metro- 
politan Opera  performances  on  long- 
playing  records.  They  may  choose 
only  those  recordings  they  want. 

if  Members  are  notilied  in  advance 
of  each  forthcoming  opera,  and  have 
the  privilege  ol  rejection  if  ihcy  do 
not  want  it. 

if  The  operas  arc  carefully  abridged 
for  home  listening  fby  the  Metro- 
politan staff)  to  the  length  of  one  or 
two  12"  LP  records. 


if  The  records  arc  high-fidelity 
Vinylitc  B3H  R.P.M.  discs.  When 
the  opera  is  on  a  single  twelve-inch 
record  the  price  is  $4.50;  when  it  is 
an  album  of  two  twelve-inch  records, 
the  price  is  $6.75.  (A  small  extra 
charge  is  added  to  cover  the  cost  "I 
handling  and   shipping.) 

if.  The  sole  obligation  of  members 
of  The  Metropolitan  Opera  Kccord 
Club  is  to  buy  four  recordings  a 
year,  from  the  nine  to  twelve  that 
will  be  offered  each  year. 


jh-2 


the  metropolitan  opera  record  club 
a  branch  of  Book-op-the-Month  Club,  inc. 

345  Hudson  Slrcot,  Now  York  14,  N.  Y. 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  subscriber  to  The  Metropolitan 
Oi'kiia  Record  Club  and  send  mo,  without  charge,  the 
recording  of  Paolxacci.  I  agree  to  buy  four  additional 
Metropolitan  Opera  Record  Clud  recordings  during  the  first 
year  J.  am  a  member.  For  each  single-disc  recording  i  accept 
I  will  be  billed  $4,60;  for  each  double-disc  recording,  $0.75 
(plus  a  small  extra  charge  for  handilne.   and  shipping).  I 

may  eancel  the  subscripts I   any  time  after  buying  the 

fourth  recording,  n  i  wish  to,  i  may  return  the  Introductory 
reeordlriK  within  la  dayH,  and  the  subscription  will  at  oneo 
be  canceled  with  no  further  obligation  on  my  port. 


MR. 

MRS. 

MIHH 


(PLEASE  HUNT  JM.A/NI.Y) 


A'I'Im      i 


City.. 


..Zone  No State. 


MOC  16 


i >rd  prlco«  nro  the  unrno  in  C i id  n„-  Club  «Mi.»  to 

Ciininllim   nn'inljrrii,    wlllmnl    liny   extra   CharffO    for  "(illy.    tltrOligll 

Book-or-tlio-Morali  Club  (Canada),  Ltd, 


JOHN   FISCHER 


the  editor9;. 


EASY  CHAIR 


Who's  in  Charge  Here? 

MOST  Americans  would  agree  that  no 
living  man  has  served  this  country  hetter 
than  Dwight  I).  Eisenhower.  His  whole  career 
has  been  devoted  to  the  public  service  in  a 
range  of  duties— soldier,  military  diplomat,  edu- 
cator, political  leader— which  has  no  parallel  in 
our  history.  He  led  the  greatesl  military  coali- 
tion of  all  lime;  he  founded  the  NATO  shield 
which  now  protects  the  Western  world;  he  recon- 
ciled the  nation  to  the  costly  and  bitter  neces- 
sity of  American  leadership  through  a  time  of 
troubles  with  no  foreseeable  end.  For  these 
services  all  of  us  owe  him  a  "latitude  beyond 
measure. 

There  is  now  one  last  great  service  which 
President  Eisenhower  can  perform  for  his  coun- 
try.   He  can  resign. 

In  so  doing,  he  would  also  serve  his  party— 
and  the  Free  World— far  better  than  he  could  by 
remaining  in  the  White  House. 

I  here  also  is  one  great  service  which  his 
friends,  his  official  family,  and  the  American  peo- 
ple—who owe  him  so  much— can  now  perform 
for  the  President.  They  can  do  their  best  to 
persuade  him  that  his  resignation  would  be  an 
act  of  wisdom,  courage,  and  patriotism.  That  it 
is.  in   fact,  his  highest  duty. 

In  all  likelihood  it  will  not  be  easy  for  Presi- 
dent Eisenhower  to  accept  this  fact.  The  instinct 
of  an  old  soldier  must  be  prompting  him  to  hang 
on,  to  stand  to  his  post  regardless  of  his  wounds. 
No  doubt  this  instinct  is  strengthened  by  the 
impulse  common  to  men  who  have  suffered  a 
sudden,  frightening  illness— the  impulse  to  prove 
that  thev  are  as  good  as  ever.  Perhaps  this  ex- 
plains his  eagerness  to  fly  to  the  NATO  confer- 
ence in  Paris  only  a  few  days  after  his  doctors 
had  announced  that  his  stroke  would  require  "a 
period  of  rest  and  substantially  reduced  activity, 
estimated  at  several  weeks." 

It  also  is  hard  for  any  man  who  sits  at  the 
President's  desk  to  believe  that  anyone  else  can 


safely  take  over  the  infinitely  heavy,  complex, 
and  urgent  tasks  which  he  alone  has  had  an  op- 
portunity to  master.  And  there  always  are  men 
around  every  chief  executive  who  arc'  eager  to 
.issnic  him  (sometimes  sincerely,  sometimes  for 
selfish  reasons)  that  he  has  indeed  become  indis- 
pensable. 

All  these  pressures  must  be  beating  on  the 
President  today,  as  thev  did  on  Wilson  during 
the  pitiful  months  alter  his  stroke  and  on  Frank- 
lin D.  Roosevelt  during  the  last  weeks  of  his  life. 
Both  of  those  cases  demonstrated  how  powerful 
such  pressures  can  be,  and  how  costly  to  the 
nation. 

Yel  at  the  same  time  President  Eisenhower's 
military  training,  if  nothing  else,  must  be  forc- 
ing him  to  question  these  instincts  and  urgings. 
He  can  hardly  forget  how  he  would  have  handled 
such  a  problem  if  it  had  involved  one  of  his 
subordinates  during  World  War  II. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  General  Pattern  had 
been  stricken  with  three  grave  illnesses  during  the 
course  of  his  most  desperately  fought  campaign 
.  .  .  that  he  could  stay  in  the  field  only  about  40 
per  cent  of  the  time  .  .  .  that  crucial  decisions 
repeatedly  had  to  be  postponed  for  days  and 
weeks  .  .  .  that  he  was  threatened  at  every  mo- 
ment with  another  heart  attack,  another  in- 
testinal blockage,  another  stroke.  In  such  cir- 
cumstances, the  Supreme  Commander  could 
never  have  doubted  what  his  duty  was.  He 
would  have  replaced  him  instantly  with  a  well 
man. 

Military  regulations,  in  fact,  do  not  permit  an 
officer  in  President  Eisenhower's  condition  to 
remain  in  command  of  a  company  of  troops  or 
the  smallest  naval  vessel,  even  in  peacetime. 
But  we  are  not  at  peace,  and  President  Eisen- 
hower does  not  command  a  mere  destroyer.  We 
are  in  the  middle  of  the  fiercest  struggle  for  sur- 
vival in  our  history,  and  he  commands  the  Ship 
of  State  itself. 

Unfortunately  there  are  no  regulations,  or 
even  precedents,  to  help  him  make  his  decision. 
He  can  look  for  guidance  only  to  his  own  strong 
sense  of  public  responsibility,  the  counsel  of  his 
family  and  friends,  and  the  voice  of  the  public— 
as  expressed  in  Congress  and  the  press. 

SO  FAR  this  voice  has  been  curiously  muffled 
and  contradictory.  For  reasons  of  delicacy  or 
politics,  many  people  in  Washington  (including 
some  newspapermen)  are  reluctant  to  discuss  the 
issue  openly.  In  private  conversations,  however, 
they  sometimes  are  a  good  deal  more  candid. 
For  example,  a  number  of  Senators  and  other 
political  leaders  in  both  parties  have  told  me 
within  the  last  few  weeks  that  they  do  not  want 
the  President  to  resign,  but  that  it  would  be 
impolitic  for  them  to  explain  their  reasons 
publicly. 
A  few  of  these— some  Democrats,  some  Repub- 


DEMONSTRATION  OFFER 

OF  NEW  BOOKS  OF 

HISTORY  and  WORLD  AFFAIRS 

Take  any  3  for  only  $3M. 


Ysfc 


(VALUES    UP   TO    $24.00) 


Here  is  an  amazingly  generous  demon- 
stration offer.  It  is  made  solely  to 
prove  to  you  how  much  you  will  enjoy  the 
WIDE  VARIETY  of  important  new  books 
of  history  and  world  affairs  you  can  get  at 
cash  savings  through  the  History  Book  Club. 

The  distinguished  selections  pictured  on 
this  page  —  all  handsomely  bound,  and 
many  of  them  illustrated —  sell  for  as  much 
as  $8.50  each  at  publishers'  list  prices.  But 
we  invite  you  to  choose  ANY  THREE  for 
only  $3.95,  if  you  join  the  History  Book 
Club  on  this  Trial  Membership  Offer. 

The  History  Book  Club  selections  are 
chosen  by  an  eminent  Board  of  Historians 
made  up  of  Dumas  Malone,  Walter  Millis 
and  Louis  B.  Wright.  Each  book  is  de- 
scribed to  you  —  in  advance  —  in  a  careful 
and  objective  review.  If  you  do  not  want 
a  book,  you  merely  return  a  printed  form 
(always  provided)  and  it  will  not  be  sent. 
You  may  accept  as  few  as  four  selections 
or  alternates  a  year,  and  resign  at  any  time 
after  accepting  four  such  books. 

You  receive  a  valuable  Free  Bonus  Book 
with  every  fourth  purchase  after  your  ini- 
tial selection.  (Last  year,  counting  the 
value  of  Bonus  Books,  members  saved  an 
average  of  $3.16  on  each  selection.)  And,  in 
addition  to  current  selections,  a  great  many 
other  important  new  books  are  always 
available  to  you,  at  special  Members'  low 
prices  and  with  full  Bonus  Credit. 

Right  now,  choose  ANY  THREE  books 
from  this  page  (values  to  $24.00)  for  only 
$3.95.  Mail  entire  coupon  now  —  without 
money  —  to  History  Book  Club,  Inc.,  Dept. 
HA-22,  40  Guernsey  St.,  Stamford,  Conn. 


(fofiiycyajgjiajj^ 


THE  HISTORY  BOOK  CLUB,  Inc.,  Dept.  HA-22 
40  Guernsey  St.,  Stamford,  Conn. 

Send  me  at  once  the  THREE 
books  I  have  checked,  two  as  my 
enrollment  gift  and  one  as  my 
first  selection,  and  bill  me  ONLY 
$3.95  (plus  a  few  cents  for  post- 
age and  packing).  Forthcoming 
selections  will  be  described  to  me 
in  advance,  and  I  may  decline 
any  book  simply  by  returning  a 
printed  form.  You  will  send  me  a 
valuable  FREE  BONUS  BOOK 
each  time  I  purchase  four  addi- 
tional selections  or  alternates.  My 
only  obligation  is  to  accept  four 
selections  or  alternates  in  the 
first  year  I  am  a  member,  and  I 
may  resign  at  any  time  after  ac- 
cepting four  such  books. 

GUARANTEE:  If  not  completely  satisfied, 
I  may  return  my  first  shipment  within  7 
days,  and  membership  will  be  cancelled. 


I — I     MEMOIRS  OF  GEN.  WM. T.SHERMAN. 

I I     His  own  story,  in  his  own  words, 

of  what  it  was  like  to  lead  the  most 
damned-and- praised  campaign  of  the 
Civil  War— and  one  of  the  most  devas- 
tating of  all   time.    List  price  $8.00. 

I — I     MERCHANT    OF    PRAT0    by   Iris 

I I     Origo.  Extraordinary  biography 

of  a  14th  century  European— from  his 
own,  utterly  frank  writings  on  life, 
trade,  manners  and  morals  on  the  eve 
of  the  Renaissance.  List  price  $7.50. 
HISTORY  OF  THE  GERMAN  GENERAL 
STAFF  by  Walter  Goerlitz.  The 
great  military  geniuses— their  person- 
alities, triumphs  and  fatal  mistakes. 
List  price  $7.50. 

THE  TREE   OF   CULTURE   by  Ralph 

Linton.  Man's  religions,  sciences, 

family   habits  and  civilizations— from 

tribal    beginnings    to    modern    times. 

List  price  $7.50. 

A  WORLD  RESTORED  by  Henry 
Kissinger.  A  new  look  at  one  of 
Europe's  epochal  moments  —  when 
Metternich's  genius  resolved  the  chaos 
after  Napoleon's  defeat,  and  set  up 
a  peace  destined  to  last  a  hundred 
years.  List  price  $6.00, 

MIGHTY  STONEWALL  by  Frank  E. 
Vandwer.     What    kind    of    man 


□ 


□ 


□ 


□ 


D 


□ 


□ 


□ 


Name 

was  this  military  genius  — who  would 
Address.  no'  fight  on  Sunday?  List  price  $6.50. 

KINGDOM  OF  THE  SAINTS  bv  Rav 


City. 


.Zone. 


□ 


State HA-22 


West,  Jr.  The  story  of  the  Mor- 
mons —  their  hard-fought  beginnings, 
unique  religious  rites,  plural  mar- 
riages, and  their  place  in  our  culture 
today.  List  price  $6.00. 


BYZANTIUM:  Greatness  and  Decline 

by  Chirles  Diehl.  Compelling 
record  of  the  splendor  and  barbarity, 
grandeur  and  decadence  of  a  famous 
capital.  List  price  $8.50. 

A  HISTORY  OF  FRANCE  by  Andre 
Maurois.  A  great  author's  mas- 
terful new  history  of  victories,  defeats 
.  .  .  kings,  mistresses,  politicians  and 
heroes.   List  price  $7.50. 

TESTIMONY  OF  THE  SPADE  by 
Geoffrey  Bibby.  Thrilling  "you 
are  there"  reenactment  of  the  lives, 
customs  and  religions  of  prehistory— 
from  Stone  Age  savagery  to  the  dawn 
of  civilization.   List  price  $6.75. 

ARMS  AND  MEN  by  Walter  Millis. 
This  remarkable  study-in-depth 
of  U.  S.  military  history— its  weapons 
and  warriors,  its  hot  and  cold  wars- 
leads  to  a  surprising  new  estimate  of 
our  military's  place  in  the  world  of 
today.  List  price  $5.75. 

I — 1  MILITARY  HISTORY  OF  MODERN 
I I  CHINA  by  F.  F.  Liu.  The  tri- 
umphs and  defeats  of  Chiang's  China, 
through  world  war,  civil  war  and  in- 
ternational upheaval.  List  price  $6.00. 

I — I     THE  REDARMY Ed.  byB.H.Liddetl 

I I     Hart.  The  power  and  potential 

of  the  Soviet  war  machine,  explained 
in  full  by  noted  military  experts  — 
some  who  fought  for  Russia,  some 
who  fought  against.  List  price  $6.00. 
RETURN  TO  POWER  by  Alistair 
Home.  Eye-opening  story  of 
Germany's  post-war  "come-back"— 
how  it  happened,  why  it  happened  and 
who  accomplished  it.  List  price  $6.00. 


□ 


[EMMi'MDMa'DME^ 


12 


THE     EDITORS     EASY     CHAIR 


licans— are  thinking  in  almost  purely  partisan 
terms;  and  their  objections  (enter  on  Vice  Presi- 
dent Richard  M.  Nixon. 

I  he  Demo»  rats  in  this  group  (and  1  am  happy 
to  report  thai  I  did  not  End  main  <>l  them)  are 
content  to  see  the  Administration  drift  along  in 
its  present  state  ol  semi-paralysis,  rhe  longer  it 
drifts  the  more  sine  they  leel  of  victory,  both  in 
the  Congressional  elections  tins  I. ill  and  in  the 
I960  Presidential  election.  II  Nixon  should  take 
over,  the)  suspect  he  might  act  with  enough  de- 
cision and  vigoi  to  restore  public  confidence  in 
the  Republican  party;  and  he  certainly  would 
have  a  <  hance  to  build  a  record  and  public  image 
of  himsell  which  would  make  him  a  more  formi- 
dable opponent   in    1960. 

\  lew  ol  these  Democrats— all  Southerners  and 
all  in  Congress— cite  .n\  additional  reason.  They 
feel  that  the  powei  ol  the  White  House  has  been 
growing,  at  the  expense  ol  Congress,  for  the  last 
quarter  ol  a  century.  Now,  with  the  executive 
branch  weak  and  glowing  weaker,  they  see  a 
chance  to  restore  much  of  this  lost  authority  to 
Capitol  Hill.  Moreover,  a  feeble  executive  can- 
not push  ahead  with  certain  lines  of  action— 
particularly  in  the  fields  of  civil  rights  and  race 
relations  which  these-  Southerners  mortally  op- 
pose. (The  faults  and  dangers  ol  Congressional 
government,  which  Woodrow  Wilson  set  forth  so 
clearly  in  his  great  treatise  on  the  subject,  don't 
woiia  them  in  the  least;  the\  want  a  dominant 
Congress,  because  Congress  is  largely  controlled 
l>\  Southerners;  and  when  the  interests  of  the 
South— the  white  South,  that  is— are  at  stake,  the 
nation  and  the  Free  World  run  second  and 
third.  They  are,  ol  course,  a  minority  of  the 
Southerners  in  Congress;  the  majorit)  are  as 
patriotic    and   responsible  as  anyone.) 

Some  Democrats  of  a  different  stripe,  mostly 
Northern  liberals,  cannot  forgive  Nixon's  tactics 
in  past  campaigns,  particularly  his  insinuation 
that  theirs  was  a  party  of  treason:  and  this  per- 
sonal  dislike  overrides  all   other  considerations. 

A  related  view  is  held  by  some  Republicans, 
mostly  Know  land  supporters.  They  don't  like 
Nixon;  don't  want  him  in  the  White  House  now 
or  ever;  and  oppose  any  move  that  might 
strengthen  his  hand. 

Probably  a  larger  group  in  both  parties  would 
like  to  see  the  President  stav  on  for  an  entirely 
different  reason.  One  of  the  ablest  Republican 
Senators  explained  it  to  me  in  these  terms: 

"No  matter  how  incapacitated  Ike  may  be,  he 
still  has  one  thing  nobody  else  has— and  that  is 
the  one  thing  we  can't  do  without.  He  is  the  only 
man  in  the  world  who  can  rally  both  this  country 
and  our  European  allies  in  a  moment  of  crisis. 
Nixon  is  almost  unknown  abroad,  and  he  arouses 
a  lot  of  partisan  feeling  at  home.  Adenauer  is 
old  and  sick,  too;  Macmillan  doesn't  seem  to 
have  a  majority  of  his  own  people  behind  him; 
Fiance  has  nobody.    Without  Eisenhower's  lead- 


ership—faltering as  it  is— the  whole  alliance 
might  fall  apart.  Even  toda\  he  can  blow  that 
bugle  like   nobody  else.'' 

This  argument  clearly  deserves  respect  (as 
some  ol  the  others  do  nor).  Hut  it  is  an  argu- 
ment that  gets  weakei  da\  l>\  day;  loi  Mr.  Eisen- 
hower's prestige  is  a  wasting  asset.  No  doubt  he 
will  remain  a  beloved  figure— but  his  ability  to 
i. ill\  the  coalition 'inevitably  will  dwindle,  as  his 
Administration  sinks  deeper  into  confusion  and 
impotence.    Only  the  strong  can   lead. 

BUT  isn't  it  possible  that  the  Administra- 
tion might  regain  at  least  some  of  its  author- 
ity  and  ch  ive? 

I  cannot  see  how.  Nobody  1  have  talked  to  in 
either  party  expresses  an)  confidence  on  tins 
score:  and  the  more  carefully  one  examines  the 
situation,  the  harder  it  is  to  find  any  grounds 
lot  confidence. 

To  begin  with,  there  is  no  prospect  whatever 
that  President  Eisenhower  can  recover  the  vigor 
to  run  the  government  himself.  Age  alone— aside 
from  his  illnesses— makes  that  inconceivable.  At 
sixty-seven  he  alreadv  is  beyond  the  compulsory 
retirement  age  ol  most  corporations;  in  another 
\cai  he  will  be  the  oldest  man  who  ever  held  the 
Presidency.  Even  before  his  heart  attack,  he 
found  it  necessary  to  spend  more  time  away  from 
his  desk  than  any  modern  President;  now,  after 
a  third  grave  illness,  he  has  no  alternative  but 
to  seek  the  maximum  of  rest,  the  minimum  of 
strain.  At  best  he  can  continue  to  sign  the  papers 
placed  before  him,  to  preside  at,  an  occasional 
meeting,  to  receive  distinguished  visitors,  and 
to  express  an  opinion  on  issues  presented  by  his 
stall. 

Hut  this  is  a  vcr\  small  part  ol  the  work  of  the 
Presidency.  All  the  rest  of  it  must  be  handled— 
so  long  as  he  remains  the  nominal  chief— by  some 
kind  of  makeshift  device.  Only  two  such  devices 
seem  to  be  feasible. 

One  of  them  is  Government  by  Committee. 
This  is  the  system  now  in  effect,  as  James  Reston 
of  the  New  York  Times  Washington  staff 
pointed  out  in  his  recent  noteworthy  series  of 
articles  on  the  Presidency.  The  membership  of 
the  governing  council  varies  from  time  to  time, 
but  in  general  it  consists  of  the  Vice  President; 
Sherman  Adams,  Assistant  to  the  President  and 
in  effect  his  chief  of  staff:  the  Cabinet  officers; 
the  heads  of  certain  independent  agencies,  such 
as  the  Atomic  Energy  Commission;  and  a  few 
top  military  men. 

When  he  is  able,  the  President  sits  in  on  the 
deliberations  of  his  councilors,  in  whatever 
grouping  may  be  appropriate  for  the  task  in 
hand— a  Cabinet  meeting,  a  formal  session  of 
the  NSC,  or  an  informal  chat  with  Nixon, 
Adams,  and  the  agency  chiefs  concerned  with  a 
particular  problem.  But  his  personal  participa- 
tion cannot  be  very  great.    Some  agency  heads 


END  FAMILY  MONEY  WORRIES 

with  these  2  FREE  guides  i 


2E*XL*«. 


CHHHC[S 


COM/IVC 


1001  tested  ways  to  increase  income... 
stretch  dollars...have  more..  Jive  better 
without  penny-pinching  from  now  on! 

Your  money  troubles  start  easing  up  fast  with  the  help  of  these 
remarkable  guides — yours  FREE  if  you  reply  quickly.  108  pages 
of  down-to-earth  information — assembled  nowhere  else — give 
hundreds  of  new  ideas  on  how  to  get  ahead,  get  higher  pay,  live 
better,  buy  smarter,  avoid  gyps,  do  better  at  the  everyday  bus- 
iness of  living  .  .  .  right  now  and  in  the  amazing  new  world  of 
tomorrow.  Discover  your  strong  points,  weak  points — where  you 
can  improve  with  help  like  this : 

KNOW-HOW  FOR  LIVING  BETTER  TODAY 


me  mmm  ma 
ma 

book  of 


YOtffi  JOB  A«&  «»»  mmi 


LOOK  AHEAD 
25  YEARS 
Whot'll  it  be  like? 

Fantastic!  For  exam- 
ple, cars — automatic 
steering,  2-way  TV} 
clothes  —  disposable 
after  two  wearings; 
houses — built-in  dry 
cleaning;  kitchens — 
3-minute  dish  wash- 
ing with  air;  money 
— double  today's  in- 
come, more  fun; 
travel — suburbs  500 
miles  from  work.  No 
wild-eyed  dreams. 
All  facts.  Hundreds 
more.  Know  what  to 
do  now  to  profit  then. 


How  to  protect  the  family  income 
7  ways 

i  When    it    pays    to    pre-pay    your 
I     mortgage 

'  How  to  clinch  a  pay  raise 

1  What  it  takes  to  go  in  business 
for  yourself 

How  to   figure   your   financial 
I     worth— draw  up  a  working  plan 

[Overlooked  ways  of  cutting  your 
income  tax 

How  to  show  a  family  "profit" 

[How  to  finance  a   car  at  lowest 
rates 

Eosy  way  to  Veep  family  expenses 
down 

I  What   a    young    man    should    do 
with  his  money  — 4  plans 

'Suggested  spending  plans  for 
I    three  income  levels 

How  to  size  up  cost  of  owning  a 


ranch,    two-story,    or    split-level 
house 

Investment  plans  for  average 
earners 

Yardsticks  of  family  spending  for 
clothes,  health,  recreation,  etc. 

Techniques  of  job  getting,  job 
holding  success 

7  ways  to  achieve  an  ideal  in- 
surance program 

Part-time  jobs  for  women— check 
list  of  9  wide-open  fields 

What  executives  want  most  in  a 
secretary 

30  "safe"  common  stocks  for 
investment 

10  ways  to  get  set  now  for  happy 
retirement 

How  to  spot  a  bargain  from  a 
"packed  price" 

How  to  save  $1,149  in  interest  on 
a  mortgage 


TEST  YOURSELF 


See  how  much  you  know — about 
the  following  statements  TRUE  or 
below  —  but  don't  peek  now. 

1.  You  can't  deduct  from  your 
income  tax  the  market  value 
of  cast-off  clothing  given  to 
the  Salvation  Army. 

2.  On  $600  a  month  Income 
you  can  safely  spend  $92  on 
mortgage  payments. 

3.  Buying  stocks  is  one  of  the 
best  ways  to  make  sure  your 
dollars  today  are  worth  as 
much  in  25  years. 

4.  Term  insurance  gives  a  grow* 
Ing  family  all  the  protection 
It  needs. 

5.  Part-time  work  does  not 
qualify  a  person  for  social 
security. 

Answers: 


your  money,  job,  and  living.  Are 
FALSE?  Correct  answers  shown 


6.  A  typical  middle-income 
family  of  4  should  expect  to 
pay  $30  to  $35  a  week  for 
food. 

7.  Figures  show  that  70%  of 
workers  over  45  perform  as 
well  or  better  than  younger 
workers. 

8.  It  always  costs  less  to  finance 
a  new  car  through  a  dealer. 

9.  Investing  a  fixed  sum  at 
regular  intervals  is  the  best 
way  to  buy  stocks. 

10.  The  biggest  retail  lines  In 
1980  will  be  appliances  and 
recreational  equipment. 


1. 

False 

2. 

True 

3. 

True 

4. 

False 

s. 

False 

6. 

True 

7. 

True 

S. 

False 

9. 

True 

10. 

True 

Whatever  your  score  you'll  profit  by  reading  full  answers  in  the  FREE 
guides  and  keeping  up  to  date  with  CHANGING  TIMES  MAGAZINE. 


"I  have  saved  actual  cash  on  time- 
ly advice  that  continually  appears 
in  your  wonderful  magazine." 

—Mr.  V.  L.,  B'klyn,  N.  Y. 


"The  price  I  paid  for  a  subscrip- 
tion   has    already    been    repaid 
several  times  over." 
—  C.  T.  H.,  Highland  Park,  Mich. 


WHY  THESE  VALUABLE  GUIDES  ARE  OFFERED  TO  YOU  FREE 


I  Ever  wonder  why  some  families  seem  able 
i  to  do  more,  have  more,  afford  more  on  in- 
|  comes  smaller  than  yours  .  .  .  why  one 
family  with  $10,000  a  year  coming  in  goes 
broke  while  another  does  fine  on  half  as 
.  much?  It's  simple.  The  lower  income  family 
knows  how  to  get  ALL  its  money's  worth. 

Where  could  a  family  get  such  information 
— keep  up  with  changing  ways  of  making 
and  saving  money?  Nowhere — until  Kip- 
i  linger  began  publishing  the  famous  monthly 
magazine  Changing  Times.  Now  over 
600,000  families  wouldn't  be  without  it. 
More  than  a  magazine,  it  is  a  practical, 
personal  service  that  brings  you  fresh, 
dollars-and-cents  ideas  on  good  buys,  in- 
surance, houses,  investing,  health,  educa- 
j  t'on,  financing . . .  everything  your  family 
:  needs  to  live  better  from  now  on. 

Try  Changing  Times.  See  how  it  can  help 

i  you  save  and  make  money,  build  security, 

j  get  more  satisfaction  from  life.  With  your 

first  issue,  you  receive  FREE,  as  a  gift, 

BOTH  wonderful  guides — "1001  Ideas  for 


Family  Success"  and  "Look  25  Years 
Ahead."  They  start  you  off,  get  you  organ- 
ized. Then  Changing  Times  guides  you 
forward  with  hundreds  of  dollars  worth  of 
expert  advice  you  can  USE  at  once. 

Changing  Times  carries  no  advertising  .  .  . 
cannot  be  bought  at  newsstands.  All 
ninety-six  pages  of  each  issue  are  written 
by  specialists  solely  for  your  welfare.  Put 
the  positive,  tested  ideas  in  Changing 
Times  to  work  in  your  home  with  this 
Special  Introductory  Offer: 


INTRODUCTORY  TRIAL  OFFER 

6  months  of  Changing  Times  for  only  $2 

Send  money  now,  or  we'll  bill  you.  Either  way, 
coupon  brings  the  next  6  issues  of  CHANGING 
TIMES  for  only  $2  (Reg.  yearly  ratr  $6),  and  at 
no  extra  cost,  the  two  guides,  "1001  Ideas  for 
Family  Success"  and  "Look  25  Years  Ahead". 
•►  NOTE:  Wecannotguaranteepresentlowtrialrate 
beyond  30  days  from  the  date  of  this  publication. 


START 
LIVING 
BETTER 

• 

MAIL 
TODAY 


CHANGING  TIMES,  The  Kiplinger  Magazine 

Room  717,  1729  H  Street,  N.W.,  Washington  6,  D.  C. 

Send  me  FREE  your  "1001   Ideas  for  Family  Success"  and  "Look  25  Years 

Ahead."  Also  enter  my  subscription  to  CHANGING  TIMES  for  6  months  for 

only  $2.00  (Regular  rate  $6  yearly.) 

□  Payment  enclosed  □  Bill  me 

Name  


Address 
City 


Zone 


State. 


.    I 
J 


14 


In  times 
like  these . . . 


Should  you  buy? 

Should  you  sell  ? 

We  can't  give  you  categorical  an- 
swers to  those  questions,  of  course, 
because  individual  circumstances  will 
always  dictate  the  best  course  for  any 
security  owner. 

But  we  do  want  to  emphasize  the 
fact  that  our  basic  philosophy  of  in- 
vesting remains  unchanged.  We  can 
sum  it  up  in  two  statements — 

(1)  We  believe  that  now  is  as  good 
a  time  as  any  to  invest  in  Amer- 
ican business  through  owner- 
ship of  carefully  selected  stocks 
or  bonds  /'/  you  have  extra 
money  after  providing  for  liv- 
ing expenses,  adequate  insur- 
ance, and  an  emergency  fund. 

(2)  We  believe  that  any  portfolio 
should  be  reviewed  periodically 
— in  any  kind  of  market — to 
see  if  it  can  be  improved  by 
exchanging  one  stock  for  an- 
other, shifting  into  bonds  or 
preferred  stocks — or,  reversing 
this  procedure  when  times  seem 
opportune. 

If  you  have  any  doubts  about  your 
proper  course  of  action  in  the  present 
situation,  we  hope  you'll  feel  free  to 
submit  your  problem  to  our  Research 
Department. 

Our  portfolio  analysts  will  be  happy 
to  suggest  the  most  suitable  moves 
they  can,  and  you  won't  be  charged  a 
cent  for  their  detailed  analysis  of  your 
current  position.  No,  you  won't  incur 
any  obligation,  either. 

If  you  think  such  an  analysis  might 
prove  helpful,  simply  write  to  — 

Allan  D.   Gulliver,  Department  SW-ll 

Merrill  Lynch, 
Pierce,  Fenner  &  Beane 

Members  New  York  Stock  Exchange 
and  all  other  Principal  Exchanges 

70  Pine  Street,  New  York  5,  N.  Y. 

Offices  in  112  Cities 


THE     EDITOR'S     EASY     CHAIR 


have    nol     seen     him     Eoi     months. 

Mosl  questions  (1  am  told)  come 
to  him  in  the  Eorm  of  short  memo- 
randa laid  on  his  desk  In  Slid  in. in 
Adams.  Normally  these  are  recom- 
mendations lot  .k  lion  in  |)oli(  \,  with 
.i  terse  outline  of  background  infor- 
mation. The  President  merely  has  to 
indicate  "Yes"  or  "No"— and  in  the 
great  majority  of  cases  he  says  "Yes" 
to  the  recommendations  drafted  by 
the  White  House  staff. 

Within  its  limitations,  this  system 
seems  to  work  fairly  efficiently.  Cer- 
tainly it  relieves  Mr.  Eisenhower  of 
a  great  load  of  administrative  re- 
sponsibility; and  it  keeps  the  routine 
wheels  of  government  turning 
in  theii  accustomed  ruts.  Rut  its  limi- 
tations are  very  serious  indeed. 

For  one  thing,  it  is  not  designed  to 
handle  the  biggest  and  hardest  prob- 
lems. Many  of  these  never  reach  the 
President,  and  therefore  are  never 
settled  at  all.  Mr.  Eisenhower  has 
always  disliked  controversy,  and 
even  before  his  illness  he  insisted 
that  the  recommendations  brought 
to  him  should,  whenever  possible, 
present  a  solution  agreed  upon  by 
everyone  concerned.  Today  it  is 
more  important  than  ever  that  he 
should  not  be  subjected  to  the  strain 
—mental,  physical,  and  emotional— 
of  weighing  the  arguments  lor  two 
or  three  possible  solutions,  and  listen- 
ing to  the  pleas  of  passionate  advo- 
cates on  ea<  h  side. 

But  the  really  tough  problems  can- 
not be  reduced  to  a  single  recommen- 
dation, agreeable  to  everybody.  They 
involve  deep  conflicts  of  interest  or 
conviction— usually  so  deep  they  can- 
not be  compromised.  They  can  be 
settled  only  by  knocking  heads  to- 
gether, making  an  unpleasant  choice 
between  the  contenders,  or  some- 
times only  by  firing  a  Cabinet  officer 
or  agency  chief.  These  are  things 
that  even  Sherman  Adams  cannot  do 
(particularly  when  a  strong  Congres- 
sional bloc  is  enlisted  on  one  side  or 
both).  In  such  cases  the  elaborate 
machinery  of  the  White  House  staff 
—including  the  Budget  Bureau,  the 
National  Security  Council,  and  the 
Council  of  Economic  Advisers— is  no 
help,  however  effective  it  may  be  in 
ironing  out  the  smaller  problems. 

Consequently,  issues  of  this  kind 
are  often  laid  aside,  or  debated  end- 
lessly within  the  departments  and 
staff  agencies  in  a  hopeless  effort  to 


reach  an  agreement— because,  m 
vdams  so  often  sa\s.  "We  niusl 
bother  the  President  with  the! 
squabbles."  I  his  seems  to  be  I 
main  reason,  for  example,  why  I 
armed  scnices  have  never  been  al 
to  come  up  with  a  single,  coma 
hensive  strategic  doctrine  lor  ■ 
cold  war  .  .  .  why  the  missile  p.. 
gram  is  in  such  a  mess  .  .  .  and  \\y 
the  fundamental  differences  bctwu 
Nixon  and  Dulles  on  certain  fore* 
polity  questions  have  never  bu 
resolved. 

ANOTHER  grave  limitatij 
of  the  committee  system  is  trl 
it  cannot  create  a  new  progna 
which  sweeps  across  many  depali 
mental  lines.  No  bureaucrat  ci 
safeh  push  forward  an  idea  whi.i 
reaches  beyond  his  own  little  bac- 
yard;  all  the  other  bureaucrats  1 
stantly  resent  his  encroachment  J 
their  territories,  and  gang  up  I 
knock  his  head  off.  As  a  result,  J 
the  big  questions  involving  mai 
agen<  ies— disarmament,  for  instant 
or  foreign  economic  policy— the  gd 
ernment  inevitably  tends  to  folic! 
directives  laid  down  by  Preside* 
Eisenhower  during  his  early  niont 
in  office. 

This  is  why  so  many  of  the  Admi  I 
istiation's  policies  have  grown  stal 
and  rigid.  Although  conditions  1 
the  otiiei  world  change  constant! 
noboch  in  the  lower  levels  of  gofj 
ernment  dares  to  take  the  initiative 
in  devising  fresh,  bold,  imaginathl 
ideas  to  meet  these  changes;  and  rl 
could  not  carry  them  very  far  if  hi 
did.  Here,  as  Cabell  Phillips  m 
cently  observed,  nothing  can  "sulv 
stitute  for  the  authority  or  prestigj 
or  personal  vitality  of  the  Preside™ 
Committees  cannot  rule;  about  th 
best  they  can  do  is  to  reach  the  lov 
est  common  denominator  of  consen 
Tough  policy  decisions  that  may  cal! 
for  sacrifice  and  danger  aren't  mad 
that  way." 

Finally,  a  committee  cannot  figh 
all  the  Administration's  program 
through  Congress.  This  is  perhap 
the  hardest  and  most  vital  of  all  th< 
President's  jobs;  and  only  he  cai 
handle  it.  Nobody  else  can  tall 
tough  to  a  balky  Senator.  Nobod; 
else  can  mobilize  public  opinion,  oi 
wield  the  combination  of  persuasion 
political  discipline,  appeals  to  per 
sonal    loyalty,    patronage    pressure 


WM::::;^Wf:iP+:' 


In  cities  where 

stamp  use  is  greatest 

food  prices  have 

risen  the  least 


In  these  inflationary  times,  the  finger  of  biame  for  rising  food 

prices  is  being  pointed  in  many  directions.  It  should  be  interesting  to  American 
consumers  to  know  that  the  trading  stamp  is  not  a  contributing  factor. 


This  fact  has  been  shown  in  two  ways  by  the 
studies  of  marketing  experts  in  universities. 
First,  these  studies  found  no  evidence  that 
stamp  stores,  as  a  class,  charge  higher  prices 
than  non-stamp  stores.  Second,  from  a  com- 
parative use  of  the  Bureau  of  Labor  Statistics 
Index,  they  found  that  food  prices  have  risen 
the  least  in  cities  where  stamps  are  given 
most. 

Between  December  1954  and  December 
1956,  when  food  prices  for  all  U.  S.  cities  rose 
1.8%,  the  same  prices  rose  2.8%  in  five  Index 
cities  where  supermarkets  did  not  give 
stamps. 

During  the  same  period,  in  ten  cities  where 
50%  or  more  of  both  chains  and  independent 
supermarkets  gave  stamps,  prices  rose  only 


1.3%.  And,  in  the  three  cities  where  stamp 
use  was  highest  (75%  of  all  supermarkets), 
food  prices  rose  only  1.2%. 

These  city  by  city  comparisons  are  addi- 
tional evidence  that  trading  stamps  exert 
competitive  pressure  to  help  keep  food  prices 
down.  It  seems  reasonable  to  assume  that, 
for  families  living  in  "stamp  cities,"  stamps 
have  helped  contribute  to  a  lower  cost  of 
living  in  food  purchases. 


EEFEEENCES:  "Competition  and  Trading  Stamps  in 
Retailing."  Dr.  Eugene  R.  Beem,  School  of  Business 
Administration,  University  of  California. 

"Trading  Stamp  Practice  and  Pricing  Policy."  Dr. 
Albert  Haring  and  Dr.  Wallace  O.  Yoder,  Marketing 
Department,  School  of  Business,  Indiana  University. 


This  page  is  one  of  a  series  presented  for  your  information  by 

THE  SPEKRY  AND  HUTCHINSON  COMPANY  which  pioneered  61  years  ago  in  the  movement 

to  give  trading  stamps  to  consumers  as  a  discount  for  paying  cash.  S&H  GREEN  STAMPS 

are  currently  being  saved  by  millions  of  consumers. 


16 


To  enjoy  the  full  beauty  of  Spring  .  . 


|y^;;J| 

K§M^  4^  JpI 

SSwW*] 

CAPRI  —  I    FARAGLIONI 


Watch  the  miracle  of  another  Spring  transforming  the  golden  countryside  throughout 
this  lovely  land  .  .  .  ushering  in  a  colorful  new  season  of  activities  and  events  .  . .  welcoming 
you  to  fascinating  cities  and  towns  where  historic  centuries  live  on  in  art  and  architecture. 
Today's  Family  Plan  transatlantic  fares  make  your  trip  cost  less  than  ever.  Also  the 

INCLUSIVE  TOURS 

sold  only  through  Travel  Agents,  make  available  special  reduced  rates  for  transatlantic 

transportation. 
Air  travel  in  Italy  and  luxurious  motor  coach  tours  are  surprisingly  inexpensive  .  .   . 
15  and  30-day  rail  tickets  provide  unlimited  travel  .  .  .  and  if  you  take  your  own  car, 
special  coupons  provide  gasoline  at  reduced  costs.  Italy  offers  you  the  best  of  everything 
.  .  .fine  hotels,  wonderful  food,  incredible  shopping  bargains.  See  your  Travel  Agent  now! 

IF  YOU  VISIT  ITALY  BEFORE  MARCH  15 

you'll  save  Id'  <  to  20%  more  with  the  Italian 
Tourist  Economy  Plan.  Sold  only  through  Travel 
Agents  here  in  the  I  nited  States. 


ITALIAN   STATE  TOURIST   OFFICE  —  E.  N.  I.  T. 

21  East  51st  Street,  New  York  22,  N.  Y. 

CHICAGO— 333  N.  Michigan  Ave.  NEW  ORLEANS— International  Trade  Mart 

SAN  FRANCISCO— St.  Francis  Hotel 


Imagine  Making 
(5,000  a  Year  Writing 
in  Your  Spare  Time! 

Fantastic?  Not  at  All  .  .  .  Hundreds 
of  People  Make  That  Much  or  More 
Every    Year  -  and   Have   Fun   Doing  It! 

Some  authors  may  be  born  but  most  are  made. 
You  can  learn  writing  just  as  you  learn  anything 
else.  There's  no  mystery.  It  is,  in  fact,  surprisingly 
simple.  Your  next  door  neighbor,  unknown  to  you, 
may  be  depositing  publishers'  checks  regularly.  If 
she  is.  the  chances  are  100  to  1  that  it  is  because  she 
learned  her  trade.  And  you  can  learn  the  funda- 
mentals you  must  know  to  succeed  as  a  writer. 

The  famous  NYS  course  offers  COMPLETE 
training  .  .  .  fiction  and  non-fiction.  Your  instruc- 
tors are  active  editors  and  writers  .  .  .  and  your 
salable  scripts  will  be  marketed  on  a  10%  commis- 
sion basis  by  the  leading  literary  agent  who  placed, 
among  other  successes,  the  famous  book  and  play 
THE  TEAHOUSE  OF  THE  AUGUST  MOON. 
Send  for  free  information  today.  No  salesman  will 
call  on  you. 

—  FREE   BOOKLET   COUPON  — 


The  New  York  School  of  Writing 
Dept.  330,  2  East  45th  Street 
New  York  17,  New  York 
Please  send  me  without  obligation,  yi 
\\   [ting  for  a  Well-pa3  ing   Careei 


Noma. 
Street. 


City. 


Licensed  by  the  State  of  New  York 


phase  care.,. 

hunger    hurts! 


Join  the  CARE  Food  Crusade  to 
share  America's  farm  abundance 
with  those  who  need  it  desperate- 
ly. The  U.S.  Government  gives  the 
food.  Every  $1  you  give  delivers 
a  22  lb.  package,  in  your  name, 
to  a  hungry  family  abroad  .  .  . 
helps  feed  four  persons  an  entire 
month! 


Send  your  dollars  to: 

CARE  Food  Crusade 

New  York  16,  N.  Y. 

or  your 
local  office 


iff* 


m* 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 

and  awesome  authority  which  ai 
often  necessar)  to  swing  a  Congres 
sional  vote.  Roosevelt  and  Trumai 
spent  innumerable  hours  in  this  kim 
dl  exhausting  combat.  (On  the  rar 
occasions  when  they  tried  to  tick 
gate  Congressional  liaison— to 
Tommy  Corcoran,  a  Harry  Hopkins 
.i  John  Steelman— the  results  wer 
nearl)  always  disastrous.)  Even  wliei 
he  \N.ts  well  Mi .  I  isenhower  shran 
from  this  i.tsk,  and  now  ii  is  clear! 
beyond  his  strength.  It  is  not  sua 
prising,  therefore,  thai  so  many  o 
the  Administration's  proposals  ol  th 
last  fout  years  have  died  on  I  h 
Hill:  and  ii  is  a  virtual  ccrtaintx  tha:| 
few  ol  them  will  emerge  uncrippled 
from  the  present  session  ol  Congress 

SI  NCE   it   is  obvious  that   Go\| 
eminent    by    Committee    is    no 
working  well,  many  people  in  Wash] 
ington    have    been    quietl)    looking 
around  lor  an  alternative.  The)  liav 
hit   upon  only  one  device— short   a 
Mr.  Eisenhower's  retirement— whid 
seems  to  warranl  serious  discussioi 
I  his  is  Government  l>\   Deputy. 

The  deputy,  of  course,  would  b 
Mi.    Nixon.     The    idea    being    .it 
vanced  in  private  by  several  respoi 
sible  political  leaders  (including  th 
Republican   Senator  quoted  carlieii 
is  thai  the  President  should  formalll 
delegate  most  of  his  powers  to   th 
Vice     President.      Mr.     Eisenhowe 
would  remain  the  symbolic  chief  cl 
state:  he  could  still  issue  pronounce; 
ments  from  time  to  time  when  it  m 
necessary     to     "blow     that     bugle,  'j 
Meanwhile  the  executive  energy  anl 
initiative   which    now    are   so    sadll 
lacking  would   be   supplied  by   Mil 
Nixon— who  is  young,  healthy,   anj 
endowed  with  enough  drive  for  hall 
a-dozen  men. 

If  it  could  be  worked  out,  such  aijj 
arrangement  obviously   would   be 
vast   improvement  over  the  commii 
tee    svstem.     At    least    in    theory,    i 
should  cure  most  of  the  difficultie 
mentioned  above.    There  are  gravj 
doubts,    however,   whether   it   coultlj 
be    put    into   effect— or,    if   it    wen 
whether    the   new   machinery   coul<|| 
be  adjusted  to  work  smoothly  with] 
in  the  three  years  remaining  to  thij. 
Administration. 

To  begin  with,  Mr.  Eisenhowelj 
never  showed  any  willingness  to  dele 
gate  a  real  measure  of  authorid 
even  during  the  worst  crises  of  his  x  11  i 


A    COLLEGE    E  DUG  ATION 
DOES    NOT    MAKE    AN 


pi 

E..iyUUO|K  p'^-M  A  N 

8gk.  i  111. I  L 


A  message  from  Dr.  Mortimer  J.  Adler, 

EDITOR,  THE  SYNTOPICON 

"The  greatest  mistake  anyone  can  make  about  liberal  edu- 
cation is  to  suppose  that  it  can  be  acquired,  once  and  for 
all,  in  the  course  of  one's  youth  and  by  passing  through 

%4 1  school  and  college. 

"This  is  what  schoolboys  do  not  know  and,  perhaps,  cannot  be  expected  to 

understand  while  they  are  still  in  school.  They  can  be  pardoned  the  illusion 

that,  as  they  approach  the  moment  of  graduation,  they  are  finishing 

their  education.  But  no  intelligent  adult  is  subject  to  this  illusion  for  long, 

once  his  formal  schooling  is  completed. 
"He  soon  learns  how  little  he  knows  and  knows  how  much  he  has  to 
learn.  He  soon  comes  to  understand  that  if  his  education  were  finished  with 
school,  he,  too,  would  be  finished,  so  far  as  mental  growth  or  maturity 
of  understanding  and  judgment  are  concerned. 
"With  the  years  he  realizes  how  very  slowly  any  human  being 
grows  in  wisdom.  With  this  realization  he  recognizes  that  the  reason  why 
schooling  cannot  make  young  people  wise  is  also  the  reason  why  it  cannot 
complete  their  education.  The  fullness  of  time  is  required  for  both." 


ESSENTIAL  IN  THE 
LIBRARY  OF  EVERY  THINKING  PERSON 


Published  by 

the  Encyclopaedia 

Britannica 

in  collaboration  with 

the  University  of  Chicago 


GREAT  BOOKS 

OF  THE   WESTERN  WORLD 


Now  available  direct  from  the  publisher 
with  great  new 

SYNTOPICON 

fascinating  "idea-interpreter" 


•TVHE  publication  of  this  Private 
•*-  Library  Edition  of  the  great 
books  is  regarded  as  an  outstanding 
event  in  the  fields  of  literature,  phi- 
losophy and  science.  It  is  not  just  a 
reprint  of  books  already  in  your  li- 
brary. The  54  volumes  which  com- 
prise the  great  books  were  pub- 
lished after  8  years  of  research  by  75 
scholars  at  a  cost  of  over  two  million 
dollars.  Many  of  the  books  have 
been  especially  translated  into  Eng- 
lish. Many  of  them  are  out  of  print 
and  unobtainable  through  normal 
channels.  Together  they  include  all 
the  accumulated  wisdom  of  3,000 
years  of  civilization. 

The  list  of  authors  is  impressive — 
Homer,  Plato,  Dante,  Shakespeare, 
St.  Augustine,  Milton,  Machiavelli, 
Faraday,  Kepler  and  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas — to  name  just  a  few  of  the 
74  authors  and  scholars  whose  works 
are  represented  in  this  special  edition 
of  the  great  books.  The  area  of 
thought  is  limitless.  Every  great  idea 
that  has  shaped  the  lives  of  thinking 


men  is  explored — astronomy,  ethics, 
philosophy,  war,  peace,  religion, 
death,  love,  mathematics,  medicine, 
science,  theology — 102  ideas  that 
have  occupied  great  minds  since  man 
could  think. 

But  the  magnitude  of  the  great  books  is  not  in 
its  authors  and  subject  matter  alone.  Pub- 
lished with  them  is  a  great  new  SYNTOPICON 
designed  to  make  your  reading  more  mean- 
ingful. The  syntopicon  is 
quite  literally  a  great  teacher 
"living"  in  your  home  ...  al- 
ways at  your  disposal  to 
guide  your  reading  ...  in- 
terpret the  great  ideas  .  .  . 
make  clear  to  you  the  most 
abstract  thought.  With  the 
SYNTOPICON  you  will  find  new 
excitement  in  new  ideas  .  .  . 
new  absorbing  interests  .  .  . 
new  understanding  of  your- 
self and  other  people. 

We  urge  you  not  to  miss 
this  opportunity  to  en- 


rich your  mind  with  this  Private  Li- 
brary Edition  of  the  great  books. 
Send  now  for  the  free  booklet  which 
describes  this  handsome  edition  in 
detail.  Look  it  over  .  .  .  think  it  over. 
But  don't  wait  to  mail  in  the  coupon 
below.  The  supply  of  these  booklets  is 
necessarily  limited.  Avoid  the  chance 
of  disappointment  by  mailing  your 


coupon  now 


MAIL  THIS  COUPON  TODAY  FOR  FREE  BOOKLET 


GREAT  BOOKS  OF  THE  WESTERN   WORLD, 

DEPT.     163-B 

425  N.  Michigan  Avenue,  Chicago  11,  Illinois 

Please  send  me,  free  and  without  obligation, 
your  handsome  booklet  which  pictures  and 
describes  the  revolutionary  syntopicon  and 
the  great  books  in  full  detail.  Also,  include 
complete  information  on  how  I  may  obtain 
this  magnificent  set,  direct  from  the  publisher, 
on  your  special  budget  plan. 


Nnmp. 

A  rl Atp.su. 

tpleaeo  print) 

OUy 

fZtntP. 

18 


This 

man 

is 

looking 

into 

your 
future 

How  does  it  look?  Rosy?  Free  of 
cancer?  You  hope!  But  hoping 
isn't  enough.  Of  every  6  Americans 
who  get  cancer  this  year,  3  will  die 
because  science  still  has  no  cure.  It 
will  take  research  .  .  .  lots  of  re- 
search ...  to  find  that  cure.  And 
research,  let's  face  it,  takes  money. 

Instead  of  just  standing  by  with 
hope,  pitch  in  and  help.  Send  your 
dollars  .  .  .  whatever  you  can 
afford  ...  to  the  American 
Cancer  Society  today.  You'll 
be  bringing  yourself  and 
everyone  else  that  much 
closer  to  a  sure  future.  Send 
your  check  to  "Cancer"  in 
care  of  your  local  Post  Office. 

American  Cancer  Society 


THE     EDITOR'S     EASY     CHAIR 


* 


nesses.  (Consequently  Mr.  Nixon 
had  to  move  verj  gingerl)  indeed,  to 
avoid  .imv  suspii  ion  thai  he  was  try- 
ing to  usurp  power,  and  to  keep  oul 
ol  fi^liis  with  Adams  and  the  othei 
regents.)  Now  thai  the  Presidenl  is 
partiall)  recovered,  he  presumabl) 
will  be  even  more  reluctant.  And 
thai  reluctance  surely  will  be  encour- 
aged l>\  all  the  people  in  both  par- 
ties who  dislike  oi  clisiiust  Mr. 
Nixon,  and  bv  the  other  members  ol 
the  governing  council  who  naturally 
are  nol  eagei  to  yield  him  then 
places. 

Moreover  i li is  scheme  raises  a  ma- 
joi  constitutional  question.  Can  the 
Presidenl  legall)  delegate  his  ulti- 
mate authority?  There  is.  ol  course, 
no  precedent  on  iliis  point,  but  a 
number  ol  constitutional  lawyers  be- 
lieve ih. ii  so  Ions;  as  he  retains  the 
title  ol  ollu  e,  the  dual  responsibility 
loi  executive  action  falls  on  him. 
How,  then,  can  he  give  genuine 
power  to  someone  else,  howevei 
trusted?  And  il  Mr.  Nixon  tried  to 
exercise  this  power,  could  lie  make 
his  dec  isions  stic  k? 

l'oi  example,  people  (  lose  to  Mr. 
Nixon  believe  thai  il  he  were  to  suc- 
ceed to  the  While  House  one  ol  his 
In  si  acts  would  be  to  fire  Dulles  and 
Benson.  Could  he  get  away  with  this 
as  Deputy  President?  Wouldn't  both 
cabinet  officers  appeal  over  his  head 
to  Mr.  Eisenhower— who,  alter  all, 
appointed  them  and  would  legally 
remain  their  only  boss?  On  the  other 
hand,  if  Mr.  Nixon  did  not  feel  free 
to  pick  his  own  help,  how  could  he 
be  expected  to  keep  the  stoic? 

AGAIN,  suppose  that  the 
Deputy  President  should  de- 
cide at  some  point  that  ballistic  mis- 
siles were  making  the  Strategic  Air 
Force  obsolete,  and  that  its  appropri- 
ations should  be  sharph  cut.  Can 
anybody  imagine  General  Curtis  Le- 
May— or  the  aircraft  industry,  and  its 
powerful  Congressional  allies— ac- 
cepting that  decision  from  anybody 
but  Mi.  Eisenhower  himself?  (In 
fact,  I  hey  probably  wouldn't  accept 
it  from  him  either,  without  a  ruckus 
which  would  shake  Washington  from 
the  Pentagon  to  the  Burning  Tree 
Country  Club.)  And  could  the  old 
soldier  bear  to  keep  his  hands  off 
such  a  decision— knowing  that  the 
very  life  of  the  nation  might  depend 
on  it? 


So  it  seems  all  too  likely  that  Gov- 
ernment l>\  Deput)  would  requires 
superhuman  degree  ol  sell-abnega- 
tion from  a  lot  ol  very  human  char- 
acters. Even  so,  ii  would  take  vears 
ol  friction,  experiment,  and  heart- 
break  to  gel  the  new  system  shaken 
down  into  working  order.  During 
(hat  period  the  stiain  on  Mr.  Eisen- 
hower verj  possibly  would  be  greater 
than  it  is  today. 

I  he  onl\   kind  ol  delegation  that 
seems   really    feasible,    therefore,    is 

prett)  minor.  The  President  might 
turn  ovei  to  Mi.  Nixon  a  lew  more 
ceremonial  functions -meeting  visit- 
ing kin^s  at  the  airport,  greeting 
(.ill  Scout  conventions,  presiding  at 
slate  dinners,  and  the  like.  He  might 
depend  on  him  a  little  more  lor  liai- 
son with  Congress,  and  lor  repair 
and  managemenl  ol  the  Republican 
party  machine;  but  that  is  about  all. 
While  this  would  help,  in  a  small 
way,  ii  could  by  no  means  remedy 
the  dangerous  weaknesses  of  the 
presenl  situation. 

TI I  E   only    thing    that   can,   ap- 
parently,  is  for  Mr.  Nixon  to 
lake  lull  title  to  the  Presidency. 

Like  a  considerable  number  of 
other  people,  1  have  always  been 
able  to  keep  my  enthusiasm  for  Mr. 
Nixon  within  bounds.  I  can  think  of 
a  dozen  other  men  I  would  rather  see 
in  the  White  House.  But  that  is 
irrelevant.  Mr.  Nixon  is  the  only 
man  who  can,  constitutionally,  take 
ovei  the  job.  During  the  last  three 
years  he  has  given  every  evidence  of 
training  lor  it  conscientiously;  and— 
lor  the  reasons  mentioned  by  Wil- 
liam S.  White  in  the  January  issue 
ol  I larper's—he  might  well  prove  to 
be  an  abler  executive  than  many 
people  now  suspect. 

In  any  case,  he  would  be  a  stronger 
executive  than  Mr.  Eisenhower  can 
ever  be  again.  He  could  work  full 
time.  He  would  at  least  give  us 
somebody  in  lull  charge  of  the  gov- 
ernment. 

And  today,  of  all  times,  this  coun- 
try needs  somebody  in  charge.  A 
leaky  ship  in  a  hurricane,  with  a 
committee  on  the  bridge  and  a 
crippled  captain  sending  occasional 
whispers  up  the  speaking  tube  from 
the  sick  bay,  might  stay  afloat.  But 
its  chances  would  be  a  lot  better  if 
the  First  Mate— any  First  Mate— took 
the  wheel. 


"Ahm  (9vi^  air  tkcsc  l&eautiLdL  &(njk&  TR££: 


WITH    MEMBERSHIP    IN 


THE  SEVEN  ARTS  BOOK  SOCIETY 


BEN  SHAHN,  His  Graphic  Art. 

By  James  Thrall  Soby.  More  than  100 
reproductions,  8  pages  in  full-color, 
Bibliography,  four-color  jacket,  144  pages 
8V2"  x  11".  The  first  book  devoted 
exclusively  to  the  drawings 
and  graphic  art  of  this  great 
American  artist.  List  Price 
$10.00.  Members'  Price  $7.50. 

THE  MOVIES.  By  Richard 
Griffith  and  Arthur  Mayer  in 
cooperation  with  the  Museum 
of  Modern  Art.  456  Pages, 
over  1500  photographs, 
9"  x  12".  A  huge  enthralling 
pictorial  history  of  the  movies 
from  pre-Nickelodeon  days 
to  Cinerama.  List  Price 
$15.00.  Members'  Price  $11.50. 

A  TESTAMENT.  By  Frank  Lloyd 
Wright.  9'/2"  x  I2V2",  210  illus. 
The  first  book  in  ten  years  by 
the  world's  most  noted  architect. 
Spanning  nearly  seven  decades 
of  creative  activity,  this  work 
stands  as  Wright's  legacy  to  his 
age.  List  Price  $12.50. 
Members'  Price  $9.50. 

PABLO  PICASSO.  By  Wilhelm 
Boeck  and  Jaime  Sabartes. 
524  pp.,  606  reproductions, 
44  in  color,  12"  x  8V2".  A 
monumental  study  of  Picasso, 
the  man  and  his  art.  List  Price 
$17.50.  Members'  Price  $13.50. 

THE  EXPRESSIONISTS.  Text 
by  Carl  Zigrosser.  130  repro- 
ductions, 8  in  full-color; 
144  pages,  8V2"  x  11" .  The 
graphic  art  of  one  of  the  most 
exciting  and  influential  art 
movements  of  the  twentieth 
century.  List  Price  $10.00. 
Members'  Price  $7.50. 

MASTERWORKS  OF 
JAPANESE  ART.  Edited  by 
Charles  S.  Terry.  100  jull-pag, 
plates,  40  in  full  color;  35  text     1 
ills.,  264  pp.,  8W  x  12". 
A  magnificent  presentation  of 
the  entire  heritage  of  Japanese 
art-painting,  sculpture, 
ceramics,  textiles,  lacquer 
ware,  metalwork,  prints,  and 
architecture.  List  Price 
$15.00.  Members'  Price  $12.50. 

GAUGUIN.  Text  by  Robert 
Goldwater.  48  oil  paintings  and 
15  woodblocks  in  large  full-color, 
158  pages,  93A"  x  123A".  An  un- 
paralleled showing  of  Gauguin's 
work  in  all  its  dazzling  range 
and  fascination.  List  Price 
$15.00.  Members'  Price  $12.50. 

ARCHITECTURE  AS  SPACE. 
By  Bruno  Zevi.  186 
photographs,  drawings,  and 
plans,  288  pages,  8'A"  x  10'A" 
A  book  which  literally  shows 
us  how  to  look  at  architecture. 
List  price  $7.50. 
Members'  Price  $5.50. 

THE  ART  AND  TECHNIQUE 
OF  COLOR  PHOTOGRAPHY. 

Edited  by  Alexander 
Liberman.  Introduction  by 
Aline  Louchheim.  225  pages, 
195  full-color  plates, 
10"  x  13".  List  Price  $10.00. 
Members'  Price  $6.95. 

A  TREASURY  OF  THE  THEATRE. 

Edited  by  John  Gassner. 

3  Volumes,  handsomely  boxed. 

Each  volume  measures  10"  x  7¥u". 

More  than  1800  pages.  World  Drama 

from  Aeschylus  to  Arthur  Miller. 

The  comDlete  text  and  artistic 

significance  of  each  play  in  its  social 

and  biographical  background. 

List  price  $22.50.  Members'  Price  $14.95. 


. . .  Bring  the  Arts  into  Your  Home 

Now  is  the  time  to  fill  your  home  with  the  finest  of  all  books  on 

the  arts.  The  Seven  Arts  Book  Society  offers  you  the 

unique  opportunity  to  enjoy  in  your  home  great  artistic  contributions, 

brilliantly  reproduced  with  the  finest  materials  available. 

Now  you  can  own  magnificently  illustrated  volumes  like  those 

shown  and  described  here,  each  one  a  testament  to  the  vitality  of  the 

human  imagination.  And  they  can  be  had  at 

substantial  savings,  made  possible  by  Society  membership. 

We  invite  you  to  choose  any  two  of  these 
beautiful  books,  one  as  your  FREE 
MEMBERSHIP  GIFT,  the  second  as  your 
first  selection.  In  addition,  each  month  you  will 
receive  without  charge,   The  Seven  Arts  News, 
featuring  an  illustrated  preview  of  the 
forthcoming  selection.  We  are  certain  that  the 
books  you  choose  to  receive  will  hold  a 
prominent  place  in  your  library  and 
be  a  source  of  pride  and  enjoyment 
for  you  and  your  family. 


t  O  r  D    WRIGHT 


fluBuBBBiJs     EB 


COLOR 


P  H  OTO 

GRAPHY 


CI 


.,.._ 


MAIL  THIS  COUPON  TODAY ! 


THE  SEVEN  ARTS  BOOK  SOCIETY 

215  Fourth  Avenue,  New  York  3,  N.  Y. 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  member.  Send  me  the 
FREE  GIFT  and  first  selection  (at  the  special  mem- 
bership price  plus  postage  and  handling)  which  I 
have  indicated  at  the  right. 

I  am  also  to  receive  without  charge  the  monthly 
bulletin,  The  Seven  Arts  News.  I  may  choose  either 
to  receive,  reject,  or  substitute  for  each  monthly 
selection  by  returning  a  conveniently  provided 
form.  I  may  select  as  few  as  4  books  out  of  the 
more  than  100  titles  offered  during  the  course  of  a 
year.  1  may  resign  membership  at  any  time  after 
buying  my  fourth  book. 


FREE   GIFT 

FIRST  SELECTION 

Name 

Street _ 

City „ „ Zone State 


H-2S 


xEjIiSOINAlj  and  otherwise 


Among  Our  Contributors 


BOUND   FOR   THE 
ETERNAL    SHOWERS? 

PERHAPS  the  chief  thing 
Marl  in  Mayei  is  trying  to  do  in 
his  article  on  "What  Is  Advertising 
Good  For?"  (p.  25)  is  to  encourage 

advertising  men  to  respect  their 
work.  II  lie  suit  reds  he  may  reduce 
the  ulcer  count  on  Madison  Avenue, 
but  humane  as  this  result  would  be, 
it  does  not  seem  to  us  the  main  value 
of  Mr.  Mayer's  bracing  logic.  Re- 
spect for  a  medium— whether  it  is 
words  or  pictures  or  rocket  fuel— is 
even  more  important.  An  art  or  a 
craft  has  its  inner  goals  and  laws 
and,  in  an  aesthetic  sense,  requires 
no  other  justification.  Commercially 
speaking,  of  course,  there  is  always 
the  sponsor;  but  the  authority  of  the 
medium  itself  should  exercise  ulti- 
mate control  over  the  adman,  as  it 
does  over  the  poet  or  painter  or  sci- 
entist. In  the  long  run,  it  will  get 
him  farther  than  merely  catering  to 
the  customer. 

A  novel  expression  of  respect  for 
his  profession— without  self-ballyhoo 
—was  recently  demonstrated  by  an 
insider,  John  P.  Cunningham,  presi- 
dent of  a  prominent  advertising 
agency,  speaking  to  his  colleagues  in 
the  Association  of  National  Adver- 
tisers. He  began  by  admitting  that 
television— a  "thrilling  new  adver- 
tising tool"— is  suffering  under  a 
crescendo  of  criticism  for  the  "creep- 
ing mediocrity"  of  its  programing; 
and  that  advertising  was  a  respon- 
sible party  together  with  the  net- 
works. 

On  the  basis  of  depth  interviews 
with  TV  watchers,  Cunningham  and 
Walsh  had  measured  the  Boredom 
Factor  in  ten  well-known  programs, 
from  "I  Remember  Mama"  (which 
scaled  lowest,  11)  to  "Arthur  God- 
frey" (which  scaled  highest,  47). 
While  a  low  Boredom  Factor  doesn't 
mean  that  a  show  is  necessarily  a 
good  buy,  or  a  high  Boredom  Factor 
the  reverse,  nevertheless,  Mr.  Cun- 
ningham said,  it  "causes  dial-twitch- 
ing,   vacant-minded    viewing,    lower 


ratings,  and,  as  l.n  as  TV  advei  tising 
is  concerned,  less  penetration-per- 
skull-per-dollai ." 

Imitation,  Mr.  Cunningham 
added,  compounds  the  boredom. 
The  massive  waxes  of  imitation  to- 
da)  are  qui/  shows,  singing  emcees, 
and  "adult"  westerns— with  quiz 
shows,  loi  example,  propagating  like 
amoebas,  so  that  there  are  actually 
lil  such  programs  on  TV  even  week. 
\s  lot   westerns,  he  commented: 

"I'm  brash  enough  to  say  that  any- 
body who  Inns  another  western,  un- 
less it  is  a  marked  creative  departure 
from  the  pattern  (as  'The  $64,000 
Question'  was  in  the  qui/  field  two 
years  ago)  ought  to  turn  in  his  gray 
flannel  suit  and  go  to  the  eternal 
showei  s." 

Along  with  the  increase  of  bore- 
dom in  the  past  five  years  has  gone  a 
general  depression  of  audience  rat- 
ings for  top  shows  (the  top  five  had 
ratings  of  57.9  in  1952  and  only  41.5 
in  1957).  However,  since  the  total 
audience  is  larger  today,  there  are 
more  people  watching  even  the 
lower-rated  shows  than  used  to  watch 
the  higher-rated  ones;  the  audience 
is  more  divided;  and  there  is  greater 
opportunity  for  exceptional  pro- 
graming. 

"Now  what  does  all  this  amount 
to?"  Mr.  Cunningham  asked.  "How 
much  should  we  be  concerned? 

"Our  primary  obligation  is  to  the 
sales  curves  of  our  companies,  of 
course. 

"But  it  is  much  too  easy  to  say— 
'I  buy  by  ratings,'  or,  'Give  the  peo- 
ple what  they  want— I'll  buy  it.' 

"I  maintain  that  our  obligation  to 
TV  goes  much,  much  deeper  than 
that. 

"As  advertising  men,  we  must  be 
interested  in  all  TV— not  only  in  our 
own  programs.  We  want  it  to  be  a 
strong,  well-rounded  medium.  .  .  . 
Even  the  most  ardent  devotees  have 
an  obligation  to  their  companies  to 
look  around  and  beyond  the  rat- 
ings.  ... 

"Unlike  any  magazine,  TV  with 
its  limited  channels  must  deal  largely 
in    things   of   mass   interest.    But    it 


must  certainly  not   try   to  reach  all 
the  people— all  the  time.  .  .  . 

"Now  a  man  cm  sii  by  his  own 
lie. ii  ill  and  look  around  the  curve  of 
the  earth.  He  can  peer  into  the  par- 
liament of  nations.  He  can  see  his 
own  desiinx  being  shaped.  His  own 
soul  being  saved.  .  .  . 

"We  liuisi  never  forget  that  the 
airwaves  do  not  belong  to  the  ad-l 
vertisers— nor  to  the  networks— nor 
to  the  FCC— nor  to  the  federal  gov- 
ei  nment. 

"They  belong  to  the  people  of  the' 
United  States." 

.  .  .  Martin  Mayer,  who  is  not  an  in- 
sider in  advertising,  has  just  com- 
pleted a  remarkably  informed  book 
about  it  which  will  be  published  in  I 
March:  Madison  Avenue,  U.  S.  A. 
His  article  is  adapted  from  the  book. 
He  is  the  author  also  of  Wall  Street: 
Men  and  Money  and  of  a  novel! 
about  politics,   The  Experts. 

.  .  .  Undoubtedly  the  Animal  of  the 
Year  in  1957  was  the  small,  tough, 
curly-tailed  hunting  dog  which  cir- 
cled the  Earth  in  Sputnik  II  during 
November  and  made  the  name 
"Laika"  world-renowned.  Whatever 
specific  facts  Soviet  scientists  may 
have  learned  from  Laika's  heroic 
last  days,  she  certainly  demonstrated 
Arthur  C.  Clarke's  thesis  in  "Our 
Dumb  Colleagues"  (p.  32)— that  ani- 
mals can  play  a  role  in  the  future  as 
co-workers  with  men. 

We  recently  watched  a  white- 
coated  technician  operating  a  "scin- 
tillator" in  the  radioisotopes  labora- 
tory of  a  city  hospital.  The  big 
gray-clad  machine  clacked  away, 
moving  its  arm  with  grave  precision 
and  chattering  in  spurts  as  it  picked 
up  signals  from  the  patient  on  the 
table.  Unlike  the  machine,  which  was 
rooted  to  its  spot,  the  human  tender 
was  all  over  the  place,  figuring, 
watching,  writing,  kneeling,  stretch- 
ing, rushing  about  to  check  patient 
and  machine  from  above  and  below 
and  all  sides.  During  the  ten  min- 
utes of  the  test,  he  was  as  active  as  an 
ape  in  a  tree;  and  we  wondered 
whether  a  strong,  dexterous,  intelli- 
gent  chimpanzee  couldn't  have  been 
trained  to  do  the  job. 

Arthur  Clarke,  friend  and  tender 
of  Elizabeth  the  Chimpanzee,  is  a 
scientist,  former  RAF  radar  expert, 
present  sea-reef  explorer  and  photog- 
rapher,   who    writes    books    during 


START  YOUR  CHILD  ON  THIS  SENSIBLE  PLAN ...  designed  to  instill  a  lifetime  love  of  good 

BOOKS  AND  ASSIST  HIM— WITHOUT  PRESSURE— IN  HIS  SCHOOL  WORK 


iven 

WITH  A  FOUR-MONTH  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  TO 

Young  Readers  of  America 

THE  RAND  MCNALLY 
"WORLD-MASTER"  GLOBE 

and 

FUNK  &  WAGNALLS 
JUNIOR  DICTIONARY 


*  the  PLAN  •  Young  Read- 
ers of  America  was  organ- 
ized by  the  Book-of-the- 
Month  Club  to  encourage 
among  children  a  lasting  affection  for 
worth-while  reading.  It  is  built  around  a 
group  of  quite  remarkable  books  about 
history  —  Landmark  Books  —  which  "have 
fired  the  imagination  and  held  the  atten- 
tion of  tens  of  thousands  of  young  people" 
(N.  Y.  Times).  They  are  written  by  out- 
standing contemporary  authors,  most  of 
whom  made  their  reputations  in  the  field 
of  serious  adult  writing— authors  like  John 
Gunther,  Pearl  Buck,  Thomas  B.  Costain, 
Dorothy  Canfield  Fisher,  John  Mason 
Brown,  Quentin  Reynolds  and  many 
others. 

*  CHILDREN  WHO  LOVE  TO  READ  ALMOST 
ALWAYS  DO  BETTER  IN  SCHOOL  •  Besides 
the  immediate  pleasure  each  book  pro- 
vides, this  plan  instills  in  your  child  a  nat- 
ural love  of  books.  As  his  collection  grows, 
each  book  helps  him  to  enjoy  his  own 
sense  of  "discovery",  not  influenced  by 
you.  And,  as  most  educators  will  point 


out,  children  who  learn  to  love  books  in 
this  manner  usually  make  the  best  and 
most  interested  students. 

*   A    FOUR-MONTH    TRIAL   SUBSCRIPTION    is 

suggested  if  you  wish  to  see  how  your 
own  young  reader  responds  to  the  idea 
over  a  short  period. 
To  excite  and  in- 
spire him  immedi- 
ately, he  will  re- 
ceive, free,  the  en- 
rollment gifts  pic- 
tured. With  them 
he  will  receive  the 
Landmark  Book 
you  select  from  the 
four  listed  at  right, 
as  the  first  pur- 
chase. At  the  end  of 
the  trial  subscrip- 
tion, if  you  do  not 
feel  the  plan  is  suc- 
ceeding with  your 
child,  you  are  free 
to  cancel  the  mem- 
bership at  any  time. 


•  THE  SYSTEM  IS  SIMPLE  •  Each  month 
your  child  will  receive  a  Landmark  Book 
addressed  to  him  personally,  always  an 
exciting  moment  in  any  home.  The  special 
price  to  members,  lower  than  the  regular 
retail  price,  is  only  $1.75  each,  plus  a 
small  charge   for  postage   and  handling. 


Young  Readers  of  America 

A  BRANCH  OF  BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB,  INC. 


BEGIN    THE   TRIAL   SUBSCRIPTION    WITH   ONE   OF   THESE 


WILD   BILL 
HICKOK 

by  Stewart 
Hnlbrook 

ALEXANDER 
THE  GREAT 

by  John 


THE   STORY  OF 

THE   SECRET 

SERVICE 

by  Ferdinand 
Kuhn 


MARIE 
ANTOINETTE 

by  Bernardine 
Kielty 


Book-of-the-Month  Club,   Inc.,  345  Hudson  Street,  New  York  14,  N.  Y,   13-2 
YOUNG   READERS  OF  AMERICA*  Branch 

Please  enroll  the  child  named  below  in  a  four-month  trial  subscrip- 
tion to  Young  Readers  of  America  and  send  him  free  the  Rand 
McNally  "World-Master"  Globe  and  Funk  and  Wagnalls 
Standard  Junior  Dictionary  with  the  purchase  of  the  first  Landmark 
Book  indicated  below.  Also  send  the  50  bookplates,  free.  You  are  to 
send  the  child  one  Landmark  Book  each  month  and  bill  me  at  $1.75 
(plus  a  few  cents  postage)  for  each  book.  I  may  cancel  the  membership 
at  any  time  after  buying  four  books  for  the  child. 
As  the  child's  first  book,  please  send 

IChoose  one  of  the  bonks  pictured  above) 
Information   requested   on   this   order   should   be   filled   in   by  parent  or 


donor— PLEASE   PRINT 


SEND 
BOOKS  TO 


Street  _ 


NAME  OF  CHILD 


City 

Mr 

ORDERED  BY  Mrs 
Miss 

Street 


City, 


_Zone_ 


_State 


,\ 


NAME  OF  PARENT  OR  DONOR 


_Zone_ 


_State_ 


NOTE:  A  subscription  makes  an  excellent  birthday  gift 


"Trademark  of  Book-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc. 


22 


NEW    DISCOVERIES 

About   the   Birth.   Life,   and  Death 
of  the  Sim  and  Other  Stars 

\  noted  science  writer  gives  the 
first  comprehensive  report  on  the 
surprising  findings  which  arc  com- 
ing from  the  200-inch  Palomar 
telescope,  radio  telescopes,  and 
other  new  tools  for  exploring  our 
I  niverse. 

By  George  W .  Gray 

MONTANA: 

The  Frontier  Went  Thataway 

\n  Englishman's  love  letter 
ahout  a  way  of  life  which  he  found 
""near  perfection" — and  his  fore- 
cast about  a  state  which  "is  shaping 
for  a  leap  in  the  dark. 

By  Herbert  Howarth 

THE  DIALOGUE 

Of  Freud  and  Jung 

The  most  famous  feud  in  the  his- 
tory of  psychoanalysis  may  pro- 
duce some  unexpectedly  useful  re- 
sults— if  the  partisans  are  ever 
willing  to  admit  that  each  of  their 
great  leaders  was  dealing  with  only 
one  side  of  the  human  mind. 

By  Gerald  Sykes 

THE  BUDAPESTS 

An  intimate  portrait  of  the  quar- 
tet which  admits  it  is  the  world's 
greatest. 

By  Martin  Mayer 


Harper's 

-*-        magazine 


NEXT     MON  TH 


PERSONAL     &     OTHERWISE 


and  between  nips  to  Ceylon,  the 
U.S.A.,  and  other  points  remote 
from  England  his  home.  Besides  ten 
hooks  ol  science  fiction,  he  lias  writ- 
ten  volumes  foi  the  layman  on  Inter- 
planetary Flight,  The  Exploration 
o)  Space,  and.  lasi  year,  The  Reefs 
o]  Taprobane  and  The  Making  of  a 
Moon. 

loi  1958  he  has  scheduled  The 
Othei  Side  <>/  the  Sky,  short  stories, 
and  Voice  Across  the  Sea,  about 
transoceanic  communications. 

.  .  .  George  F.  Kennan  (author  ol  "A 
Chance  to  Withdraw  Out  I  roops  in 
Europe,"  p.  34)  was  U.S.  Ambassa- 
dor to  Moscow  at  the  time  of  the 
Insi  Eisenhowei  Presidential  cam- 
paign; and  his  much  discussed  sum 
ming  up  ol  American  policy  toward 
Russia  as  "containment"  became  a 
centra]  target  ol  Republican  attack. 
1  hough  he  has  been  in  so-called  "re- 
tirement" since  1953,  Mr.  Kennan 
has  established  himself,  through  lec- 

I  m  i  s    and    artic  Irs.    as    perhaps    our 

most  influential  "Minority  Diplo- 
mat" as  the  New  York  Times  called 
him  wlun  he  delivered  the  lectures 
ovei  the  BBC  that  are  the  basis  foi 
his  arti<  les  in  this  issue  and  the  next. 

He  has  also  made  headlines  as  an 
historian,  possibly  a  rarer  feat.  When 
he  resigned  from  government  service 
he  went  to  the  Institute  for  Ad- 
vanced Stud)  at  Princeton  to  work 
on  a  history  of  Russia  from  1917 
io  1920.  The  first  volume,  Russia 
Leaves  the  War,  won  the  National 
book  Award  lor  1956,  the  Bancroft 
Prize,  and  the  Pulitzer  Prize.  His  ar- 
ticle, "Overdue  Changes  in  Our  For- 
eign Policy,"  in  the  August  1956 
issue  of  Harper's  won  a  benjamin 
Franklin    Magazine   Award. 

Mr.  Kennan  has  been  Visiting 
Eastman  Professor  of  American  His- 
ioi\  ai  Oxford  during  this  academic 
year.  His  complete  BBC  lectures  (the 
Reith  Series)  will  be  published  here 
March  third,  with  the  title,  Russia, 
the  Atom  and  the   West. 

.  .  .  The  American  movie  audience 
continues  to  decline— figures  gath- 
ered by  Sindlinger  showed  a  28.4 
per  cent  slump  in  1957  below  1956. 
This  is  a  recognized  long-time  trend, 
most  often  attributed  to  television; 
but  there  is  an  inconsistency  in  audi- 
ence interest  that  baffles  both  movie- 
makers   and    trend-takers. 


One  possible  clue  to  the  mystery— 
from  the  point  ol  view  of  the  busi- 
nessmen  behind  the  producers— may 
be  found  in  the  story  of  "What  Two 
Lawyers  Are  Doing  to  Hollywood" 
(p.   12)  In  Murrav  Teigh  Bloom. 

Mi.  Bloom  has  written  several 
hundred  magazine  articles  and  a 
book  about  counterfeiters  called 
Money  of  Their  Own.  His  article  on 
the  "World's  Greatest  Counterfeit- 
ers," which  appealed  in  Harper's 
lafet  July,  will  be  televised  this  year 
bv  Studio  One. 

.  .  .  John  W.  Gardner,  humanist  and 
executive,  a  parent  and  an  authority 
on  national  problems  of  education, 
suggests  some  answers  to  the  vexa- 
tious family  question  ol  "How  to 
Choose  a  College,  If  Any"  (p.  I!)).  As 
president  ol  the  Carnegie  Corpora- 
tion of  \.  Y.  and  of  the  Carnegie 
Foundation  for  the  Advancement  of 
Teaching,  Mr.  Gardnei  watches  over 
main  experimental  programs  for 
training  talented  youth. 

Mr.  Gardner's  connection  with  the 
problem  of  What  College,  II  Any  is 
close:  he  has  one  daughter  in  her  sec- 
ond year  at  Radcliffe,  and  another 
facing  tin  college  decision  this 
spring.  si\  years  ago  when  Francesca, 
the  younger,  entered  S<  arsdale  junior 
high,  he  asked  her  what  she  liked 
best  in  school. 

"I  don't  know  what  I  like  the 
very  best,"  she  said,  "but,  Daddy,  I 
do  love  those  fire  drills!" 

Now  an  outstanding  student, 
Francesca  commented  on  her  father's 
article,  "It's  great,  Dad,  but  if  I 
hadn't  been  so  indecisive  would  you 
ever  have  thought  it  out  so  clearly?" 

.  .  .  "An  Old  Boy  Who  Made  Vio- 
lins" (p.  55)  is  Ben  Maddow's  second 
story  in  Harper's.  He  wrote  44 
Gravel  Sheet,  a  novel,  a  film  portrait 
of  Los  Angeles  called  "The  Savage 
Eye,"    and    many   published    poems. 

.  .  .  "Hospitals  Found  in  Germ  Dan- 
ger—Resistance to  Antibiotics  is 
Cited  by  Surgeons  for  World-wide 
Epidemic."  Thus  the  New  York 
Times  headlined  a  report  on  discus- 
sions by  a  panel  of  doctors  at  the 
American  College  of  Surgeons  meet- 
ing in  Atlantic  City  last  fall.  Such 
newspaper  publicity  was  bound  to 
arouse  a  good  deal  of  uninformed 
speculation.     Dr.    Vernon    Knight's 


23 


P     &     O 

"Antibiotics:  Too  Much  of  a  Good 
Thing?"  (p.  60)  gives  perspective  on 
this  kind  of  news. 

Dr.  Knight  is  associate  professor 
of  medicine  at  the  Vanderbilt  Uni- 
versity Medical  School  and  director 
of  the  George  Hunter  Laboratory  for 
Study  of  Infectious  Diseases.  He  had 
his  medical  training  at  Harvard 
Medical  School  and  at  New  York 
Hospital-Cornell  Medical  Center, 
and  served  in  the  Normandy  inva- 
sion. From  1950  to  1954  he  was  direc- 
tor of  the  Laboratory  of  Infectious 
Disease  at  the  Cornell  Medical  Divi- 
sion of  Bellevue  Hospital. 

.  .  .  Clots  of  rural  newcomers  in  some 
industrial  cities  of  the  Midwest  have 
become  a  community  problem,  as 
Albert  N.  Votaw  shows  in  "The  Hill- 
billies Invade  Chicago"  (p.  64),  but 
there  are  techniques  of  getting  at  it 
—given  time  and  the  will.  Mr.  Votaw 
is  executive  director  of  the  Uptown 
Chicago  Commission,  the  private 
community  group  which  has  done 
most  of  the  work  so  far  in  his  city. 

Formerly,  Mr.  Votaw  served  at  the 
Marshall  Plan  headquarters  in  Paris; 
he  was  a  newspaperman  and  foun- 
dation director  in  Chicago,  and  took 
an  M.A.  degree  at  the  University  of 
Chicago. 

.  .  .  "The  Voyage  of  the  Lucky 
Dragon"  (p.  72),  which  concludes 
this  month,  is  adapted  from  the  book 
by  Dr.  Ralph  E.  Lapp,  to  be  pub- 
lished in  February.  Dr.  Lapp  is  a 
nuclear  physicist  who  worked  on  the 
Manhattan  Project  and  headed  the 
government's  scientific  group  at  the 
Bikini  A-bomb  tests  of  1946.  He  is 
now  director  of  Nuclear  Science 
Service  in  Washington.  His  investi- 
gations for  his  report  on  the  fate  of 
the  fishermen  of  the  Lucky  Dragon 
took  him  to  Japan  and  made  him 
friends  there  of  scientists,  reporters, 
and  the  crew  themselves.  He  is  the 
author  of  Atoms  and  People. 

.  .  .  The  poems  this  month  are  light 
and  free.  "Florence:  At  the  Villa 
Jernyngham"  (p.  68)  is  from  a  new 
volume  by  Sir  Osbert  Sitwell,  to  be 
published  in  England  under  the 
title,  On  the  Continent. 

"And  I  say  the  Hell  with  It"  (p. 
54)  is  by  Philene  Hammer  of  St. 
Louis,  who  has  founded  and  directed 
theaters  for  children. 


More  than  1,500  laugh-provoking  stories 
to  brighten  your  speeches,  dramatize  your 
ideas,  and  make  your  friends  laugh  .  .  . 

THE  SPEAKER'S  HMDB00K 
DF  HUMOR 

How  to  Tell,  Select  and  Create 
Funny    Stories    for   Every   Occasion 

By  MAXWELL  DROKE 

•  Let  Maxwell  Droke,  an  "old  pro"— in  experience— show  you  the 
finer  points  of  telling  a  funny  story,  and  put  in  your  hands  a  rib- 
tickling  treasury  of  more  than  1500  sure-fire  stories  classified  under 
59  helpful  headings. 


Here's    some   of  the 
expert  advice  Maxwell 
Droke   gives   you : 

•  How    to     Introduce     a     Story 
Casually. 

•  How    to    Polish    and    Person- 
alize   a    Story. 

•  How  to  Build  Up  the  Laughs. 

•  How     to     Deliver     the     Final 
Punch    Line. 

•  How    to    Determine    Whether 
a    Story    is   Worth    Telling. 

•  How  to  Choose  the  Most  Ap- 
propriate   Story. 

•  How    to    Adapt    a    Story    to 
Suit   a   Special   Occasion. 

•  How    to    Bring    Old    Favorites 
Up   to    Date. 

•  How    to    Create    New    Jokes 
from  Current  News  Items. 

AND 

1451  separate  and  numbered 
stories  (not  including  over  100 
more  in  the  text)  classified  for 
instant  reference  according  to 
subject.  Separate  Story-Topic 
index  and  Celebrities-Involved 
index. 

464   big,   clearly 
printed    pages. 


THE  SPEAKER'S  HANDBOOK  OF  HU- 
MOR is  a  double-barreled  book.  Maxwell 
Droke  packs  the  first  barrel  with  expert,  in- 
side, "how  to"  hints  that  public  speakers 
have  been  praying  for.  He  shows  you  How 
to  Select  Your  Funny  Stories,  How  to  Adapt 
Your  Stories  to  a  Special  Occasion,  How  to 
Make  Up  Your  Own  Stories.  What  Stories 
You  Shouldn't  Tell— and  Why.  How  to  Build 
Up  Your  Stories,  How  to  Deliver  the  Punch 
Line  with  the  greatest  effect,  and  many  more 
tested  suggestions  that  will  help  brighten 
your  way  as  a  speaker,  and  that  of  your 
listeners,  too. 

FIND  THE  RIGHT  STORY  IN  A  FLASH! 

The  second  barrel  of  THE  SPEAKER'S 
HANDBOOK  OF  HUMOR  is  the  real  payoff! 
1451  funny  stories — not  including  more  than 
100  "examples"  told  by  Maxwell  Droke  in  the 
first  "how  to"  part  of  THE  SPEAKER'S 
HANDBOOK  OF  HUMOR.  These  1451  sto- 
ries are  expertly  classified  under  59  headings, 
suitable  for  every  type  of  audience  and  every 
occasion.  Suppose  you  want  to  tell  a  story 
about  Politicians.  Simply  turn  to  the  detailed 
index  and  you'll  find  the  just-right  story 
you  need  indicated  by  number.  The  same 
goes  for  Animals,  English  Stories,  Preachers, 
Sports,  Salesmanship,  the  Battle  of  the  Sexes, 
Women,  Children.  Whatever  your  need, 
here  it  is  at  your  finger  tips.  And  the  stories 
are  all  fresh,  bright,  in  good  taste,  told  with 
a   professional   touch. 

A   GOLD-MINE   OF  PROFESSIONAL  TIPS 

THE  SPEAKER'S  HANDBOOK  OF  HU- 
MOR is  a  gold-mine  of  valuable  advice  and 
suggestions  for  anyone  who  speaks  in  public 
before  gatherings  of  all  kinds,  large  or  small. 
And  for  everybody,  the  speaker  as  well  as 
the  general  reader,  it's  a  side-splitting  treas- 
use-house  of  laughter.  For  your  increased 
success  as  a  speaker  and  for  hours  of  good 
fun,    order   your    copy   NOW! 


-Ten  Days'   FREE  Examination -- 


HARPER  &   BROTHERS, 
51    East    33rd    St.,    N.    Y.    16 

Gentlemen:  Please  send  me 
THE  SPEAKER'S  HAND- 
BOOK OF  HUMOR  for  ten 
days'  free  examination.  With- 
in that  time  I  will  remit  $4.95 
plus  a  few  cents  mailing 
.charges,  or  return  the  book 
postpaid. 


Name     . 
Address 
City    .  .  . 
State    .  . 


3913E 


The  moment  you 


KNOW 


•  /*  f  ',  t 


There  are  some  things, sonic  major  and  wonder 
i ill  things,  1 1 i.i i  we  may  Know  in  one  moment : 

I.;  1 1  .1  boy? 

Is  it  a  girl? 

I  )kI  I  win  ( he  scholarship? 

bid  l  gel  the  job? 

Bui  i  great  manj  other  major  and  wonderful 
things  take  years  of  following  and  caring.  With 
them,  it's  not  just  one  moment,  but  the  entire 
process  of  knowing  thai  is  great. 

Such  things  as  a  nation's  historj ,  or  a  world's, 

as   man's   lij'.lil    a;',ainsl    polio   and    cancer,   as 


new  concepts  of  human  rights  and  new  con 
quests  of  space  and  lime- 
All  these  continue  week   after  week,  and 
many  other  things  all  around  (hem.  big  or 

small,  solemn  or  gay,  all  pari   of  mankind's 

ceaseless  story,  thai  story  we  call,  so  coolly, 
"the  news." 

lis  greatness  varies,  ils  Interest  newer,  and 
(his  may  he  one  reason  thai  more  than  two 
and  a  half  million  families  in  (lie  free  world  are 

year  after  year  readers  of  time, 

Read  TIME— The  Weekly  Newsmagazine 


Harper 

MAGAlIz  I  NE 


WHAT  IS  ADVERTISING 

GOOD  FOR? 


A  suggestion  for  a  new  theory  of  advertising  .  .  .  what  role 
it  really  plays  in  our  society  .  .  .  and  how  to  tell 
whether  it  is  the  hero,  the  villain,  or  merely  a  butler 


MARTIN   MAYER 

Author  of  the  forthcoming  book, 
Madison  Avenue,  U.  S.  A. 


CONSIDERING  the  importance  of  ad- 
vertising—both as  a  part  of  our  cultural 
climate  and  as  a  major  weapon  of  competition— 
the  literature  on  the  subject  is  appallingly  feeble. 
Virtually  everything  intelligent  that  has  been 
written  about  it  in  the  last  forty  years  can  be 
plated  on  one  small  shelf— half-a-dozen  books,  a 
dozen  pamphlets,   perhaps   twenty  speeches. 

This  failure  to  treat  a  serious  subject  seriously 
has  been,  in  part,  inescapable,  because  the  men 
who  know  advertising  best  are  usually  ill-equipped 
to  discuss  it  analytically.  Advertising's  obvious 
function  is  to  sell— which  means  that  its  ablest 
practitioners  must  be  people  with  a  highly- 
developed  bump  of  enthusiasm  and  a  slight 
depression  where  the  critical  instinct  ought 
to  be. 


But  the  frivolity  of  our  customary  approach 
to  advertising  also  stems  from  two  American 
folk  myths.  Although  they  contradict  each  other, 
most  people  manage  to  believe  in  both: 

(1)  They  are  confident  that,  personally,  they 
are  seldom  if  ever  influenced  by  advertising; 
and  (2)  they  believe  that  advertising  is  im- 
mensely powerful  in  molding  the  actions  of  the 
community. 

Neither  myth  bears  much  relation  to  reality, 
but  both  survive,  feeding  on  the  extreme  scarcity 
of  hard  (acts  about  the  actual  effectiveness  of 
advertising  in  the  market  place. 

It  is  virtually  impossible  for  a  company  to  find 
out  with  any  precision  how  much  of  a  recent 
sales  increase  is  due  to  advertising.  In  fact,  it  is 
by  no  means  easy  to  determine  whether  or  not  a 
given  advertising  campaign  is  creating  any  sales 
at  all.  Too  many  hands  play  a  part  in  the  selling 
process.  One  of  the  great  advertising  and  sales 
success  stories  of  1956,  for  example,  was  Procter 
&  Gamble's  Gleem  toothpaste.  Compton  Adver- 
tising touted  it  as  the  substance  of  choice  lor 
those  who  wished  to  avoid  cavities  but  could  not 
brush  their  teeth  after  every  meal.    Meanwhile, 


26 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


door-to-dooi  canvassers  were  on  the  road,  dis- 
tributing a  tree  tube  or  a  coupon  good  foi  a  free 
tube  of  Gleem  to  nearly  ever)  household  in  the 
country.  \m\  the  Procter  fe  Gamble  salesmen, 
backed  by  the  company's  reputation  as  a  very 
tough  outfit,  went  rolling  through  the  nation's 
stores  with  .1  steamroller  of  a  deal  to  convince 
retailers  that  (liey  should  stock  and  prominently 
display  the  new  dentifi  ice. 

Mow  much  credii  for  the  success  of  Gleem 
should  go  to  thi'  advertising?  How  much  more 
(or  less)  Gleem  would  have  been  sold  if  the 
advertising  campaign  had  been  different,  or  if 
more  or  less  money  had  been  spent  on  it?  How 
man)  angels  can  dance  on  the  head  ol  a  pin  on 
which  a  machinisl  has  engraved  the  Lord's 
Prayei  ? 

Another  difficulty  is  thai  the  facts  about  adver- 
tising—even when  the)  can  be  isolated— will  not 
hold  still  long  enough  for  the  theoretician  to 
catch  them.  In  all  the  behavioral  sciences, 
a    valid    insight    is    good    only    lor    the    moment 

CRmtAL 
/N$nMtr 

J* 


.  .  .  Advertising's 
ablest  practitioners 


of  perception,  and  for  an  uncertain  but  prob- 
ably short  lime  afterwards.  And  in  advertising, 
where  the  sands  of  consumer  preference  are  con- 
stantly blown  about  by  the  howling  winds  of 
competition,  it  has  been  extraordinarily  hard  to 
find  a  foundation  for  a  theory  which  will  explain 
what  the  industry  does  and  why. 

By  and  large,  economists  have  ducked  this 
problem.  Business  theorists,  who  must  deal  with 
advertising  somehow,  have  handled  the  subject 
by  determinedly  sweeping  it  under  a  wall-to-wall 
rug  which  they  call  '"marketing."  In  recent  years, 
academicians  hour  the  fields  of  sociology,  cul- 
tural anthropology,  social  psychology,  and  even 
psychoanalysis  have  descended  on  advertising 
with  their  assorted  insights,  bodies  of  theory,  and 
nostrums,  and  have  secured  a  truly  remarkable 
amount  ol  publicity  for  their  efforts.  The  dis- 
ciplines they  practice,  however,  are  notoriously 
unstable,  and  their  work  has  been  aimed  almost 
exclusively  at  finding  something  "useful"  for 
the  advertiser.   With  a  few  exceptions,  their  con- 


tributions  toward  the  understanding  ol  advertis- 
ing have  been  nonexistent,  superficial,  or  mis- 
Leading. 

WHICH     HALF    IS    WASTED? 

ANYONE  attempting  to  grasp  what  ad- 
vertising does  in  our  society  must  account 
for  a  huge  number  ol  balky  lads.  These  are 
most  prominent: 

(1 )  Some  advertising  is  immensely  effective  in 
selling  a  product . 

Though  proofs  are  hard  to  come  by,  only  .1 
must  unreasonable  man  could  deny  the  success 
ol  Leo  Burnett's  sophisticated  tough  ol  a  Marl- 
boro man,  William  Esty's  dumb  but  happy  Win- 
ston's-taste-good-like-a-cigarette-should,  or  Ted 
Bates's  smoothly  reassuring  20,000  filters  in  a 
Viceroy.  Generalh  speaking,  there  are  no  im- 
portant differences  among  the  leading  brands  ol 
cigarettes  except  those  created  by  advertising, 
and— although  Marlboro's  package  (the  so-called 
flip-top  box)  was  unquestionably  helpful  in 
establishing  the  brand— no  "marketing"  elements 
other  than  the  advertising  can  seriously  claim 
any  major  share  of  the  credit  for  the  success  ol 
these  three  filter  cigarettes. 

(2)  Most  advertising  campaigns  are  only 
faintly  successful,  and  many  fail  utterly. 

The  classic  statement  of  the  situation  goes 
back  to  John  Wanamaker  in  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury: "I  know  half  the  money  I  spend  on  adver- 
tising is  wasted,  but  I  can  never  find  out  which 
half." 

Horace  Schwerin,  who  tests  television  commer- 
c  ials  before  a  theater  audience,  claims  that  nearly 
half  of  those  he  screens  have  no  apparent  influ- 
ence on  the  brand  preferences  of  the  people  in 
his  theater.  Daniel  Starch  finds  that  three- 
quarters  of  the  people  who  have  read  a  magazine 
fail  to  recognize  the  average  advertisement  in 
the  issue  when  it  is  shown  to  them  in  an  inter- 
view. George  Gallup  says  that  as  many  as  one- 
third  of  the  people  who  remember  many  of  the 
details  of  a  television  commercial  or  an  adver- 
tisement in  a  magazine  have  no  idea  what 
product  (let  alone  what  brand)  the  sales  pitch 
hoped  to  sell. 

(3)  An  elaborate  and  apparently  triumphant 
advertising  campaign  which  sells  great  quantities 
of  a  new  product  to  new  customers  will  not  ivin 
repeated  sales,  if  the  product  is  in  fact  per- 
ceptibly inferior  to  its  competitors. 

Examples  are  a  soap  and  a  hair  dye  which  sold 
heavily  in  their  early  months  and  then  collapsed, 


WHAT     IS     ADVERTISING     GOOD     FOR? 


27 


because  the  first  version  of  each  product  was 
defective.  The  factors  which  caused  failure  in 
both  brands  have  since  been  corrected,  but  it  is 
significant  that  neither  has  ever  been  able  to 
regain  the  public  favor  it  enjoyed  shortly  after 
it  was  launched.  Even  the  most  heavily  adver- 
tised brand  cannot  hold  its  market  if  it  is  ob- 
servably inferior  to  others  selling  at  the  same 
price.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  an  adver- 
tised brand  can  command  a  higher  price  than  an 
identical  product  sold  without  advertising. 

(4)  Most  brands  of  "packaged  goods"  can 
attain  only  a  certain  maximum  share  of  the 
market  for  their  sort  of  product. 

Beyond  this  saturation  level— almost  always 
below  50  per  cent  of  the  total  market— advertis- 
ing will  not  greatly  increase  sales,  however  in- 
telligently it  is  practiced  and  however  much 
money  is  spent  on  it.  (Stopping  the  advertising, 
however,  will  produce  a  loss.)  It  is  axiomatic  in 
the  toothpaste  business,  for  example,  that  a 
brand  with  30  per  cent  of  the  market  may  throw 
a  fresh  $10  million  into  advertising  to  gain  per- 
haps a  5  per  cent  increase  in  sales;  while  the 
same  $10  million,  devoted  to  advertising  a  new 
brand,  may  give  the  new  brand  a  20  per  cent 
share-of-market. 

(5)  Advertising  cannot  increase  sales  for  a 
product  if  there  is  an  over-all  trend  against  this 
kind  of  commodity.  (It  may,  of  course,  increase 
the  sales  of  a  brand  by  giving  the  brand  a  greater 
share  of  a  smaller  market.) 

Brewers  spend  more  than  $100  million  a  year 
in  advertising,  but  per  capita  consumption  of 
beer  declines  every  year.  Meanwhile,  on  the 
rising  side  of  the  trend,  vintners  spend  only 
about  $15  million  a  year  and  annually  increase 
the  per  capita  consumption  of  wine.  In  1956, 
the  four  leading  non-filter  cigarettes  increased 
their  advertising  expenditures  by  at  least  $3  mil- 
lion—and sold  16.5  billion  fewer  cigarettes, 

(6)  Given  two  identical  samples,  carrying  two 
different  brand  names  and  advertised  with  two 
different  slogans,  most  consumers  will  say  that 
one  is  superior  to  the  other  on  grounds  of  taste, 
aroma,  consistency,  durability,  etc. 

The  Philip  Morris  Company  has  found  that 
when  people  puff  two  cigarettes  alternately,  they 
cannot  in  fact  tell  the  difference  between  them, 
and  that  their  preference  for  one  over  the  other 
will  invariably  reflect  the  influence  of  adver- 
tising. (The  practical  application  of  this  insight 
is  in  the  pre-testing  of  proposed  advertisements, 
which  are  shown  to  panels  of  consumers  while 
they  puff.) 


Foote,  Cone  &  Belding  once  tested  the  strength 
of  a  competitor's  advertising  campaign  by  pack- 
aging two  identical  batches  of  an  ice-cream 
mix— labeling  one  with  their  client's  slogan 
and  the  other  with  the  competitor's  slogan— and 
giving  away  one  of  each  to  a  large  number  of 
housewives.  Shortly  thereafter,  the  agency  sent 
an  interviewer  to  ask  the  women  which  of  the 
two  brands  they  had  preferred.  Only  one-fifth 
of  them  felt  there  was  no  difference  between  the 
two;  all  the  rest  felt  a  marked  preference  for 
one  or  the  other. 


SOMETHING     ADDED 

IS  I  T  possible  to  put  together  a  self-consistent 
theory  which  will  explain  the  facts?  If  so, 
we  might  then  begin  to  understand  the  role 
advertising  actually  plays  in  our  society— and  to 
think  about  it  in  real  terms,  without  the  usual 
notion  that  it  is  the  creature  of  cherubim  or 
imps. 

For  the  last  eighteen  months  I  have  been 
examining  facts  of  this  kind  at  close  range,  re- 
searching and  writing  a  book  about  this  peculiar 
industry.  I  have  talked  to  several  hundred  adver- 
tising men,  including  most  of  the  acknowledged 
leaders  of  the  profession.  I  found  them  remark- 
ably articulate  and  thoughtful  about  the  details 
of  their  work— about  plans  and  procedures  and 
organizations,  and  even  about  the  mysteries  of 
creation.  But  when  we  discussed  the  funda- 
mental nature  of  their  profession,  their  answers 
were  generally   fragmentary   and   disappointing. 

Most  of  them  started  from  the  idea  that 
advertising  "creates  wants."  Some  said,  in  John 
Kennedy's  fifty-year-old  phrase,  that  it  was  "sales- 
manship in  print."  Others  said  that  "it  moves 
you  closer  to  the  purchase,"  or  it  "builds  a  'brand 
image'  "  which  draws  you  subconsciously  toward 
a  product.  (There  were  also  a  few  deplorable 
cynics  who  felt  that  it  "doesn't  do  any  damned 
good  at  all,  but  it's  a  nice  living.")  Even  the 
most  thoughtful  of  the  men  I  saw  were  too 
absorbed  in  the  techniques  of  advertising,  or  too 
concerned  about  its  morality,  to  look  for  a  more 
basic  rationale  for  what  they  were  doing. 

With  some  diffidence,  I  would  like  to  suggest 
that  a  valid  theory  of  advertising  can  be  built. 
Such  a  theory  would  be  helpful  to  economists 
and  sociologists.  It  could  be  quite  useful  to 
mere  consumers.  And  it  might  work  wonders  for 
the  morale  of  the  advertising  men  themselves, 
who  seem  to  be  haunted  by  recurring  doubts 
about  their  value  to  society. 

Any   realistic   approach   to   such   a    theory,    it 


28 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


seems  to  aie,  ought  to  starl  with  the  premise 
that  successful  advertising  adds  a  new  value  to 
the  product.    Only  this  hypothesis  can  account 

for  all  of  the  observed  facts.  Other  theories— 
especiall)  the  argument  that  advertising  "creates 
wants"     leave    some    facts    unexplained. 

Once  added  value  is  assumed  as  the  basis,  the 
faits  fall  into  place.  I  ake  the  case  of  a  soda  pill, 
a  placebo,  which  is  advertised  as  a  headache  cure. 
(Carefull)  advertised,  so  as  not  to  run  afoul  of 
Federal  Trade  Commission  regulations.)  The 
pill  ma)  have  virtually  no  medical  value;  but  it 
will  actually  cure  the  headaches  of  a  number  of 
people  who  take  it.  I  he  suggestion  power  of 
the  advertising  lias  created  a  value  for  an  other- 
wise worthless  product. 

Again,  a  lipsiick  ma)  be  sold  at  Woolworth's 
under  one  name,  and  in  a  department  store 
under  another,  nationally-advertised  name.  Al- 
most any  teen-age  girl  will  prefer  the  latter, 
il  she  can  afford  to  pay  tin  difference.  Wearing 
the  Woolworth's  brand,  she  feels  her  ordinary 
sell;  wearing  the  other,  which  has  been  success- 
fully advertised  as  a  magic  recipe  Eoi  glamor, 
she  feels  a  beauty— and  perhaps  she  is. 

For  the  value  ol  a  product  to  the  person  who 
buys  ii  is  not  limited  to  the  physical  use  he  makes 
of  it.  The  lood  laddist  who  drinks  a  reconsti- 
tuted nonfat  dry  milk  solid  receives  the  value 
of  his  belief  that  he  is  guarding  himself  against 
a  heart  attack.  lire  ambitious  voting  mail  boy 
who  twists  a  lemon  peel  into  his  martini  feels 
that  he  is  doing  something  which  is  done  in  the 
circles  to  which  he  aspires— and  even  il  he  is 
sober,  the  martini  tastes  the  better  for  it.  When- 
ever a  benefit  is  promised  from  the  use  of  a 
product,  and  the  promise  is  believed,  then  the 
use  of  that  product  carries  with  it  a  value  not 
necessarily  inherent  in  the  stuff  itself. 

Except  in  extreme  cases,  such  as  the  placebo 
pill  and  the  cosmetic,  the  value  added  by  adver- 
tising is  small  in  relation  to  those  values  which 
the  product  already  had.  Thus,  advertising  can- 
not, as  an  ordinary  matter,  sell  products  which 
are  observably  inferior  to  their  competitors. 
Again,  this  added  value  can  only  rarely  be  great 
enough  to  overcome  major  trends  in  product 
consumption— either  in  a  single  area,  such  as 
beer,  or  in  the  entire  community,  as  in  time  of 
economic  depression.  During  a  depression, 
money  itself  has  an  added  value,  and  the  num- 
ber on  the  price  tag  becomes  more  important 
than  the  values  created  by  advertising:.  In  more 
prosperous  times,  however,  the  extra,  intangible 
values  of  status  or  security— made  part  of  a  prod- 
uct   by   advertising— may   seem   worth    whatever 


extra  money  the)  cost.  Schweppes  tonic  sells  at 
•i  high  premium  over  the  price  <>l  Canada  Dry, 

largeh  because  ol  the  value  added  bv  David 
( )gih  v  \  advertising. 

One  advertising  campaign  is  highl)  successful 
because  it  adds  a  value  which  seems  important 
to  a  large  section  of  the  community;  another  is 
unsuccessful  because  the  value  added  is  tex>  ti  iv  ial 
to  interest  anybody.  Moreover,  the  nature  ol  the 
value  added  bv  the  advertising  campaign  selects 
the  customers  who  will  buy  the  brand.  1  he  Lord 
Calverl  "Man  of  Distinction"  campaign,  foi  ex- 
ample, made  that  brand  ol  whiskey  the  favorite 
of  the  Negro  community. 

Since  individuals  ordei  their  lives  on  different 
value  scales,  no  brand  can  hope  via  advertising 
to  win  all  the  customers  in  a  competitive  market. 
This  explains  the  phenomenon  ol  market  satura- 
tion, which  occurs  when  the  great  bulk  of  those 
who  place  high  importance  on  the  particular 
values  added  bv  this  advertising  are  already  pur- 
chasing the  brand.  (This  element  ol  individual 
scales  of  value  also  explains  the  observed  fact 
of  limited  "brand  loyalty.")  And  the  consumer 
savs  that  he  finds  differences  between  identical 
products  which  are  differentlv  advertised  because 
the  advertising  has,  in  fact,  made  them  different. 


is  it  real: 

IN  PART,  the  words  "added  value"  are 
merely  another,  more  accurate  and  more  use- 
ful, way  of  expressing  the  thought  behind  the 
phrase  "creating  a  want."  The  value  ol  a  product 
to  a  consumer  lies  in  its  fulfillment  ol  a  par- 
ticular desire:  increased  desire  must  be  reflected 
across  the  equation  mark  by  increased  value. 
The  old  idea  of  created  wants  is  unrealistic, 
however,  because  it  assumes  an  unchanged  prod- 
uct. In  fact,  the  application  of  advertising  to  a 
product  must  to  some  extent  change  the  product. 
It  is  remarkable  how  many  people,  who  readily 
see  that  a  new  package  or  a  new  brand  name 
will  alter  a  product,  fail  to  see  that  advertising 
inevitably  has  a  very  similar  effect. 

Moreover,  the  incomplete  concept  of  created 
wants  produces  much  silliness  of  argument  by 
advertising's  practitioners  and  its  critics.  Adver- 
tising men,  by  and  large,  are  hypersensitive  and 
overdefensive  about  their  work,  partly  because 
they  see  it  as  "the  creation  of  wants."  It  is  pos- 
sible to  rationalize  want-creating  as  a  socially 
admirable  activity,  but  the  argument  is  a  tedious 
one— and  subject  at  several  points  to  a  devastat- 
ing reply  which,  in  Bernard  Shaw's  phrase, 
"expresses   itself    through    a    symbol    formed    by 


WHAT     IS     ADVERTISING     GOOD     FOR? 


29 


.  .  .  creation  of  wants  .  .  . 

applying  the  thumb  to  the  tip  of  the  nose  and 
throwing  the  extended  fingers  into  graceful 
action."  Realization  within  the  trade  that  adver- 
tising works  on  the  product,  rather  than  working 
over  the  consumer,  might  make  the  advertising 
community  less  guilt-ridden  and  contentious.  At 
the  same  time,  a  better  understanding  of  what 
advertising  really  does  might  quiet  the  appar- 
ently unceasing  attacks  on  the  industry  for  its 
alleged  fraud,  deceit,  and  "hidden  persuasion." 

The  notion  that  advertising  can  somehow 
"manipulate"  people  into  buying  products  which 
they  should  not  buy  is  both  arrogant  and  naive. 
It  has  been  proved  false  repeatedly  by  advertis- 
ing's inability  to  keep  an  inferior  product  afloat, 
or  to  sell  against  primary  trends.  When  an  adver- 
tising campaign  is  highly  successful,  it  will  almost 
always  be  found  that  the  wagon  has  been  hooked 
onto  a  strong  tendency  which  existed  before  the 
ads  were  written.  It  is  not  a  difference  in  quality 
or  amount  of  advertising  that  makes  campaigns 
for  filter  cigarettes  successful,  while  campaigns 
for  non-filter  cigarettes  fail;  lung  cancer  is  the 
dominant  fact  here,  though  you  would  not 
expect  to  find  so  obscene  an  expression  in  a 
cigarette  ad. 

And  the  consuming  public— whatever  its  fail- 
ings in  the  kingdom  of  abstract  ideas— is  usually 
rather  shrewd  in  its  evaluations  of  competing 
products.  The  individual  consumer  appears  to 
make  a  fool  of  himself  when  he  says  that  Brand  A 
"tastes  better"  than  Brand  B,  though  the  two 
are  chemically  identical.  But  his  difficulty  is  in 
expression,  not  perception.  The  superior  value 
which  he  asserts  when  he  says  "Brand  A  tastes 
better"  is  not  a  false  or  even  an  artificial  value, 
just  because  the  assertion  is  false.  Though  he 
cannot  explain  the  reasons,  the  consumer  actually 
does  receive  greater  enjoyment— and  thus  more 
value  for  his  money— when  he  buys  Brand  A. 

Where  techniques  from  the  social  sciences  and 
the  psychological  laboratory  are  used  to  find 
advertising  ideas  (and  the  success  achieved  with 
these  techniques  has  been  by  no  means  so  great 


as  some  propagandists  would  have  you  believe), 
the  case  is  open-and-shut.  If  a  product  satisfies  a 
sublimated  sexual  drive,  and  advertising  can 
enlarge  the  consciousness  of  this  satisfaction,  then 
advertising  has  obviously  heightened  the  value 
of  the  product  to  the  consumer .  If  advertising 
can  convince  a  consumer  that  his  purchase  of  a 
product  will  promote  him  to  the  upper  classes 
(and  he  cares  to  be  ranked  with  the  upper 
classes)  he  will  receive  an  added  value  that  could 
be  described  as  a  thrill.  The  dry-goods  merchant 
who  buys  his  first  Cadillac  gets  a  satisfaction 
which  cannot  be  measured  in  terms  of  the  auto- 
mobile itself.  The  Cadillac  prestige  manufac- 
tured by  advertising  man  James  Adams  is  as 
important  to  him  as  the  Cadillac  horsepower 
manufactured  by  General  Motors. 

Many  will  object  that  the  values  created  by 
advertising  are  "false  values."  But  the  truth  or 
falsity  of  a  value  enjoyed  by  a  consumer  is  unim- 
portant in  the  objective  context  of  getting  and 
spending.  Outside  standards  of  judgment  cannot 
measure  the  reality  of  private  gratifications.  The 
history  of  human  vice  indicates  that  values 
widely  regarded  as  false  will  always  seem  real 
enough  to  command  a  price  in  the  market  place. 
So  the  truth  or  falsity  of  the  values  added  by 
advertising  is  a  question  for  individual  judg- 
ment, a  matter  of  opinion,  rather  than  a  subject 
for  objective  analysis. 


WHY    INTELLECTUALS 
HATE    IT 

AN  D ,  of  course,  there  is  only  one  civilized 
cultural  judgment  on  advertising:  a  rous- 
ing thumbs-down.  The  great  bulk  of  advertising 
is  culturally  repulsive  to  anyone  with  any  de- 
veloped sensitivity.  So  are  most  movies  and 
television  shows,  most  popular  music  and  a  sur- 
prisingly high  proportion  of  published  books. 
When  you  come  right  down  to  it,  there  is  not  a 
hell  of  a  lot  to  be  said  for  most  of  what  appears 
in  the  magazines. 

But  a  sensitive  person  can  easily  avoid  cheap 
movies,  cheap  books,  and  cheap  art,  while  there 
is  scarcely  anyone  outside  the  jails  who  can  avoid 
contact  with  advertising.  By  presenting  the 
intellectual  with  a  more  or  less  accurate  imafje 
of  the  popular  culture,  advertising  earns  his 
enmity  and  calumny.  It  hits  him  where  it  hurts 
worst:  in  his  politically  liberal  and  socially  gen- 
erous outlook— partly  nourished  on  his  avoid- 
ance of  actual  contact  with  popular   taste. 

Successful  advertising,  which  must  create  mass 
sales,  cannot  rise   too  far  above  or  fall   too  far 


30 


II  UPER'S     MAGAZIN  1 


below  the  cultural  level  oi  the  people  at  whom  it 
aims.  Even  il  .m  advertising  man  suspects  thai 
lie  could  win  results  with  a  more  tasteful  ad  or 
television  program,  he  is  restrained  l>\  the  fact 
thai  he  is  spending  someone  else's  money.  1 1 1- 
ina\  iisk  .1  new  approach  iii  an  advertising 
theme;  but  he  cannoi  be  asked  i<>  experimeni 
with  cultural  standards  which  may  cut  him  ofl 
from  his  client's  market. 

Though  mosi  advertising  must  retain  the 
cultural  values  of  its  audience,  advertising  can 
and  does  work  small  changes  in  public  taste.  On 
balance,  these  changes  arc  probably  in  the  direc- 
tion of  increased  sensitivity.  Advertising  copy 
and  headlines  are  probably  negative  forces, 
helping  out  with  the  general  debasement  of 
the  language.  Advertising  requires  extreme  sim- 
plification of  complicated  subjects,  and  the  ad- 
vertising writer  must  therefore  stretch  previously 
precise  words  to  cover  large  areas.  But  advertis- 
ing is  a  visual  as  well  as  a  verbal  technique.  The 
firsl  purpose  ol  advertising  art  is  to  catch  the 
attention  ol  the  consumer,  in  such  a  way  that 
he  is  favorably  inclined  toward  the  message.  Gen- 
erally speaking,  originality  in  art  is  more  likely 
to  win  attention  than  the  same  damn  thing  all 
over  again— so  advertising  art  has  kept  within 
reaching  distance  of  advanced  design.  Through 
advertising,  the  public  has  become  familiar  with 
what  sensitive  people  usually  regard  as  "good 
design";  and  familiarity  in  this  area  breeds  ac- 
ceptance. In  the  more  general  sense,  and  on  Us 
own  terms,  advertising  as  a  whole  seeks  to 
heighten  public  sensitivity,  because  a  more  sensi- 
tive perception  will  be  more  likely  to  recognize 
the  values  of  slight  product  differences. 

The  culture  must  be  seen,  of  course,  in  a  wider 
focus  than  mere  aesthetics— and  in  this  more 
general  view  its  horrified  critics  charge  that 
advertising  poisons  the  wells. 

"Advertising  has  concentrated,"  writes  For- 
tune's Daniel  Bell  in  the  New  Leader,  "on  arous- 
ing the  anxieties  and  manipulating  the  fears  of 
consumers  to  coerce  them  into  buying." 

Stripped  of  its  emotional  language,  and  re- 
phrased in  the  terms  of  an  added-value  concept, 
this  argument  means  that  advertising  creates  feel- 
ings of  insecurity  for  the  purely  commercial 
purpose  of  increasing  the  value  of  a  brand.  Re- 
duced to  cases,  the  charge  is  that  Listerine  and 
Colgate  force  people  to  worry  about  mouth  odors 
to  persuade  them  to  use  a  product  which,  it  is 
claimed,  eliminates  bad  breath. 

And  there  is  no  way  around  it:  the  accusation 
is  true.  (Though  it  must  be  said  that  advertising 
has  only  a  relatively  minor  influence  on  funda- 


mental attitudes,  and  cannot  create  a  Eeai  01  an 
anxiet)  not  dread)  present  in  the  consumer— at 
leasl  in  the  latent  form  ol  an  experience  not  fully 
considered— before  he  comes  upon  the  ad.)  Ad- 
vertising  undoubtedly  does  magnify  the  pains  ol 
modern  existence  so  n  can  sell  products  which 

are  supposed  to  soothe  them. 

I  aken  l>\  itself,  this  act  seems  morally  unjusti- 
fiable. Hut  the  product  ven  often  does  assuage 
the  pains— and  it  does  so.  in  those  areas  ol  health 
and  beaut)  where  the  fear  appeals  are  most 
commonly  used,  because  ol  the  power  ol  sugges- 
tion of  the  advertising  itself.  The  poor  old  crock 
who  feels  tired  every  afternoon  at  three,  from  a 
complicated  set  ol  physical  and  psychological 
causes,  ma)  be  peisuacled  to  believe  thai  what 
ails  him   is    I  ireel    Blood.    So  a  dose  of  Geritol, 


.  .  .  feelings  0]  insecurity  .  .  . 

though  his  condition  may  be  such  that  it  does 
him  no  physical  good  at  all,  may  really  cure 
him  of  his  symptoms.  The  girl  who  is  ashamed 
ol  her  pimples  may  bear  them  with  more 
grace  aftei  she  bins  a  product  which  is  adver- 
tised as  the  greatest  pimple  destroyer  in  his- 
tory— even  if  it  is  actually  nothing  more  than 
second-rate  cold  cream,  aerated  (with  lanolin 
added). 

Moreover,  most  of  the  products  advertised 
as  cures  I01  such  ills  do  not  work  merely  psycho- 
logical wonders;  often  they  actually  will  produce 
some  of  the  physical  benefits  claimed. 

In  real  life,  advertising  does  not  plummet  un- 
troubled people  into  a  pit  ol  anxiety,  for  the 
single,  vulgar  goal  of  an  advertiser's  profit.  Ad- 
vertising probably  does  increase  the  number  of 
people  who  feel  some  conscious  concern  about 
their  physical  or  social  failings.  But  it  offers 
to  all  people— both  those  who  felt  the  concern 
before  they  saw  the  advertising  and  those  in 
whom  it  is  newly  aroused— a  solution  (a  guaran- 


WHAT     IS     ADVERTISING     GOOD     FOR? 


31 


teed  solution,  in  the  context  of  the  advertising) 
to  their  troubles.  For  a  considerable  proportion 
of  those  who  try  it,  the  product  actually  is  a  solu- 
tion, and  drinking  it  down  frees  them  of  their 
worries.  Measuring  the  damage  done  to  the 
national  psyche  by  the  additional  fears  created 
by  advertising,  as  against  the  soothing  of  the 
national  psyche  achieved  by  removing  the  same 
fears  from  a  number  of  people  who  previously 
suffered  them,  is  a  task  for  a  subtle  metaphysician 
indeed. 

THE    "CONFORMISTS" 

FINALLY,  there  is  the  relationship  be- 
tween advertising  and  what  a  large  number 
of  people  call  "conformity."  This  relationship  is 
difficult  to  discuss,  because  the  alleged  "con- 
formity," as  a  new  development  in  society,  prob- 
ably does  not  exist  outside  the  imaginations  of 
the  people  who  talk  about  it.  It  is  true,  of  course, 
that  a  large  mass  of  citizens  drawn  at  random 
from  within  a  single  culture  will  have  more 
things  in  common  than  not.  It  is  also  true  that 
modern  communications  have  produced  some 
breaking  down  of  old  and  perhaps  valuable 
regional  distinctions.  And  it  is  true  that  develop- 
ments in  the  past  thirty  years  have  raised  the 
economic  condition  of  the  nation's  lowest  tenth 
and  lowered  that  of  its  highest  tenth;  raised  the 
educational  level  of  the  lowest  tenth  and  lowered 
that  of  the  highest  tenth.  So  the  community 
appears  to  be  more  homogeneous,  from  a  distant 
look.  But  the  same  developments  which  have 
created  the  appearance  of  homogeneity  have  also 
brought  about  an  astonishing  increase  in  the 
variety  of  entertainments,  of  housing  and  fur- 
nishing possibilities,  of  hobbies,  of  consumer 
goods— even  of  intellectual  pursuits,  for  those  so 
minded. 

Actually,  "conformity"  plagues  the  impover- 
ished communities,  where  people  work  to  ex- 
haustion and  have  neither  the  leisure  nor  the 
income  to  express  their  tastes.  A  prosperous 
middle-class  society  may  feel,  more  strongly 
than  a  poor  community,  that  it  does  not  like 
people  who  rock  the  boat— but  within  broad 
limits  its  members  are  free  to  indulge  their  indi- 
viduality as  they  have  never  been  before. 

And  advertising's  contribution  here  is,  on  the 
whole,  to  increase  diversity.  Advertising  lives  by 
the  product  difference,  real  or  asserted— that  is, 
by  appealing  to  different  tastes  in  values.  If 
advertising  looks  like  other  advertising  (as  so 
much  of  it  does)  the  fault  lies  in  the  limited  skill 
of  many  practitioners  (and  in  the  fact  that  ad- 


vertisers, knowing  that  their  competitors  are 
smart,  insist  on  ads  quite  similar  to  the  com- 
petition's). The  purpose  is  not  to  force  anyone 
to  "conform." 

What  lies  behind  the  cry  of  "conformity"  and 
the  accusation  that  advertising  promotes  it  is  the 
deep  disajDpointment  following  upon  the  arrival 
of  the  millennium.  We  have  achieved  the  nine- 
teenth-century dream:  practically  everyone  has 
enough  to  eat  and  decent  clothing;  by  any  stan- 
dards but  our  own  nearly  everyone  is  well 
housed;  the  workday  is  short  and  leisure  is 
ample. 

But  the  millennial  culture  turns  out  not  to  be 
very  interesting:  the  average  man  remains  a 
mediocre  fellow,  and  pleased  with  himself,  to 
boot.  Which  is,  certainly,  well  within  his  rights. 
Perhaps  advertising  ought  to  do  something  for 
the  culture,  but  it  won't;  says  it  can't;  says  it 
shouldn't  be  asked.  In  his  most  defensive  mo- 
ments, the  advertising  man  will  hammer  on  the 
table  and  say  the  majority  must  be  right  to  like 
garbage  because  it  buys  so  much  garbage.  Hold- 
ing up  an  inescapable  mirror  which  reflects  dis- 
appointment, and  refusing  for  reasons  of  trade 
to  comment  on  the  picture  in  the  mirror,  adver- 
tising asks  to  be  disliked  by  that  element  of  the 
community  which  aspires  to  a  higher  culture. 
It  is. 

BUT  dislike  of  advertising,  however  strongly 
felt,  is  no  excuse  for  silly  attacks  on  it.  Like 
the  rest  of  us,  the  advertising  man  does  the  best 
he  can.  He  has  days  when  he  likes  to  regard 
himself  as  a  Machiavellian  figure,  and  for  busi- 
ness reasons  he  has  been  known  to  egg  on  critics 
who  wildly  overestimate  his  power  in  the  com- 
munity. But  he  did  not  create  the  culture  in 
which,  perforce,  he  has  to  work;  not  infrequently, 
he  shares  his  critics'  distaste  for  the  popular, 
adolescent-oriented  aesthetic  scene.  And  he  is 
not  the  only  cobbler  who  has  decided,  at  least 
for  the  time  being,  to  stick  to  his  last. 

In  our  current  economy,  where  personal  sell- 
ing is  clearly  too  expensive  a  way  to  move  the 
necessary  volume  of  goods,  advertising  performs 
a  necessary  function— and  the  more  successful  it 
is,  the  more  prosperous  everyone  will  be.  Seen 
objectively,  the  advertising  man's  work  increases 
the  material  comfort  and  the  sum  of  private 
gratifications  of  the  nation  as  a  whole.  The 
values  which  advertising  creates  may  strike  a 
moralist  as  mangy  beasts.  But  moralists  today, 
like  moralists  throughout  history,  must  live 
with  the  fact  that  in  the  dark  and  democratic 
world  of  private  gratification  all   cats  are  gray. 


Owr  DUMB  colkames 


B)    \  Kill  I   It    C.   CLARK  I, 

I  h  mi  i  flgH    l>\     />'"\      l/<  /\  /«■ 

\  c  hhnpunzcc  loai  ncd  to  be  i iiul 

Inn  •  I. H        .  .mil  it  -i  «in    entire!) 
pa    il>li    in  In  i  ill  iiipi  i  .i|n     in  work 
i     Ion-  1 1  <  >  i  <  1 1 1  <  1 1      1 1 1  (i  cleiinei 
i  hi  inn  nickci      . 1 1 1 •  I  i  \  in  bob]     iltci 


II I  I  s  I    i  hough  1 1  an  parti)  inspin  tl  b)  the 
,inii.    o|  i  li/.abelh,  who  is  sill ing  opposite 

1 1 ii   wiih  I ■•  i  lace  cupped  in  hei  feel    She  is  i I 

hi  doing  this,  and   the  eflci  i   is  odd    espei  uilly 
w  In  M  sin    .us  on  In  i  hands  al  I  hi   sanu   i  imc 
Elizabeth    is   .1    sm.ill    monke)    »lm    1  ei  ent l\ 

joined  in)   household  and  has  give 1  a  new 

perspective  on  the  animal  world   She  has  started 

mi   thinking  about  ii Ii    thai  the  othei  crea 

.  who  share  this  planci  with  us  will  play  in 

ill.     sin  in  \     i.l     1  In      1 111  iik      .mil     I     inc. 111    .is    <  11 

workers,  not  merely  .is  pets  01  sources  "I  food 

1 ». iw  11  ilic  i  (  in  111 11  ..   Man  has  doinest i<  ated  ■> 
sin  1 H  is  in" l\    large   nuinbei    ol    animals    ranging 

1 1  ili »gs,  ■  In  1  tabs,  and  falcons  im   li ig,  to 

elephants,  horses,  and  yaks  foi  transport,  Bui 
these  arc  occupations  which  rcquin  little  intel 
ligi  nee  WhIi  model  11  know  Ii  dgc  1  •!  animal 
psychology   ami  conditioned  reflexes,  we  should 

lie  able  i<>  train  some  ol  companions  on  the 

■  I,  .I..    1.  .1  1  Ii  nunc  sn|iliisi  11  ated  tasks, 

in  .in  ngc  when  there  is  so  much  i.ilk  ol  .hud 
niation,  1  liis  1 1 1.1  \  sci  in  .1  backward  step;  but  there 


will  always  be  jobs  which,  though  tedious  and 
unpleasant    perhaps  even  dangerous    are  jo  in* 

1 .. ,    1 1  ,i<    in   mechanize   thai    robots  cannol    pei 
form  1  In  in    \\  1   will  have  to  gi  1  help  from  iomi 

W  III    I  1       1    I   II 

1 1  id  obvious  when  w<  will  lool  foi  it  Oui 
cousins    1  lie    apes    and    monkeys     11      die    onl) 

animal  1  po   1     ;  both  manual  dexterity  and  in- 

ii  |lig<  11. 1     ilic\    have  ahead)    show  n   1  but    1  hey 

can  per f< a  wid<  range  ol  jobs    ivh  11  the)  feel 

hi  1  11  In  Malaya,  man)  people  will  be  surprised 
in  li  .11  n.  1  In  pig  1. nli  ii  in. 11  aciue  has  been  em- 
ployed foi  generations  to  harvest  tin  coconut 
crop  b)  1 1  mil  mi",  1  In  1.1  II  palms  ind  dropping 
ili<  mils  Similai  talents  were  displayed  b)  one 
oi  1  in  few  <  himpanzees  w  ii  h  a  ci  mnn.il  record 
Sou. Hcs.  11. lined  1  •  s  ins  m.isii  1  in  burgle  New 
Yoik  apartments  fifteen  stories  up,  to  the  baffle 

men!   ol    I  lie  1  ml  11  e. 

['here  arc  ven  few  jobs  honest  01  dishonest  - 
I/../  requiring  abstract  thought  which  .1  chimpan- 
zee 1.1  n  noi  he  1 1.1 1  mi  I  in  do  l>\  die  standard 
methods  ol  demonstration  followed  i>\  a  suitable 
reward  (Standard,  com<  to  ilnnk  ol  it,  both  E01 
animals  and  human  beings.)  I  here  is  no  great 
mysten  about  animal  training,  and  certainly  no 
question  <>i  cruelty,  li  requires  .1  thorough 
understanding  ol  die  pupil's  mental  limitations, 
and  enough  patience  to  repeal  an  action  ovet 
and  ovet  again  until  the  animal  ",i.isj>s  what  is 
required  ol  it,  Successful  accomplishment  is 
rewarded  1 » \  food,  though  often  <^<  reward  is 
necessary  rhe  highei  apes  frequentl)  imitate 
humans  jnsi  foi  the  Inn  ol  it;  Captain  Proske 
records  how  Ins  chimpanzee  (  ongo  loved  to  d<> 
|oiis  around  the  house  such  .is  washing,  ironing, 
.ind    dai nine    1  he    1  i"i lies    1  hough    with    more 

(111  llllsl.islll     I  ll.llt     skill. 


OUR     DUMB     COLLEAGUES 


33 


These  modest  beginnings  show  what  can  be 
done  even  today,  with  an  animal  straight  from 
the  jungle1.  However,  no  existing  ape  possesses 
the  docility  and  the  power  of  sustained  attention 
needed  to  make  it  truly  employable.  Intelligence, 
dexterity,  strength— they  are  all  there,  but  relia- 
bility is  still  lacking. 

If  we  tackled  the  problem  of  breeding  for 
brains  with  the  same  enthusiasm  that  has  been 
devoted  to  breeding  dogs  of  surrealist  shapes, 
we  could  eventually  produce  assorted  models  of 
useful  primates  ranging  in  size  from  the  gorilla 
down  to  the  baboon,  each  adapted  for  a  special 
type  of  work.  It  is  not  putting  too  much  strain 
on  the  imagination  to  assume  that  the  geneticists 
could  produce  a  super-ape  able  to  understand 
some  scores  of  words  and  capable  of  being  trained 
for  such  jobs  as  picking  fruit,  cleaning  up  the 
litter  in  the  park,  shoe-shining,  collecting  the 
garbage,  doing  household  chores,  and  even  baby- 
sitting. (Though  I  have  known  some  babies  I 
would  not  care  to  trust  with  a  valuable  ape.) 

Many  jobs,  such  as  street-cleaning  and  the 
more  repetitive  types  of  agricultural  work,  it 
could  do  unsupervised,  though  it  might  need 
protection  from  those  egregious  specimens  of 
Homo  sapiens  who  think  it  amusing  to  tease 
or  bully  anything  they  consider  lower  on  the 
evolutionary  ladder.  For  other  tasks,  such  as 
paper-delivering  and  dock-laboring,  our  man- 
ape  would  have  to  work  under  human  overseers; 
and  incidentally  I  would  love  to  see  the  finale  of 
a    twenty-first-century   "On   the   Waterfront"   in 


which  the  honest  but  hairy  hero  drums  on  his 
chest  after— literally— taking  the  wicked  labor 
leader  apart. 

Once  a  supply  of  non-human  workers  became 
available,  a  whole  range  of  low  IQ  jobs  could 
be  thankfully  relinquished  by  mankind,  to  its 
great  mental  and  physical  advantage.  What  is 
more,  one  of  the  problems  which  has  plagued  so 
many  fictional  Utopias  would  be  avoided;  there 
would  be  none  of  the  degradingly  sub-human 
"Epsilons"  of  Huxley's  Brave  New  World  to  act 
as  a  permanent  reproach  to  society.  For  there  is 
a  profound  moral  difference  between  breeding 
sub-men  and  super-apes,  even  if  the  end  products 
may  be  much  the  same.  The  first  would  intro- 
duce a  form  of  slavery;  the  second  would  be  a 
biological  triumph  which  could  be  of  benefit  to 
both  men  and  animals. 

But  I  must  come  back  in  a  hurry  from  these 
dreams  of  a  future  society.  Elizabeth  has  just 
managed  to  open  the  garage  door  and  is  trying 
to  start  the  car.  And  that  will  never  do,  for  she 
hasn't  got  her  driving  license  yet. 


The  first  of  two  articles  by 
GEORGE   F.   KENNAN 

Former  Ambassador  to  Moscow  and  Former 
Chief  of  the  State  Department's 
Policy  Planning  >  Division 


A  CHANCE  TO  WITHDRAW 
OUR  TROOPS  IN  EUROPE 


A  proposal  for  pulling  back  both  American 

and^  Russian  armies  .  .  .  exploring  a  new  way 

to  unify  Germany  .  .  .  lessening  the 

danger  of  atomic  war  .  .  .  and  for  a  better 

defense  of  the  West  at  a  lower  cost. 

TH  E  time  has  come,  it  seems  to  me,  for  a 
fresh  examination  of  the  main  issues  which 
lie  between  the  Soviet  Union  and  the  West.  It  is 
barely  possible  we  might  now  find  that  an  ap- 
proach to  a  settlement— or  at  least  to  a  more  en- 
durable situation— is  not  so  hopeless  as  it  has 
long  seemed  to  be. 

These  issues  fall  into  two  categories: 

(1)  The  basic  ones,  by  which  I  mean  disagree- 
ments over  such  things  as  frontiers  and  the 
political  control  of  territory. 

(2)  The  secondary  ones  flowing  from  the  mili- 
tary rivalry  which  has  grown  up  between  NATO 
and  the  Soviet  bloc. 

The  basic  issues  of  genuine  gravity  arose  di- 
rectly from  the  manner  in  which  World  War  II 
was  allowed  to  come  to  an  end.  The  authority 
of  a  United  German  government  was  then  ex- 
punged within  Germany  itself  and  throughout 
large  areas  of  Eastern  Europe;  and  the  armies  of 
the  Soviet  Union  and  the  Western  Democracies 
met  in  the  middle  of  this  territory  and  took  con- 
trol of  it,  before  there  was  any  adequate  agree- 
ment on  its  future  permanent  status. 

This  was,  of  course,  the  combined  result  of  the 


unconditional  surrender  policy,  which  relieved 
the  Germans  of  all  responsibility  for  the  future 
status  of  this  area,  and  the  failure  of  the  Allied 
governments  to  arrive  at  any  realistic  understand- 
ings among  themselves  about  it  while  the  war 
was  on.  Since  it  has  not  been  possible  to  reach 
such  understandings  subsequently,  except  in  the 
case  of  Austria,  the  provisorium  flowing  from 
these  circumstances  has  endured.  It  is  this  that 
we  are  faced  with  today. 

The  difficulty  obviously  breaks  down  into  two 
parts:  the  satellite  area  and  Germany. 

In  the  past  three  or  four  years,  the  Moscow 
leaders  have  made  an  attempt  to  undo  some  of 
the  harm  that  Stalin  had  clone  in  the  satellites 
with  his  policies  of  ruthless  political  oppression 
and  economic  exploitation.  The  first  effect  of 
this  relaxation— shown  in  the  disorders  in  Eastern 
Germany  and  Poland  and  later  in  Hungary- 
was  not  to  reconcile  people  to  the  fact  of  Soviet 
rule  but  rather  to  reveal  the  real  depths  of  their 
restlessness  and  the  extent  to  which  the  postwar 
arrangements  had  outworn  whatever  usefulness 
they  might  once  have  had.  The  Soviet  leaders, 
startled  and  alarmed  by  these  revelations,  have 
now  seen  no  alternative,  in  the  interests  of  their 
own  political  and  military  security,  but  to  re- 
impose  sharp  limits  to  the  movement  for  greater 
independence  in  these  countries,  and  to  rely  for 
the  enforcement  of  these  restrictions  on  the 
naked  use  or  presence  of  their  own  troops. 

The  result  has  been,  as  we  all  know,  the  crea- 
tion  of  an   extremely   precarious   situation— un- 

Copyright  ©  1957,  1958  by  George  F.  Kennan 


CHANCE  TO  WITHDRAW  OUR  TROOPS  IN  EUROPE 


35 


satisfactory  from  everyone's  standpoint.  The 
state  of  the  satellite  area  today,  and  particularly 
of  Poland,  is  neither  fish  nor  fowl,  neither  com- 
plete Stalinist  domination  nor  real  independence. 
Things  cannot  be  expected  to  remain  this  way 
for  long.  There  must  either  be  further  violent 
efforts  by  people  in  that  area  to  take  things  into 
their  own  hands  and  to  achieve  independence 
by  their  own  means,  or  there  must  be  the  begin- 
ning of  some  process  of  real  adjustment  to  the 
fact  of  Soviet  domination. 

In  the  first  of  these  contingencies,  we  in  the 
West  could  easily  be  placed  once  more  before 
the  dilemma  which  faced  us  last  year  at  the  time 
of  the  Hungarian  uprising;  and  anyone  who  has 
the  faintest  concern  for  the  stability  of  the  world 
must  fervently  pray  that   this  will  not  happen. 

As  for  the  second  alternative,  which  at  this 
moment  seems  to  be  the  more  likely  of  the  two, 
it  seems  no  less  appalling.  If  things  go  on  as  they 
are  today,  there  will  simply  have  to  be  some  sort 
of  adjustment  on  the  part  of  the  peoples  of 
Eastern  Europe,  even  if  it  is  one  that  takes  the 
form  of  general  despair,  apathy,  demoralization, 
and  the  deepest  sort  of  disillusionment  with  the 
West.  The  failure  of  the  recent  popular  upris- 
ings to  shake  the  Soviet  military  domination  has 
now  produced  a  state  of  bitter  and  dangerous 
despondency  throughout  large  parts  of  Eastern 
Europe.  If  the  taste  or  even  the  hope  for  inde- 
pendence once  dies  out  in  the  hearts  of  these 
peoples,  then  there  will  be  no  recovering  it;  then 
Moscow's  victory  will  be  complete. 

WILL  THE  RUSSIANS 
PULL  BACK? 

IC  A  N  conceive  of  no  escape  from  this  dil- 
emma that  would  not  involve  the  early  de- 
parture of  Soviet  troops  from  the  satellite  coun- 
tries. Only  when  the  troops  are  gone  will  there 
be  possibilities  for  the  evolution  of  these  nations 
toward  institutions  and  social  systems  most  suit- 
ed to  their  needs;  and  what  these  institutions 
and  systems  might  then  be,  is  something  about 
which  I  think  we  in  the  West  can  afford  to  be 
very  relaxed.  If  Socialism  is  what  these  people 
want  and  need,  so  be  it;  but  let  it  by  all  means 
be  their  own  choice. 

It  is  plain  that  there  can  be  no  Soviet  military 
withdrawal  from  Eastern  Europe  unless  this  en- 
tire area  can  in  some  way  be  removed  as  an 
object  in  the  military  rivalry  of  the  Great  Pow- 
ers. But  this  at  once  involves  the  German  prob- 
lem because  it  implies  the  withdrawal  of  Soviet 
forces  from  Eastern  Germany,  and— so  long  as 


American  and  other  Western  forces  remain  in 
Western  Germany— the  Russians  must  view  their 
problem  in  Eastern  Europe  in  direct  relation  to 
the  over-all  military  equation  between  Russia 
and  the  West.  Any  solution  of  the  problem  of 
the  satellite  area  is  thus  dependent  on  a  solution 
of  the  German  problem  itself. 

This  being  the  case,  I  think  we  cannot  scrutin- 
ize too  closely  or  too  frequently  in  the  light  of 
the  developing  situation  both  in  Europe  and  in 
the  world  at  large,  the  position  the  Western 
governments  have  taken  on  Germany. 

The  West  has  insisted,  and  with  very  good 
reason,  that  the  modalities  of  German  unifica- 
tion, as  a  domestic  program,  must  flow  from  the 
will  of  the  German  people,  expressed  in  free 
elections.  But  the  West  has  gone  farther  than 
that.  It  has  also  insisted  that  no  restrictions 
whatsoever  must  be  placed  in  advance  on  the 
freedom  of  a  future  all-German  government  to 
determine  its  own  international  orientation  and 
to  incur  military  obligations  to  other  states. 
Specifically,  the  Western  governments  have  in- 
sisted that  such  an  all-German  government  must 
be  entirely  free  to  continue  to  adhere  to  the 
NATO  Pact,  as  the  German  Federal  Republic 
does  today;  and  it  is  taken  everywhere  as  a 
foregone  conclusion  that  an  all-German  govern- 
ment would  do  just  that. 

If  a  future  united  Germany  should  choose  to 
adhere  to  NATO,  what  would  happen  then  to 
the  garrisons  of  the  various  allied  powers  now 
stationed  on  German  soil?  The  Western  position 
says  nothing  specific  about  this.  But  while  Brit- 
ish, French,  and  American  forces  would  presum- 
ably remain  in  Germany  under  the  framework 
of  the  NATO  system,  one  must  assume  that 
those  of  the  Soviet  Union  would  be  expected  to 
depart.  If  this  is  so,  then  Moscow  is  really  being 
asked  to  abandon— as  part  of  an  agreement  on 
German  unification— the  military  and  political 
bastion  in  Central  Europe  which  it  won  by  its 
military  effort  frqm  1941  to  1945,  and  to  do  this 
without  any  compensatory  withdrawal  of  Amer- 
ican armed  power  from  the  heart  of  the  Conti- 
nent. 

This  is  something  the  Soviet  government  is 
most  unlikely  to  accept,  if  only  for  reasons  of 
what  it  will  regard  as  its  own  political  security 
at  home  and  abroad.  It  will  be  hard  enough, 
even  in  the  best  of  circumstances,  for  Moscow 
ever  to  extract  itself  from  its  present  abnormal 
involvements  in  Eastern  Europe  without  this 
having  repercussions  on  its  political  system.  It 
cannot,  realistically,  be  asked— if  agreement  is 
wanted— to  take  this  step  in  any  manner  that 


36 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


would  seriously  jeopardize  its  prestige.  The  mere 
fact  of  Soviet  withdrawal,  without  any  compen- 
sator) withdrawal  on  the  Western  side,  would 
create  the  general  impression  of  a  deleat  for 
Soviet  polity  in   Eastern  and  Centra]    Europe. 

The  Soviet  leaders  will  therefore  see  in  these 
present  Western  proposals  a  demand  for  some- 
thing in  the  nature  ol  an  unconditional  sur- 
render of  the  Soviet  interest  in  the  German 
question  generally;  and  if  the)  ever  should  be  so 
weak  as  to  have  no  choice  but  to  quit  Germany 
on  these  terms,  ii  would  scarcely  take  an  agree- 
ment with  the  Western  Powers  to  enable  them 
to  do  so.  So  long,  therefore,  as  it  remains  the 
Western  position  that  the  hands  of  a  future  all- 
German  government  must  not  he  in  any  way 
tied,  I  see  little  hope  for  any  removal  of  the 
division  of  Germany  at  all— not,  by  the  same 
token,  of  the  removal  of  the  division  of  Europe. 

DANGEROUS     EXPECTATIONS 

THERE  are  those  in  our  Western  camp,  I 
know,  who  find  in  this  state  of  affairs  no 
great  cause  for  alarm.  A  divided  Germany  seems, 
for  the  moment,  to  he  less  of  a  problem  to  them 
than  was  the  united  Germany  ol  recent  memory. 
I  In -v  regard  the  continued  presence  of  American 
forces  in  Germany  as  an  indispensable  pledge 
of  American  military  interest  in  the  Continent, 
and  they  tremble  at  the  thought  that  this  pledge 
should  ever  be  absent.  It  is  agreeable  to  them 
that  America,  by  assuming  this  particular  burden 
and  bearing  it  indefinitely,  should  relieve  West- 
ern Europe  of  the  necessity  of  coming  to  grips 
itself  with  the  German  question. 

This  view  is  understandable  in  its  way.  There 
was  a  time,  in  the  immediate  postwar  period, 
when  it  was  largely  justified.  But  there  is  danger 
in  permitting  it  to  harden  into  a  permanent  atti- 
tude. It  expects  too  much,  and  for  too  long  a 
time,  of  the  United  States,  which  is  not  a  Euro- 
pean power.  It  does  less  than  justice  to  the 
strength  and  the  abilities  of  the  Europeans  them- 
selves. It  leaves  unsolved  the  extremely  precari- 
ous and  unsound  arrangements  which  now  gov- 
ern the  status  of  Berlin— the  least  disturbance  of 
which  could  easily  produce  a  new  world  crisis. 
It  takes  no  account  of  the  present  dangerous 
situation  in  the  satellite  area.  It  renders  perma- 
nent what  was  meant  to  be  temporary.  It  as- 
signs half  of  Europe,  by  implication,  to  the 
Russians. 

Let  me  stress  particularly  this  question  of  Ber- 
lin. There  is  a  stubborn  tendency  in  England 
and  the  U.  S.  to  forget  the  Berlin  situation  so 


long  as  it  gives  us  no  trouble  and  to  assume  that 
everything  will  somehow-  work  out  for  the  best. 
May  I  point  out  that  the  Western  position  in 
Bei  I  in  is  by  no  means  a  sound  or  safe  one;  and 
it  is  being  rendered  daily  more  uncertain  by  the 
ominous  tendency  of  the  Soviet  government  to 
thrust  forward  the  last  German  regime  as  its 
spokesman  in  these  matteis.  Moscow's  purpose 
in  this  maneuver  is  obviously  to  divest  itself  of 
responsibility  lor  the  future  development  of  the 
Berlin  situation.  It  hopes  by  this  means  to  place 
itsell  in  a  position  where  it  can  remain  serenely 
aloof  while  the  East  German  regime  proceeds  to 
make  the  Western  position  in  the  city  an  impos- 
sible one.   This  is  a  sure  portent  of  trouble. 

It  would,  of  course,  be  wholly  wrong  to  sug- 
gest that  it  is  only  the  uncertainty  of  the  West- 
ern position  about  the  future  of  the  garrisons  in 
Germany  that  stands  in  the  way  of  a  settlement. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  any  acceptable  arrangement 
lot  German  unification  would  be  an  extremely 
difficult  thing  to  achieve  in  any  case.  It  took  ten 
years  to  negotiate  a  similar  settlement  for  Aus- 
tria. The  negotiation  of  a  German  settlement 
might  also  take  years,  in  the  best  of  circum- 
stances. But  I  think  we  are  justified  in  assuming 
that  it  is  this  question  of  the  indefinite  retention 
of  the  American  and  other  Western  garrisons  on 
German  soil  which  lies  at  the  heart  of  the  diffi- 
culty; and  until  greater  clarity  is  achieved  about 
tli is  point,  there  can  be  no  proper  beginning. 

It  will  at  once  be  held  against  what  I  have  said 
that  Moscow  itself  does  not  today  want  German 
unification  on  any  terms.  Perhaps  so.  Certainly 
in  recent  months  there  have  been  no  signs  of 
enthusiasm  in  Moscow  for  any  settlement  of  this 
sort.  But  how  much  of  this  lack  of  enthusiasm 
is  resignation  in  the  face  of  the  Western  position, 
we  do  not  know.  Until  we  stop  pushing  the 
Kremlin  against  a  closed  door,  we  shall  never 
learn  whether  it  would  be  prepared  to  go 
through  an  open  one. 

We  must  also  bear  in  mind  that  things  change 
from  time  to  time  in  Moscow,  just  as  they  do 
here  in  the  West.  If  the  disposition  to  conclude 
a  German  settlement  does  not  exist  today  in 
Moscow,  our  positions  should  at  least  be  such  as 
to  give  promise  of  agreement  when  and  if  this 
attitude  changes. 

Finally,  the  question  is  not  just  whether  Mos- 
cow, as  people  say,  "wants"  German  unification. 
It  is  a  question  of  whether  Moscow  could  afford 
to  stand  in  the  way  of  it  if  there  were  a  real  pos- 
sibility for  a  general  evacuation  of  Europe. 
Gomulka  not  long  ago  promised  the  Polish  peo- 
ple that  the  day  the  Americans  leave  Germany, 


CHANCE  TO  WITHDRAW  OUR  TROOPS  IN  EUROPE 


37 


he  will  take  up  with  the  Soviet  government  the 
question  of  the  departure  of  the  Soviet  forces 
from  Poland.  And  it  is  quite  clear  that  as  Poland 
goes,  in  this  respect,  so  goes  the  rest  of  the  satel- 
lite area.  Khrushchev  has  not  specifically  de- 
murred at  Gomulka's  position;  on  the  contrary, 
he  has,  in  fact,  even  murmured  things  himself, 
from  time  to  time,  about  a  possible  mutual  with- 
drawal of  forces,  although  he  has  intimated  that 
the  price  of  a  Soviet  withdrawal  might  be  some- 
what higher  than  what  Gomulka  implied. 

In  any  case,  the  interest  of  the  satellite  govern- 
ments in  a  general  evacuation  of  Germany  is 
perfectly  clear.  If,  therefore,  a  more  promising 
Western  position  would  not  assure  agreement  at 
this  time,  it  would  at  least  serve  to  put  a  greater 
strain  on  Moscow's  position,  and  to  shift  clearly 
and  definitely  to  the  Soviet  side  the  onus  of  de- 
laying a  reasonable  European  settlement. 

AN     AMERICAN     WITHDRAWAL? 

ARE  there,  then,  points  at  which  the 
Western  position  could  safely  be  im- 
proved? It  is  hard  for  an  outsider  to  answer  to 
such  a  question  in  this  rapidly-moving  time,  f 
can  only  say  that  there  are  two  features  of  our 
present  thinking  which,  in  my  opinion,  might 
well  undergo  particular  re-examination. 

I  wonder,  in  the  first  place,  whether  it  is  actu- 
ally politic  and  realistic  to  insist  that  a  future  all- 
German  government  must  be  entirely  free  to 
determine  Germany's  military  orientation  and 
obligations,  and  that  the  victor  powers  of  the  re- 
cent war  must  not  in  any  way  prejudice  that  free- 
dom by  any  agreement  among  themselves.  This 
is  outwardly  a  very  appealing  position.  It  grati- 
fies the  Western  attachment  to  the  principle  of 
national  self-expression.  It  is,  for  obvious  rea- 
sons, a  position  no  German  politician  can  lightly 
oppose.    But  is  it  sound,  and  is  it  constructive? 

A  peace  treaty  has  not  yet  been  concluded. 
The  powers  of  the  victors  have  not  yet  formally 
lapsed  in  Germany.  Might  it  not  just  be  that  the 
only  politically  feasible  road  to  unification  and 
independence  for  Germany  should  lie  precisely 
through  her  acceptance  of  certain  restraints  on 
freedom  to  shape  her  future  military  position  in 
Europe?  And,  if  so,  is  it  not  just  a  bit  quixotic 
to  cling,  in  the  name  of  the  principle  of  German 
freedom  and  independence,  to  a  position  which 
implies  the  sacrifice  of  all  freedom  and  all  inde- 
pendence for  many  millions  of  East  Germans, 
for  an  indefinite  time?  No  useful  purpose  is  go- 
ing to  be  served  by  the  quest  for  perfect  solu- 
tions.  The  unlocking  of  the  European  tangle  is 


not  to  be  achieved  except  at  some  sort  of  a  price. 
Is  there  not— in  this  insistence  that  the  hands  of 
a  future  German  government  must  not  be  in  any 
way  tied— an  evasion  of  the  real  responsibility  of 
the  victor  powers? 

The  second  element  of  Western  thinking  that 
might  well  stand  further  examination  is  the  com- 
mon assumption  that  the  Western  powers  would 
be  placed  at  a  hopeless  military  disadvantage  if 
there  were  to  be  any  mutual  withdrawal. 

It  is,  of  course,  impossible  to  discuss  this  ques- 
tion in  specific  terms  unless  one  knows  just  what 
sort  of  withdrawal  is  envisaged— from  where  and 
to  where,  and  by  whom  and  when.  Here,  as  is 
frequently  forgotten,  there  are  many  possible 
combinations;  and  I  am  hot  at  all  sure  that  all 
of  these  have  really  been  seriously  explored. 

But  beyond  this,  I  have  the  impression  that 
our  calculations  continue  to  rest  on  certain  ques- 
tionable assumptions  and  habits  of  thought: 

1)  an  overrating  of  the  likelihood  of  a  Soviet 
effort  to  invade  Western  Europe; 

(2)  an  exaggeration  of  the  value  of  the  satel- 
lite armies  as  possible  instruments  of  a  Soviet 
offensive  policy; 

(3)  a  failure  to  take  into  account  all  the  impli- 
cations of  the  ballistic  missile;  and 

(4)  a  serious  underestimation  of  the  advan- 
tages to  Western  security  to  be  derived  from  a 
Soviet  military  withdrawal. 

THE     YOUNG     GERMANS 

ON  E  of  the  arguments  most  frequently 
heard  in  opposition  to  the  introduction 
of  any  greater  flexibility  into  the  Western  posi- 
tion in  Germany  is  that  "you  can't  trust  the  Ger- 
mans." It  is  therefore  better,  people  say,  that 
Germany  should  be  held  divided  and  in  part 
dependent  on  the  West,  than  that  the  Germans 
should  once  again  be  permitted  independence  of 
action  as  a  nation. 

I  cannot  share  this  opinion.  Germany  is  in  a 
state  of  great  transition,  and  one  can  easily  find, 
within  its  changing  scene,  anything  one  seeks.  It 
is  true  that  many  of  the  older  generation  are 
not  likely  ever  to  recover  entirely  from  the 
trauma  of  the  past;  they  tend  to  be  twisted  peo- 
ple in  one  way  or  another,  which  does  not  neces- 
sarily mean  that  they  are  still  Nazis.  But  I  have 
seen,  as  an  academic  lecturer,  whose  own  educa- 
tion took  place  partly  in  Germany,  a  bit  of  the 
younger  Germany;  and  I  am  convinced  that 
these  young  people— troubled,  bewildered,  un- 
supported at  this  time  by  any  firm  tradition  from 
their  own  national  past— will  not  fail  to  respond 


38 


HARPER'S     MAGAZ1M 


to  am  Western  .i|>|>cil  thai  carries  the  ring  <>l 
real  vision,  of  conviction,  and  ol  seriousness  of 
purpose.  The  youngei  generation  i>l  Germans 
are  more  threatened  today  l>\  the  inroads  ol  a 
pervasive,  cynical  materialism  than  the)  are  l>\ 
any  extreme  nationalistic  tendencies:  and  it  is 
precisely  here,  in  combating  i his  materialism, 
that  we  in  the  West  have  u, i \ c ■  1 1  them,  1  Eear, 
little  help  or  inspiration.  To  stake  our  luture 
on  tliis  youngei  German)  is  admittedly  to  take 
a  chance— but  I  can  think  ol  no  greater  risk  than 
the  trend  toward  nuclear  war  on  which  we  are 
all  now  being  carried. 

If  Germany  cannot  be  accorded  reasonable 
confidence  in  these  coming  years,  then  I  know 
of  no  promising  solution  to  the  entire  problem 
of  Europe.  If  we  are  going  to  make  so  negative 
and  so  hopeless  an  assumption,  let  us  be  terribly, 
terribly  sure  that  our  judgment  is  drawn  not 
from  the  memories  and  emotions  of  the  past  but 
from   sober  attention   to   present   realities. 

THE    SUICIDAL    WEAPON 

THESE  observations  naturally  bring  up 
the  military  aspect  of  our  conflict  with 
Soviet  power.  Never  in  history  have  nations  been 
faced  with  a  danger  greater  than  that  which  now 
confronts  us  in  the  form  of  the  atomic  weapons 
race.  Except  in  instances  where  there  was  a  pos- 
sibility of  complete  genocide,  past  dangers  have 
generally  threatened  only  the  existing  genera- 
tion. Today  it  is  everything  which  is  at  stake— 
the  kindliness  of  our  natural  environment  to  the 
human  experience,  the  genetic  composition  of 
the  race,  the  possibilities  of  health  and  life  for 
future  generations. 

Not  only  is  this  danger  terrible,  but  it  is  im- 
mediate. Efforts  toward  composition  of  major 
political  differences  between  the  Russians  and 
ourselves  have  been  practically  abandoned.  Be- 
lief in  the  inevitability  of  war— itself  the  worst 
disservice  to  peace— has  grown  unchecked.  We 
have  a  world  order  marked  by  extreme  instabil- 
ity. In  the  Middle  East  alone,  for  example,  we 
have  a  situation  where  any  disturbance  could 
now  easily  involve  us  all  in  an  all-out  war. 

To  me  it  is  a  source  of  amazement  that  there 
are  people  who  still  see  the  escape  from  this 
danger  in  our  continued  multiplication  of  the 
destructiveness  and  speed  of  delivery  of  the 
major  atomic  weapons.  These  people  seem  un- 
able to  wean  themselves  from  the  belief  that  if 
the  Russians  gain  the  slightest  edge  in  the  ca- 
pacity to  wreak  massive  destruction  at  long 
range,   they  will  immediately  use  it— regardless 


ill  Din  (.i|).uil\  lot  retaliation— win  leas,  il  we  can 
only  contrive  to  get  a  mn  bit  ahead  ol  the  Rus- 
sians, we  shall  in  some  \\.i\  have  won.  our  sal- 
vation will  be  assured;  the  load  will  then  lie 
paved  for  a  settlement  on  our  own  terms.  This 
cast  of  thought  seems  to  have  been  much  en- 
couraged, in  the  I  .  S.  at  least,  by  the  shock  of 
tlie  launching  ol   the  Russian  earth  satellites. 

I  scarcely  need  say  that  I  see  no  grounds  what- 
soever in  this  approach.  The  hydrogen  bomb, 
admittedly,  has  a  certain  sorry  value  to  us  today 
as  a  deterrent.  When  I  say  this,  I  probably  do 
not  mean  exactly  what  many  other  people  mean 
when  they  say  it.  1  have  never  thought  that  the 
Soviet  government  wanted  a  general  world  war 
at  any  time  since  1945,  or  that  it  would  have 
been  inclined,  for  any  rational  political  reason, 
to  inaugurate  such  a  war,  even  had  the  atomic 
weapon  never  been  invented.  I  do  not  believe, 
in  other  words,  that  it  was  our  possession  of  the 
atomic  bomb  which  prevented  the  Russians  from 
overrunning  Europe  in  1948  or  at  any  other  time. 
In  this  I  have  disagreed  with  some  very  impor- 
tant people. 

But  now  that  the  capacity  to  inflict  this  fear- 
ful destruction  is  mutual,  and  now  that  this 
premium  lias  been  placed  on  the  element  of 
surprise,  I  am  prepared  to  concede  that  the 
atomic  deterrent  has  its  value  as  a  stabilizing 
factor  until  we  can  evolve  some  better  means 
of  protection.  And  so  long  as  we  are  obliged 
to  hold  it  as  a  deterrent,  we  must  obvi- 
ously see  to  it  that  it  is  in  every  way  adequate 
to  that  purpose— in  destructiveness,  in  speed  of 
delivery,  in  security  against  a  sudden  preventive 
blow,  and  in  the  alertness  of  those  who  control 
its  employment.  But  I  can  see  no  reason  why  we 
should  indulge  ourselves  in  the  belief  that  the 
strategic  atomic  weapon  can  be  anything  more 
than  a  temporary  and  regrettable  expedient, 
tiding  us  over  a  dangerous  moment. 

As  for  these  various  frantic  schemes  for  de- 
fense against  atomic  attack,  I  can  see  no  grounds 
whatsoever  for  confidence  in  them.  I  do  not 
trust  the  calculations  on  which  they  are  based. 
War  has  always  been  an  uncertain  exercise,  in 
which  the  best-laid  plans  are  frequently  con- 
founded. Today  the  variables  and  unknowns  in 
these  calculations  are  greater  than  ever  before. 
I  do  not  believe  there  is  any  human  mind  or 
group  of  human  minds  or  any  calculating  ma- 
chine anywhere  in  the  world  which  can  predict 
with  accuracy  what  would  happen  if  these 
weapons  should  begin  to  be  used  or  which  could 
devise  realistic  defenses  against  them. 

But  beyond  this,  what  sort  of  a  life  is  it  to 


CHANCE  TO  WITHDRAW  OUR  TROOPS  IN  EUROPE 


39 


which  these  devotees  of  the  weapons  race  would 
see  us  condemned?  The  technological  realities 
of  this  competition  are  constantly  changing 
from  month  to  month  and  from  year  to  year. 
Are  we  to  flee  like  haunted  creatures  from  one 
defensive  device  to  another,  each  more  costly 
and  humiliating  than  the  one  before,  cowering 
underground  one  day,  breaking  up  our  cities  the 
next,  attempting  to  surround  ourselves  with 
elaborate  electronic  shields  on  the  third,  con- 
cerned only  to  prolong  the  length  of  our  lives 
while  sacrificing  all  the  values  for  which  it  might 
be  worthwhile  to  live  at  all?  If  I  thought  that 
this  was  the  best  the  future  held  for  us,  I  should 
be  tempted  to  join  those  who  say,  "Let  us  divest 
ourselves  of  this  weapon  altogether;  let  us  stake 
our  safety  on  God's  grace  and  our  own  good 
consciences  and  on  that  measure  of  common 
sense  and  humanity  which  even  our  adversaries 
possess;  but  then  let  us  at  least  walk  like  men, 
with  our  heads  up,  so  long  as  we  are  permitted  to 
walk  at  all." 

The  beginning  of  understanding  rests,  in  this 
appalling  problem,  with  the  recognition  that  the 
weapon  of  mass  destruction  is  a  sterile  and  hope- 
less weapon  which  may  for  a  time  serve  as  an 
answer  of  sorts  to  itself,  as  an  uncertain  sort  of  a 
shield  against  utter  cataclysm,  but  which  cannot 
in  any  way  serve  the  purposes  of  a  constructive 
and  hopeful  foreign  policy.  The  true  end  of 
political  action  is,  after  all,  to  effect  the  deeper 
convictions  of  men;  this  the  A-bomb  cannot  do. 
The  suicidal  nature  of  this  weapon  renders  it 
unsuitable  both  as  a  sanction  of  diplomacy  and 
as  the  basis  of  an  alliance.  There  can  be  no 
coherent  relations  between  such  a  weapon  and 
the  normal  objects  of  national  policy.  A  defense 
posture  built  around  a  weapon  suicidal  in  its 
implications  can  serve  in  the  long  run  only  to 
paralyze  national  policy,  to  undermine  alliances, 
and  to  drive  everyone  deeper  and  deeper  into 
the  hopeless  exertions  of  the  weapons  race. 

This  fact  is  in  no  way  affected  by  the  Soviet 
earth  satellite,  nor  will  it  be  affected  if  we  launch 
a  satellite  ourselves. 


LIMITED    WAR 

BU  T  even  among  those  who  would  go  along 
with  all  that  I  have  just  said,  there  have 
recently  been  other  tendencies  of  thought  with 
which  I  also  find  myself  in  respectful  but  earnest 
disagreement.  I  have  in  mind  here,  in  particular, 
the  belief  that  the  so-called  tactical  atomic 
weapon— the  atomic  weapon  designed,  that  is,  to 
be    used    at    relatively    short-range    against    the 


armed  forces  of  the  adversary,  rather  than  at 
long  range  and  against  his  homeland— provides  a 
suitable  escape  from  the  sterility  of  any  military 
doctrine  based  on  the  long-range  weapon  of  mass 
destruction. 

Let  me  explain  what  I  mean.  A  number  of 
thoughtful  people,  recognizing  the  bankruptcy  of 
the  hydrogen  bomb  and  the  long-range  missile 
as  the  bases  for  a  defense  policy,  have  pleaded 
for  the  simultaneous  cultivation  of  other  and 
more  discriminate  forms  of  military  strength, 
and  ones  that  could  conceivably  be  used  for  some 
worthwhile  limited  national  objective,  and  with- 
out suicidal  effect.  Some  have  advocated  a  policy 
of  what  they  call  graduated  deterrents.  Others 
have  chosen  to  speak  of  the  cultivation  of  the 
capacity  for  the  waging  of  limited  war,  by  which 
they  mean  a  war  limited  both  in  the  scope  of  its 
objects  and  in  the  destructiveness  of  the  weapons 
to  be  employed.  In  both  instances  what  they 
have  had  in  mind  was  to  find  an  alternative  to 
the  H-bomb  as  the  basis  for  national  defense. 

One  can,  I  think,  have  only  sympathy  and 
respect  for  this  trend  of  thought.  It  certainly 
runs  in  the  right  direction.  Force  is,  and  always 
will  be,  an  indispensible  ingredient  in  human 
affairs.  A  first  step  away  from  the  horrors  of  the 
atom  must  be  the  adequate  development  of 
agencies  of  force  more  flexible,  more  discrimi- 
nate, and  less  suicidal  in  their  effects.  Had  it 
been  possible  to  develop  such  agencies  in  a 
form  clearly  distinguishable  from  the  atomic 
weapon,  this  unquestionably  would  have  pro- 
vided the  most  natural  path  of  escape  from  our 
present  dilemma. 

Unfortunately,  this  seems  no  longer  to  be 
an  alternative,  at  least  so  far  as  the  great  nuclear 
powers  are  concerned.  The  so-called  tactical 
atomic  weapon  is  now  being  introduced  into  the 
armed  forces  of  the  United  States  and  there  is 
an  intention,  as  I  understand  it,  to  introduce 
it  into  Britain's.  We  must  assume  that  the  same 
thing  is  occurring  in  the  Soviet  Union.  While 
many  people  in  our  respective  governments 
have  become  convinced,  I  am  sure,  of  the  need 
for  being  able  to  fight  limited  as  well  as  total 
wars,  it  is  largely  by  the  use  of  the  tactical  atomic 
weapon  that  they  propose  to  fight  them.  It 
appears  to  be  their  hope  that  by  cultivation  of 
the  tactical  weapon  we  can  place  ourselves  in  a 
position  to  defend  the  NATO  countries  success- 
fully without  resorting  to  the  long-range  strategic 
one;  that  our  adversaries  can  also  be  brought  to 
refrain  from  employing  the  hydrogen  bomb; 
that  warfare  can  thus  be  restricted  to  whatever 
the   tactical   weapon    implies;    and    that   in   this 


40 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


way  the  more  apocalyptic  effects  of  nuclear  war- 
fare may  l>e  avoided.* 

It  is  this  thesis  which  I  cannol  accept.  That  it 
would  prove  possible,  in  the  evenl  ol  an  atomic 
war.  to  arrive  at  some  tacit  and  workable  under- 
standing with  the  adversary  as  to  the  degree  of 
destructiveness  of  the  weapons  that  would  be 
used  and  the  sort  of  target  to  which  they  would 
be  directed,  seems  to  me  a  \cr\  slender  and  wish- 
ful hope  indeed. 

But  beyond  this,  let  us  bear  in  mind  the 
probable  effects— the  effects,  particularly,  on  the 
people  in  whose  country  such  a  war  might  be 
waged— of  the  use  of  tactical  atomic  weapons. 
There  seems  to  be  a  duel  I  id  assumption  that 
these  weapons  are  relatively  harmless  things, 
to  be  used  solely  against  the  armed  forces  of  the 
enemy  and  without  serious  ulterior  disadvan- 
tages. Bui  surer)  this  is  not  so?  Even  the  tactical 
atomic  weapon  is  destructive  to  a  degree  that 
sickens  the  imagination.  If  the  experience  of  this 
century  has  taught  us  anything,  i(  is  that  the 
long-term  effects  of  modern  war  are  by  no  means 
governed  just  by  the  formal  outcome  of  the 
struggle  in  terms  of  victory  or  defeat.  Modern 
war  is  not  just  an  instrument  of  policy.  It  is  an 
experience  in  itself.  It  does  things  to  him  who 
practices  it,  irrespective  of  whether  he  wins  or 
loses.  Can  we  really  suppose  that  poor  old 
Europe,  so  deeply  and  insidiously  weakened  by 
the  ulterior  effects  of  the  two  previous  wars  of 
this  century,  could  stand  another  and  even  more 
horrible  ordeal  of  this  nature?  And  let  us  ask 
ourselves  in  all  seriousness  how  much  worth  sav- 
ing is  going  to  be  saved  if  war  now  rages  for  the 
third  time  in  a  half-century  over  the  face  of 
Europe,  and  this  time  in  a  form  vastly  more 
destructive  than  anything  ever  known  before. 

There  is  a  further  danger,  and  a  very  im- 
minent one  as  things  now  stand;  and  this  is  that 
atomic  weapons  strategic  or  tactical  or  both  may 
be  placed  in  the  arsenals  of  our  continental 
allies. 

I  cannot  overemphasize  the  fatefulness  of 
such  a  step.  I  do  not  see  how  it  could  fail  to 
produce  a  serious  increase  in  the  existing  mili- 
tary tension  in  Europe.  It  would  be  bound  to 
raise  a  grave  problem  for  the  Russians  in  respect 
of  their  own  military  dispositions  and  their  rela- 
tions with  the  other  Warsaw  Pact  countries. 
Moscow  is  not  going  to  be  inclined  to  entrust  its 
satellites  with   full  control   over  such  weapons. 

*  This  view  is  set  forth  in  a  book  which  recently 
has  attracted  considerable  international  attention, 
Henry  A.  Kissinger's  Nuclear  Weapons  and  Foreign 
Policy.— The  Editors. 


II.  therefore,  the  Western  continental  countries 
are  to  be  armed  with  them,  any  Russian  with- 
drawal from  Centra]  and  Eastern  Europe  may 
become  unthinkable  for  oiue  and  lor  all,  for 
reasons  ol  sheet  military  prudence,  regardless  of 
what  the  iii.i j t )i  Western  powers  might  be  pre- 
pared to  do. 

In  addition  to  this,  it  is  perfectly  obvious  that 
the  larger  the  number  ol  bands  into  which  the 
control  over  atomic  weapons  is  placed,  the 
smaller  will  be  the  possibility  for  their  eventual 
exclusion  from  national  arsenals  by  international 
agreement. 

I  am  aware  that  similar  warnings  against  the 
introduction  ol  the  atomic  weapon  into  the 
armaments  of  the  continental  countries  have  also 
recently  been  part  of  the  stock-in-trade  of  Soviet 
diplomacy.  But  I  think  we  must  beware  of 
rejecting  ideas  just  because  they  happen  to  coin- 
cide with  ones  put  forward  on  the  other  side. 
Moscow  says  many  harmful  and  foolish  things; 
but  it  would  be  wrong  to  assume  thai  its  utter- 
ances never  happen  to  accord  with  the  dictates 
of  sobrietv  and  good  sense.  The  Russians  are 
not  always  wrong,  any  more  than  we  are  always 
right.  Our  task,  in  any  case,  is  to  make  up  our 
minds  independently. 


EUROPE  PROTECTING  HERSELF 

IS  THERE,  then,  any  reasonably  hopeful, 
alternative  to  the  unpromising  path  along 
which  we  are  now  advancing?  I  must  confess 
that  I  see  only  one.  This  is  precisely  the  opposite 
of  the  attempt  to  incorporate  the  tactical  atomic 
weapon  into  the  defense  of  Western  Europe.  It 
is,  again,  the  possibility  of  separating  geo- 
graphically the  forces  of  the  great  nuclear  powers, 
of  excluding  them  as  direct  factors  in  the  future 
development  of  political  relationships  on  the 
continent,  and  of  inducing  the  Europeans,  by  the 
same  token,  to  accept  a  higher  level  of  responsi- 
bility for  the  defense  of  the  Continent  than  they 
have  recently  borne. 

This  is  still  a  possibility.  We  have  not  yet 
taken  the  fatal  step.  The  continental  countries 
have  not  yet  prejudiced  their  usefulness  for  the 
solution  of  continental  problems,  as  we  have 
ours,  by  building  their  defense  establishments 
around  the  atomic  weapon.  If  they  could  be 
induced  to  refrain  from  doing  this— and  if  there 
could  be  a  general  withdrawal  of  American, 
British,  and  Russian  armed  power  from  the 
heart  of  the  Continent— there  would  be  at  least  a 
chance  that  Europe's  fortunes  might  be  worked 
out,  and  the  competition  between  two  political 


CHANCE  TO  WITHDRAW  OUR  TROOPS  IN  EUROPE 


41 


philosophies  carried  forward,  in  a  manner  dis- 
astrous neither  to  the  respective  peoples  them- 
selves nor  to  the  cause  of  world  peace. 

I  am  aware  that  many  people  will  greet  this 
suggestion  with  skepticism.  On  the  European 
continent,  in  particular,  people  have  become  so 
accustomed  to  the  thought  that  their  danger 
is  a  purely  military  one,  and  that  their  salvation 
can  be  assured  only  by  others,  that  they  rise  in 
alarm  at  every  suggestion  that  they  should  find 
the  necessary  powers  of  resistance  within  them- 
selves. There  is  an  habitual  underestimation 
among  these  peoples  of  the  native  resources  of 
Europe.  The  Western  Europe  of  today  reminds 
me  of  the  man  who  has  grown  accustomed  to 
swimming  with  water  wings  and  cannot  realize 
that  he  is  capable  of  swimming  without  them. 

It  is  plain  that  in  the  event  of  a  mutual  with- 
drawal of  forces,  the  continental  NATO  coun- 
tries would  still  require,  in  addition  to  the 
guarantees  embodied  in  the  NATO  Pact,  some 
sort  of  continuing  local  arrangements  for  their 
own  defense.  For  this  purpose  their  existing 
conventional  forces,  based  on  the  World  War  II 
pattern,  would  be  generally  inadequate.  These 
conventional  forces  are  designed  to  meet  only 
the  least  likely  of  the  possible  dangers:  that  of 
an  outright  Soviet  military  attack  in  Europe, 
and  then  to  meet  it  in  the  most  unpromising 
manner,  which  is  by  attempting  to  hold  it  along 
some  specific  territorial  line. 

But  this  is  not  the  problem.  We  must  get 
over  this  obsession  that  the  Russians  are  yearn- 
ing to  attack  and  occupy  Western  Europe.  The 
Soviet  threat  is  a  combined  military-political 
threat,  with  the  accent  on  the  political.  If  the 
armed  forces  of  the  United  States  and  Britain 
were  not  present  on  the  Continent,  the  problem 
of  defense  for  the  continental  nations  would  be 
primarily  one  of  the  internal  health  and  disci- 
pline of  the  respective  national  societies,  and  of 
the  manner  in  which  they  were  organized  to  pre- 
vent conquest  by  unscrupulous  and  foreign- 
inspired  minorities.  What  they  need  is  a 
strategic  doctrine  addressed  to  this  reality. 

Under  such  a  doctrine,  armed  forces  would 
indeed  be  needed;  but  I  would  suggest  that  as  a 
general  rule  these  forces  might  better  be  para- 
military ones,  of  a  territorial-militia  type,  some- 
what on  the  Swiss  example,  rather  than  regular 
military  units  on  the  World  War  II  pattern. 
Their  function  should  be  primarily  internal 
rather  than  external.  It  is  on  the  front  of  police 
realities,  not  on  regular  military  battlefields, 
that  the  threat  of  Russian  Communism  must 
primarily  be  met. 


The  training  of  such  forces  ought  to  be  such 
as  to  prepare  them  not  only  to  offer  whatever 
overt  resistance  might  be  possible  to  a  foreign 
invader  but  also  to  constitute  the  core  of  a  civil 
resistance  movement  on  any  territory  that  might 
be  overrun  by  the  enemy.  For  this  reason  they 
need  not,  and  should  not,  be  burdened  with 
heavy  equipment  or  elaborate  supply  require- 
ments and  this  means— and  it  is  no  small  advan- 
tage—that they  could  be  maintained  at  a  fraction 
of  the  cost  per  unit  of  the  present  conventional 
establishments. 

I  would  not  wish  to  suggest  any  sweeping  uni- 
form changes.  The  situations  of  no  two  NATO 
countries  are  alike.  There  are  some  that  will 
continue  to  require,  for  various  reasons,  other 
kinds  of  armed  forces  as  well.  I  mean  merely  to 
suggest  that,  if  there  could  be  a  more  realistic 
concept  of  the  problem  and  the  evolution  of  a 
strategic  doctrine  more  directly  addressed  to  the 
Soviet  threat  as  it  really  is,  the  continental  coun- 
tries would  not  be  as  lacking  in  the  resources 
or  means  for  their  own  defense  as  is  commonly 
assumed. 

The  primary  purpose  of  the  dispositions  would 
be  not  the  defense  of  the  country  at  the  frontier 
—though  naturally  one  would  aim  to  do  what- 
ever could  be  done  in  this  respect— but  rather 
its  defense  at  every  village  crossroads.  The  pur- 
pose would  be  to  place  the  country  in  a  position 
where  it  could  face  the  Kremlin  and  say  to  it: 

"Look  here,  you  may  be  able  to  overrun  us— 
if  you  are  unwise  enough  to  attempt  it— but  you 
will  have  a  small  profit  from  it;  we  are  in  a  posi- 
tion to  assure  that  not  a  single  Communist  or 
other  person  likely  to  perform  your  political 
business  will  be  available  to  you  for  this  purpose; 
you  will  find  here  no  adequate  nucleus  of  a 
puppet  regime;  on  the  contrary,  you  will  be 
faced  with  the  united  and  organized  hostility 
of  an  entire  nation;  your  stay  among  us  will  not 
be  a  happy  one;  we  will  make  you  pay  bitterly 
for  every  day  of  it;  and  it  will  be  without  favor- 
able long-term  political  prospects." 

I  think  I  can  give  personal  assurance  that  any 
country  which  is  in  a  position  to  say  this  to 
Moscow,  not  in  so  many  words,  but  in  that  lan- 
guage of  military  posture  and  political  behavior 
which  the  Russian  Communists  understand  best 
of  all,  will  have  little  need  of  foreign  garrisons 
to  assure  its  immunity  from  Soviet  attack. 

A  second  article  by  Mr.  Kennan  will  appear  in 
the  March  issue.  Like  this  one,  it  is  based  on  a 
recent  series  of  BBC  lectures  which  attracted 
world-wide  attention. 


Murray  Teigh   Bloom 


what  two  lawyers  are  doing  to 

HOLLYWOOD 


They   tried    an   experiment   which   outraged 

the  deepest  traditions  of  the  film  business — 

hut   it  saved   a   dying  company, 

changed  the  social  structure  of  the  movie 

world,  and   made  hoth  of  them  rich. 

IN  THE  movie  business  there  is  almost 
always  a  direct  ratio  between  the  speed  with 
which  a  man  rises  to  the  highest  levels  of  power 
and  the  accumulation  of  stories  about  his  chi- 
caneries, sex  life,  and  ignorance. 

Two  current  and  notable  exceptions  are 
Robert  S.  Benjamin  and  Arthur  B.  Krim. 
Chairman  of  the  Board  and  President,  respec- 
tively, of  United  Artists,  they  are  generally  recog- 
nized as  the  most  successful  team  in  the  entire 
industry.  Although  their  triumph  was  achieved 
in  a  brief  six-year  period  when  the  rest  of  the 
trade  was  harried  by  television,  dwindling  audi- 
ences, and  closed  theaters,  they  are  not  only 
respected;  they  are  even  rather  well-liked.  What 
makes  this  still  more  remarkable  is  that  both 
are  lawyers— a  profession  Hollywood  customarily 
associates  only  with  bad  news. 

Benjamin  and  Krim  should  have  dangerous 
enemies.  The  methods  by  which  they  trans- 
formed United  Artists  from  an  almost  bankrupt 
firm  losing  money  at  the  rate  of  $5,000,000  a  year 
to  a  true  blue  chip  with  net  earnings  of  nearly 
$3,500,000  in  1957  challenge  the  deepest  tradi- 
tions of  film  business.  They  did  it  by  enthroning 
talent:  by  offering  stars,  directors,  and  writers 
a  chance  to  be  masters  of  their  own  artistic  fate. 

In  Hollywood  where  the  writer  has  long  been 
regarded  as  a  lazy  cur,  the  director  as  a  dan- 
gerous spendthrift,  and  the  actor  as  a  charming 
but  alarming  child,  this  doctrine  of  "creative 
autonomy,"  as  UA  calls  it,  seemed  worse  than 


heresy.  It  was  generally  considered  the  idiot's 
load  to  ruin. 

When  Benjamin  and  Krim  took  over  UA  from 
Mary  Pickford  and  Charles  Chaplin  in  1951 
there  were  almost  no  independent  producers  left 
except  Sam  Goldwyn.  At  all  the  rest  of  the 
major  studios  the  production  panjandrums  like 
Danyl  Zanuck  would  decide:  "We'll  make 
twenty-five  pictures  this  year  which  will  be  based 
on  the  following  properties."  And  they  would 
be  made— using  of  course  the  talents  of  pro- 
ducers, directors,  actors,  and  writers  on  the  studio 
payroll.  Independent  was  roughly  synonymous 
with  unemployed.  Benjamin  and  Krim  have 
changed  that. 

In  1957  of  the  approximately  230  major  U.S. 
IiIims  made,  about  60  per  cent  were  turned  out 
by  independent  producers;  forty-eight  of  them 
by  United  Artists.  And  so  great  has  been  the 
force  of  the  UA  example  that  even  at  MGM, 
Paramount,  Warner  Brothers,  and  Columbia  a 
majority  of  the  films  were  produced  by  inde- 
pendent units  using  the  financing  powers,  studio 
facilities,  and  distributing  networks  of  the 
studios.  There  are  only  two  holdouts  left:  Twen- 
tieth-Century Fox  where  independent  produc- 
tion is  still  a  minor  matter,  and  Universal,  where 
it  is  non-existent. 

UA  is  still  leading  the  way.  Its  own  roster 
of  talent  includes  such  Hollywood  lions  as  Burt 
Lancaster,  Cary  Grant,  Kirk  Douglas,  John 
Wayne,  Henry  Fonda,  Gregory  Peck,  Joe  Man- 
kiewicz,  Rita  Hay  worth,  Stanley  Kramer,  Bob 
Hope,  William  Wyler,  Edward  Small,  Frank 
Sinatra,  Billy  Wilder,  Gary  Cooper,  Tony  Curtis, 
Susan  Hayward,  Richard  Widmark,  Jeff  Chan- 
dler, Clark  Gable,  and  many  more.  And  up- 
wards of  fifty  independent  producing  organiza- 
tions, invariably  built  around  a  star,  director, 
writer,  or  producer  are  now  making  films  with 
UA  financing,  for  UA  distribution. 


WHAT    TWO    LAWYERS    ARE    DOING    TO    HOLLYWOOD 


43 


UA  has  achieved  this  impressive  showing  by 
the  simple  expedient  of  elevating  talent  to  the 
status  of  a  partner.  A  top  star  in  a  UA  inde- 
pendent production  gets  anywhere  from  30  to  75 
per  cent  of  the  net  profits,  depending  on  the 
success  of  his  previous  films  and  the  cost  of  the 
venture;  if  he  is  a  big  enough  box-office  draw, 
like,  say,  Cary  Grant  he  can  command  10  per 
cent  of  the  gross  profits,  which  means  that  he 
can  make  money  on  a  picture  even  if  it  is  a  com- 
mercial failure. 


THE     SIZE     OF     THE     RISKS 

ON  E  prominent  director  recently  making 
a  film  for  UA,  who  has  also  made  films 
as  an  independent  at  another  major  Hollywood 
studio,  describes  the  differences  as  follows: 

"An  independent  working  with  the  usual 
major  studio  starts  out  with  a  fat  handicap:  he 
finds  that  25  to  40  per  cent  of  his  budget  is 
tacked  on  to  cover  studio  overhead.  With  UA 
there  is  no  overhead;  you  can  make  the  picture 
anywhere  in  the  world.  In  all  these  independent 
contracts  there  is  a  clause  that  when  the  pro- 
ducer runs  over  budget  by  more  than  10  per 
cent  the  studio  has  the  right  to  put  in  a  little 
commissar  to  tell  the  producer  what  to  do— and 
what  not  to  do.  Sure,  they  disguise  the  man's  title 
and  function  but  everyone  knows  it.  He's 
deferential  as  hell  to  the  producer  but  he's  the 
boss  from  then  on  in.  The  permissive  age  is  over. 
Papa  will  spank. 

'As  far  as  I  know,  UA  has  never  sent  a  com- 
missar and  some  of  their  pictues  have  gone  over 

budget.    When  I  was  at they  looked  at 

my  rushes  every  day.  That's  like  a  novelist  hav- 
ing to  send  in  his  daily  few  pages  to  his  pub- 
lisher as  he  writes  them.  What  kind  of  talent 
can  work  that  way? 

"Take  screen  credits.  Don't  let  anyone  kid  you 
that  they're  unimportant.  If  you're  an  inde- 
pendent with  other  major  studios  you  won't  get 
top  credit  on  the  opening  title.  With  UA  I  get 
top  credit  and  somewhere  down  at  the  bottom 
there'll  be  a  modest  line:  'Released  by  United 
Artists.'  Benjamin  and  Krim  stick  to  their  roles; 
they  don't  make  believe  they're  producers  and 
they  don't  compete  with  us  for  kudos." 

Benjamin  and  Krim  have  no  illusions  that 
everyone   is   suited   to   independent   production. 

"You  need  great  drive,  tremendous  self-confi- 
dence, a  need  to  be  in  business  for  yourself," 
Benjamin  says.  "Also  you  need  courage:  it  may 
take  eighteen  months  from  the  time  we  advance 
the  pre-production  money  to  buy  the  story  be- 


fore you  get  an  idea  of  the  box-office  returns." 

The  conversion  of  a  star  to  a  star-producer  is 
usually  regarded  in  Hollywood  as  a  miracle  of 
a  considerably  higher  order  than  Pygmalion's. 
When  UA's  list  of  projected  films  was  announced 
in  1955  Arthur  Krim  felt  constrained  to  tell  the 
trade  press: 

"We  don't  expect  the  stars  to  become  full- 
fledged  producers  overnight.  Some  stars  will  have 
producers  as  partners  in  the  venture;  some  will 
have  business  associates;  others  will  have  direc- 
tors as  partners;  while  still  others  will  carry  the 
business  burdens  themselves." 

As  producer  the  star  takes  over  many  of  the 
functions  of  the  omnipotent  studio  head  of  pro- 
duction—he selects  the  property  he  wants  to  do; 
a  writer;  a  director;  the  co-star,  if  any;  the  place 
he  wants  to  make  the  picture  in;  and  he  works 
out  a  budget.  UA  customarily  asks  to  approve 
the  key  ingredients  in  the  package.  But  even 
before  that  stage  it  has  usually  put  up  pre- 
production  money  to  enable  the  star  to  purchase 
the  property  and  acquire  a  working  script. 

There  are  a  few  talented  specialists  who  can 
go  over  a  film  script  page  by  page  and  predict 
the  total  cost  of  the  production  within  10  per 
cent.  Unfortunately,  they  are  not  omniscient, 
and  their  estimates  are  often  useful  only  as  a 
kind  of  general  guide. 

What  they  don't  know  and  what  Benjamin 
and  Krim  must  be  able  to  evaluate  are  the 
human  factors.  The  director,  for  example.  Is  he 
a  fast  or  slow  shooter?  How  meticulous  is  he 
about  his  takes?  How  many  takes  does  he  need 
before  he  lets  the  scene  go  into  the  can?  The 
answers  can  easily  involve  several  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  in  the  budget.  But  suppose  Billy 
Wilder  is  directing.  Bob  Benjamin  knows  that 
Wilder  is  no  film  and  time  waster.  He  "shoots 
tight."  ("You  can't  help  admiring  the  big  direc- 
tors," Benjamin  observes.  "Even  when  it  is 
money  out  of  their  own  pocket  they  will  over- 
shoot in  striving  for  quality  and  the  exact 
mood.") 

Then  there  is  the  problem  of  the  star.  How 
much  did  his  last  picture  really  gross?  This 
information  is  another  authentic  secret  known 
only  to  the  very  top  bosses  of  film  studios,  who 
sometimes  confide  it  as  a  favor.  Trade-paper 
estimates  have  various  built-in  errors. 

A  good  illustration  of  the  mechanics  and  risks 
of  UA  operation  is  the  history  of  the  picture 
"Alexander  the  Great."  Early  in  1955  writer- 
director  Robert  Rossen  showed  Benjamin  and 
Krim  seventy-five  pages  of  an  incomplete  script. 
They  liked  it. 


II 


ll  \  K  I'  I.  K  's     Vf  AGAZIN1 


\\  >     .ml.     I '. •  1 1 1 recalled  recently,    'I liai 

ii  in  could  writ*  a  picture  that  didn  i  cosi  more 
Hi. in   -i  250,000  iv  i  thou  I  top-grade  si. us  \\<    had 

.1  . 1 .  .il    W<  advanci  d  him  I  ! and  hi    wrote 

mor<  "I  iin  ■•'  i  i|>i  I >i 1 1  it  si  ill  w  asn'i  finished     1 1 

"  i    .1  ill  "ii  ,n    Now  wi  in. nl'  the  deal ore 

definite  w  i  advan<  ed  him  I  »0,000  so  thai 
In  could  "i  i  .i  si  i  design*  i  an  artist,  and  a  pro 
ilin  i  Km  in  mi",  i      1 1,    ".,i    K  H  hard    Uui  ton   foi 

.i  six  ii"  in  i  1 1  .ii  i  plus  ,i  si  i  i.i  1 1  percentage,  and 

<  lain  II loom  and  Fredd)  Man  Ii  With  oui 
hacking  he  was  abli  to  givi  them  firm  contracts, 
\  detailed  hudgei  was  agreed  upon  unli  the 
usual  l"  I"  i  '  i  in  lei  waj  In  I  he  spi  ing  ol  1955 
Rosscn  started  shooting  in  Spain  Ki  he  nectled 
in, ,i ,    mone\  In   drew   ii  from  a  fiscal  < iffi< ei   we 

api ted  ii>i  this  film    Rossen  was  investing  his 

mi  \  ii  i  ,  .mil  uui  and  i  hall  years  <>l  Ins  i  ime    w  i 

were  im esi ing  in  his  s<   taleni     Ml  ■  >i  us 

i  ii<  w  there  were  certain  hazards  here    the  inevil 

able  difficulties  in   iho ■■  a  spectacle  in  a  re 

moii    location  plus  thi    faci  we  li.nl  no  top  stars, 

"Bui   now   i. ■  trouble     ii<    was  going  ovei 

hudgei  mainly,  w<  think,  hecausi  <>i  unusua I 
local  logistical  problems     Uui  we  weren't  going 


to  .ill. mil' hi  i in  projeel  hi  take  il  "m  ol  his 
hands  \\<  don'l  work  thai  wa\  Winn  ii  w.is 
finished  the  job  ran  to  52, 100,000  I  he  box  office 
reviews  were  mixed,  In  |>.nis  ol  the  world  the 
dim  is  suii  playing  bui  we're  prett)  sure  thai 
world-widi  the  film  will  gross  about  $4,500,000, 
Incidentally,  il  broke  ever)  record  in  India  and 
in  (.iiiii 

I  ha l   sounds  .is  il   th<    picture    .1  n >u K I   have 

in. i'i'  i i\  inn  there  are  othei  costs  to  consider. 

v\  <  speni  si. (iiiii, (miii  i,,  advertise  the  film  in  the 

U.S., hei  $350,01 al  ing  aboul  '»<hi  prints 

•  >i  the  coloi  film,  \<M  $100,000  foi  freighi  ship 
UK  nis  ill  the  film,  Milium  Picture  Association 
dues,  .uui  checking  on  exhibitors  to  make  sure 
the)  were  giving  ns  an  honesi  count  on  attend 
ance,  so  in  .ill  before  we  got  back  .i  ceni  iii<- 
film  really  cosi  ns  $3,750,000.  Vnd  more,  really. 
We  have  i  world-wide  network  ol  ninety  <lis 
1 1 iimi uui  offices,  called  exchanges,  thai  cosi   ns 

aboul  $1 5,000,000  .i  yeai  to  m. ain.    In  ordi  i 

ii  this  cosi  we  made  .i  charge  ol  S2  |«'i  <  cm 

aboul  $1,500,000  in  tins  i  ,isr  ol  the  picture's 
gross,  uiinii  is  the  amount  oui  exchanges  re 
<i  ived  . ■  i iti  the  theaters  had  deducted  then  per- 


I    III    0Y,,(l 


^Jsi) 


/ 


( f( 


I  Ik\,   ancient  Biblical  scrolls  they'\>e  been  discovering    wouldn't 
ii  h,  great  >l  they  contained  ten  more  Commandments? 


WHAT    TWO    LAWYERS    ARE     DOING     TO    HOLLYWOOD 


45 


centages.  Major  theaters  usually  get  upwards  of 
50  per  cent  of  gross  box-office  receipts  to  cover 
their  costs  and  profit.  Now  when  we  add  the 
distribution  costs  'Alexander'  really  cost  $5,500,- 
000.  In  short,  we'll  be  out  of  pocket  on  this  deal 
about  $750,000.  Rossen?  We  still  think  he  is  a 
tremendous  creative  talent  and  we  hope  he  will 
make  more  films  for  us." 

UA's  deals  with  talent  almost  always  cover 
more  than  one  picture  so  that  the  losses  on  any 
one  are  balanced  against  the  hoped-for  profits  on 
the  others.  This  "cross-collateralization"  also 
enables  Benjamin  and  Krim  to  say  yes  to  films 
which  they  believe  will  be  commercial  hazards. 

When  Otto  Preminger,  who  made  the  very 
successful  "The  Moon  fs  Blue"  and  "The  Man 
with  the  Golden  Arm,"  wanted  to  do  "Saint 
Joan"  the  UA  chiefs  agreed,  even  though  with- 
out a  known  star  in  the  cast  the  film  was  a  seri- 
ous risk.  Preminger,  a  top  producer-director, 
was  willing  to  invest  his  time  and  efforts  in 
making  the  Shaw  play  and  to  try  to  create  a  new 
star  for  the  role  of  Joan.  The  film  was  a  failure. 
They  felt  his  previous  successes  earned 
Preminger  the  right  to  experiment. 

WHAT    MARTY    DID 

WHEN  Burt  Lancaster  and  his  business 
partner,  Harold  Hecht,  asked  for  a  UA 
deal  on  a  picture  they  wanted  to  make  out  of 
the  TV  play  "Marty"  Benjamin  and  Krim  went 
along  with  some  hesitation.  There  was  a  risk— 
the  film  had  no  box-office  star— but  it  was 
budgeted  for  only  $300,000.  Even  if  it  were  a 
dead  loss— which  UA  considered  possible— the 
previous  successes  of  Hecht-Lancaster  would 
more  than  cover  it. 

What  happened,  of  course,  was  that  "Marty" 
became  a  runaway  favorite  with  critics  and  pub- 
lic. It  made  $3,000,000  in  the  U.S.  and  another 
$2,000,000  abroad. 

There  are  certain  other  special  problems 
which  arise  because  as  many  as  fifty  independent 
producers  are  making  films  for  UA.  Not  lout; 
ago,  for  example,  two  UA  producers  were  bid- 
ding for  Nevil  Shute's  apocalyptic  On  the 
Beach.  The  price  went  to  $75,000  when  nor- 
mally the  book  might  easily  have  been  picked 
up  for,  say,  $40,000. 

"They  bid  and  bid  and  in  I  he  end  we'll  fiave 
to  pay  for  the  extra,"  Benjamin  comments 
dourly.  "Still,"  he  brightened,  "we  might  have 
had  four  of  our  producers  bidding  for  it." 

At  one  period  lour  of  their  producers  were 
simultaneously  working  on  plans  to  make  a  film 


biography  of  Goya.  Which  one  would  UA  favor? 
A  ground  rule  was  established:  the  producer  who 
was  first  to  get  the  consent  of  the  Spanish  gov- 
ernment and  the  Duke  of  Alba's  descendants- 
imagine  making  the  picture  without  the  nude- 
would  get  the  nod.  The  winner?  Ava  Gardner's 
Titanus  Films.    She  will  play  the  Duchess. 

Like  most  successful  revolutionaries  Benjamin 
and  Krim  neither  look  nor  act  the  part.  Their 
fourteenth-floor  connecting  offices  on  Seventh 
Avenue  in  New  York  are  good-sized  but  simply 
and  decorously  furnished.  Both  men  are  mild 
and  inconspicuous  in  dress  and  speech,  around 
the  same  age  and  the  same  medium  height;  and 
both  are  bothered  by  a  tendency  toward  putting 
on  weight. 

Benjamin,  who  is  forty-eight,  is  the  slightly 
older  member  of  the  team.  (Nearly  all  the  other' 
top  executives  in  the  film  industry  are  in  their 
sixties  and  seventies,  incidentally.)  He  was  born 
in  the  Williamsburg  section  of  Brooklyn— the 
first  step  upward  in  the  exodus  of  the  immigrant 
Jews  from  the  lower  East  Side  of  Manhattan. 
His  mother  ran  a  fish  store.  Even  while  he  was 
in  high  school  he  contributed  to  his  own  support 
by  working  as  an  office  boy  for  the  New  York 
Film  Board  of  Trade.  From  New  York's  City 
College,  which  he  attended  in  the  evening,  he 
went  on  to  night  law  school  and  a  clerk's  job 
with  the  law  firm  of  Phillips,  Nizer  where  his 
uncle,  Louis  Phillips,  was  senior  partner.  In 
19.9>l  he  was  graduated  with  honors  from  Ford- 
ham  Law  School  and  the  following  year  began 
his  practice  with  Phillips,  Nizer. 

Krim  grew  up  in  comfortable,  suburban 
Mount  Vernon,  New  York,  where  he  was  presi- 
dent of  his  high-school  graduating  class  and 
captain  of  the  cross-country  track  team.  His 
father  owned  a  large  string  of  cafeterias.  In 
Columbia  College  he  majored  in  history  and 
became  head  of  the  debating  team.  He  was 
elected  to  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  won  the  Elsberg  His- 
tory Prize,  and  was  urged  to  stay  on  for  graduate 
studies  in  history  with  the  promise  of  a  fellow- 
ship and  a  possible  instructor's  post  to  help  him 
get  his  Ph.  I).  Krim  was  tempted,  but  his  lather 
persuaded  him  to  study  law.  Ai  Columbia  Law 
School  he  was  first  in  his  class  and  editor  in 
chief  of  the  Law  Review.  Alter  graduation  he 
turned  down  several  offers  from  Wall  Street  law 
offices  and  went  to  work  for  Phillips,  Nizer, 
where  he  and  Bob  Benjamin  soon  became  good 
li  lends. 

Phillips,  Nizer  represented  many  lilm  com- 
panies which  were  being  sued  by  the  Depart- 
ment ol  Justice,  so  the  two  young  lawyers  learned 


46 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


a  great  deal  about  movie  law,  personalities, 
theater  operation,  and  anti-trust  laws.  In  1938 
they  were  made  senior  partners  and  the  firm 
became  what  it  is  today:  Phillips,  Ni/er,  Benja- 
min and  Krim,  considered  by  some  the  ablest 
law  firm  in  the  film  industry. 

During  the  war  Benjamin  served  as  executive 
officer  at  the  Army's  Motion  Picture  Photogra- 
phic Center  and  rose  to  the  rank  of  major.  He 
also  helped  supervise  the  photographic  coverage 
of  D-day  in  Normandy.  Krim.  who  ended  as  a 
lieutenant-colonel,  handled  special  assignments 
in  the  U.  S.  and  the  Pacific  Theater  for  Under 
Secretary  of  War  Robert  S.  Patterson.  A  few 
weeks  out  of  uniform,  Benjamin  became  head 
of  the  }.  Arthur  Rank  Organization  in  America, 
a  director  of  Universal  Pictures,  and  vice  presi- 
dent of  the  newly  formed  United  World  Pictures. 
He  was,  Variety  wrote  admiringly,  "The  man 
with  three  hats."  Krim,  less  ebullient,  was  con- 
tent merely  to  be  president  of  Eagle-Lion  films. 
Both  remained  partners  in  their  law  firm. 

Krim's  first  experience  with  movie  business 
proved  unhappy;  he  and  Eagle-Lion's  founder, 
Robert  R.  Young,  the  railroad  financier,  dashed 
regularly  and  in  1949  Krim  returned  to  his  law 
firm  full-time.  He  handled  some  negotiations 
but  spent  more  time  than  usual  reading  the  film 
trade  press.  Inevitably  he  began  to  follow  the 
decline  and  threatened  fall  of  United  Artists,  the 
last  privately  held  major  film  company  in  the 
United  States. 

MORE    THAN     MONEY 

WHEN  it  was  formed  by  Mary  Pickford, 
Charles  Chaplin,  D.  W.  Griffith,  and 
Douglas  Fairbanks  in  1919,  UA's  main  purpose 
was  "to  improve  the  photoplay  industry  and  its 
artistic  standards,  and  the  methods  of  marketing 
photoplays." 

It  did  just  that;  it  also  made  money— for  its 
owners  and  for  many  other  independent  pro- 
ducers whose  films  it  distributed  all  over  the 
world.  But  by  1949  with  two  of  the  original 
founders  dead  and  only  one  of  the  remaining 
two— Chaplin— still  making  an  occasional  film  the 
company  was  in  trouble.  There  simply  was  not 
enough  independent  production  to  keep  its  net- 
work of  film  exchanges  busy. 

Among  those  volunteering  to  try  to  patch 
up  the  remains  was  Paul  V.  McNutt,  former 
Governor  of  Indiana,  American  Legion  Com- 
mander, and  Presidential  hopeful.  Max  Kravetz, 
a  minor  movie  promoter  who  had  won  Mary 
Pickford's   confidence,    had    met    McNutt   on    a 


Pullman  diner  one  night  and  persuaded  him 
that  he  was  just  the  man  UA  needed.  Impressed 
with  McNutt's  stature  and  promises,  Pickford 
and  Chaplin  made  him  UA  chairman.  Alter 
many  hopeless  months  McNutt  desperately  be- 
gan seeking  a  way  out:  he  couldn't  possibly  raise 
the  $15,000,000  which  everyone  knew  UA  needed 
to  get  on  its  feet  again.  If  he  didn't  jump  last 
he  would  be  saddled  with  the  UA  bankruptcy. 

To  his  rescue  came  a  friend  of  Benjamin's 
and  Kihn's  named  Matty  Fox,  a  heavy-set,  color- 
1  ii  1  film  industry  executive  who  is  currently  push- 
ing Skiatron,  a  toll  TV  scheme.  In  September 
1950,  Fox  arranged  a  dinner  party  in  his  New 
York  penthouse  so  that  his  friends  could  talk  to 
McNutt.  Money  alone,  they  told  him,  couldn't 
make  films.  UA  had  to  win  back  the  confidence 
of  the  few  remaining  independent  producers 
who  were  still  in  business.  Most  of  them  were 
withholding  their  pictures  from  UA  because 
they  were  sure  the  firm  was  about  to  go  into 
bankruptcy. 

McNutt,  impressed,  recommended  the  pair  to 
Pickford  and  Chaplin.  In  February  1951,  after 
several  months  of  fitful  discussion,  Krim  made 
his  last  offer:  Krim  and  Benjamin  would  be 
made  trustees  for  100  per  cent  of  the  UA  stock 
so  that  they  could  operate  the  firm.  Half  of  the 
company's  16,000  shares  would  be  set  aside  in 
escrow  for  them.  If  in  any  one  of  the  next  three 
years  the  pair  succeeded  in  getting  UA  into  the 
black— it  was  then  losing  money  at  the  rate  of 
5100,000  a  week— they  would  be  allowed  to  buy 
the  8,000  shares  for  a  nominal  $1  a  share.  They 
also  asked  for  a  ten-day  option  to  see  what  kind 
of  operational  cash  they  could  raise.  Chaplin 
and  Pickford  accepted. 

In  a  day  Benjamin  and  Krim  were  able  to 
borrow  $500,000  from  Spyros  Skouras,  the  head 
of  Twentieth  Century  Fox,  who  was  a  good 
friend  of  theirs;  he  felt  that  a  major  bankruptcy 
in  the  film  field— even  that  of  a  competitor- 
would  be  bad  for  the  whole  industry.  But  money 
is  not  handed  out  on  sentiment  alone  in  the 
movie  business:  UA  had  to  agree  to  give  DeLuxe 
Laboratories,  a  Twentieth  Century  Fox  sub- 
sidiary, its  film  processing  work.  In  Chicago, 
Walter  E.  Heller,  a  brilliant  and  friendly  finan- 
cier who  had  made  many  large  movie  loans,  put 
up  $3,000,000  at  12  per  cent,  his  normal  fee, 
against  weekly  receipts  taken  in  by  the  ninety 
UA  film  exchanges. 

With  three  and  a  half  million  dollars  in 
cushion  money  against  failure  Krim  and  Ben- 
jamin exercised  their  option  and  took  control 
of  UA.    Most  of  their  confidence  stemmed  from 


WHAT    TWO    LAWYERS    ARE    DOING    TO    HOLLYWOOD 


47 


the  availability  as  partners  of  three  of  their 
friends  who  were  leading  specialists  in  their 
fields:  William  J.  Heineman,  domestic  sales; 
Arnold  Picker,  foreign  sales;  and  Max  E.  Young- 
stein  to  direct  advertising,  publicity,  exploitation 
and  handle  liaison  with  producers.  These  men 
came  in  as  vice  presidents,  at  reduced  salaries 
but  with  UA  stock  rights. 

To  check  on  their  foreign  operation  Benjamin 
and  Krim  went  to  Europe.  In  Paris  they  discov- 
ered that  the  UA  employees  had  so  little  to  do 
that  on  any  warm  day  a  quorum  of  them  could 
be  found  at  the  Longchamps  track.  The  partners 
checked  the  books  and  records  and  late  one  after- 
noon at  the  George  V  Hotel  faced  an  alarming 
fact:  UA  owed  $1,000,000  they  had  not  known 
about.  No  matter  how  much  money  was  lent 
them  there  was  no  way  out  unless  they  could  get 
dozens  of  pictures  into  the  distribution  pipeline 
almost  at  once. 

There  was  one  faint  hope:  Eagle-Lion,  Krim's 
old  firm,  was  in  trouble.  Krim  offered  his  former 
employer,  Robert  R.  Young,  $500,000  for  dis- 
tribution contracts  for  150  pictures.  Young, 
anxious  to  liquidate,  accepted,  and  the  films 
were  soon  grossing  $200,000  a  week  for  UA.  The 
worst  was  over.  In  December  1951  UA  was  in  the 
black  for  the  first  time  in  five  years.  In  March 
1952  an  independent  audit  confirmed  the  fact 
and  Benjamin  and  Krim  received  the  8,000 
shares  of  UA  stock  held  in  escrow  until  they 
could  show  a  profit. 

They  got  more  encouragement  when  their 
Chicago  friend,  Walter  Heller,  who  had  financed 
the  making  of  "The  African  Queen"  with 
Humphrey  Bogart  and  Katharine  Hepburn,  per- 
suaded the  producer,  Sam  Spiegel,  to  give  the 
film's  distribution  to  UA.  It  was  an  enormous 
hit  and  their  first  "quality"  picture. 

THE    TWO-HEADED     MONSTER 

SINCE  then  UA  has  gone  on  to  greater 
and  greater  years,  pouring  its  mounting 
profits  back  into  more  producion.  The  partners 
have  financed  and  distributed  a  few  films  which 
they  personally  liked  and  which  also  made  a 
great  deal  of  money,  like  "Moulin  Rouge," 
"Marty,"  and  "High  Noon."  ("If  we  made  pic- 
tures for  my  personal  taste  only,"  Krim  once 
noted  wryly,  "we'd  go  broke.")  They  have  been 
further  blessed  with  such  commercial  successes 
as  "Trapeze,"  "Not  as  a  Stranger,"  and  "Around 
the  World  in  80  Days,"  which  promises  to  be 
one  of  the  biggest  money  makers  in  motion- 
picture  history. 


In  1956  Chaplin  sold  his  remaining  25  per 
cent  interest  in  UA  to  Benjamin  and  Krim,  and 
a  year  later  Mary  Pickford  did  the  same  with  her 
stock.  In  June  1957  the  privately  held  UA  stock 
was  sold  to  the  public  in  the  form  of  common 
stock  and  convertible  debentures  for  a  net  return 
to  UA  of  $14,100,000  which  is  being  used  to 
finance  new  film  productions.  The  issue  is  now 
listed  on  the  New  York  Stock  Exchange. 

The  deal  left  Benjamin  and  Krim  still  in  con- 
trol of  the  company.  The  biggest  single  block 
of  stock,  310,000  shares,  is  owned  jointly  by 
them.  Several  thousand  stockholders  bought 
350,000  shares,  and  the  four  key  vice  presidents 
and  partners  received  77,000  shares  each. 

The  president's  and  chairman's  weekly  pay- 
checks are  surprisingly  small— $1,000  a  week  each. 
Another  $150,000  a  year  is  paid  their  law  firm, 
where  they  are  still  partners,  for  legal  counsel. 
For  the  heads  of  a  major— and  very  profitable— 
film  company  this  is  modest  compensation.  The 
usual  going  rate  is  between  $2,500  and  $4,000 
a  week  for  the  head  man.  On  the  other  hand 
any  one  of  UA's  fifty  producers  or  stars  can 
make  between  one  and  two  million  dollars  on  a 
successful  picture,  on  a  moderately  successful  one, 
at  least  $500,000. 

In  the  anxiety-ridden  film  industry  the  UA 
success  story  has  been  raked  through  again  and 
again  for  the  magic  talisman.  Some,  envious, 
attribute  it  simply  to  dumb  luck;  Benjamin  and 
Krim  came  along  at  the  right  moment  with  a  lot 
of  cheap  pictures  just  when  the  major  studios 
were  concentrating  on  "quality"  films.  The  ex- 
hibitors, starved  for  products  for  their  middle- 
of-the-week  shows,  naturally  turned  to  UA. 

"It  was  a  changing  industry  and  they  were 
equipped  for  change,"  a  competitor  says.  "They 
had  nothing  to  lose  but  their  reputations." 

Another  film  man  comments:  "Only  lawyers 
could  do  what  they  did.  They  come  from  a 
profession  where  there  is  practically  no  overhead 
investment.  They  sell  services  so  they're  im- 
pressed only  by  what  you  do,  not  what  you  own. 
Also  they  didn't  have  the  tremendous  overhead 
of  studios,  expensive  executives  who  were  your 
friends  from  the  Year  One  and  had  to  be  carried, 
and  costly  contracts  with  aging  stars.  The  only- 
contracts  they  made  were  for  pictures— some- 
thing negotiable.  How  could  they  lose?"  (Ben- 
jamin and  Krim  demur.  They  attribute  most 
of  the  UA  success  to  "the  strength  and  quality 
of  our  partners.") 

The  industry  also  has  considerable  curiosity 
about  how  its  only  "two-headed  monster,"  as 
Benjamin  and  Krim  sometimes  call  themselves, 


48 


HARPERS     MAGAZINE 


works   and   shares   powers,   money,   and   honors. 

"It's  really  Arthur's  show,"  Benjamin  insists. 
"He  dreamed  up  the  package,  negotiated  with 
UA,  and  worked  the  Eagle-Lion  deal." 

In  practice,  however,  the  partners  operate  on 
a  basis  of  complete  equality  with  no  discernible 
division  of  powers.  Either  one  can  make  a  major 
decision  in  the  other's  absence  alter  twenty-five 
years  of  close  association  each  knows  exactly 
how  tlie  othei   will  react  to  a  given  proposal. 

Some  prefer  to  deal  with  Benjamin.  He  is 
warm,  outgoing,  and  diplomatic  when  he  wants 
to  be.  He  is  also  epiie  ker  to  catch  a  producer's 
contagions  enthusiasm  lot  his  new  project.  Since 
he  has  been  around  the  industry  lot  thirty  three 
years  he  knows  jusi  about  everybody  in  it.  He 
also  deals  with  some  UA  talent  who  are  a  little 
afraid  of  Krim;  his  swift,  analytic  intelligence 
and  ability  to  find  the  weak  spot  in  a  proposed 
deal  in  ten  seconds  Hat  is  disconcerting. 

Krim,  a  bachelor,  has  bought  a  town  house 
near  Sutton  Place  where  he  lives  with  two  ser- 
vants. He  listens  to  his  vast  collection  of  records, 
reads  prodigiously,  dates  some  actress  friends, 
travels  a  lot,  worries  considerably  about  the  gam- 
bles he  and  his  partner  are  making  every  week— 
UA  has  committed  some  sixty  million  dollars  to 
future  films— and  occasionally  muses  on  what  it 
might  have  been  like  to  be  a  history  professor  at 
Columbia.  A  liberal  Democrat,  he  worked  ac- 
tively and  contributed  generously  to  the  1952 
and  1956  Stevenson  campaigns. 

In  1949  Benjamin  married  a  pretty,  bright 
English  girl  named  Jean  Holt.  The  Benjamins 
live  in  a  large,  comfortable  house  in  the  pros- 
perous suburb  of  Kings  Point  with  a  huge  boxer, 
a  small  swimming  pool,  and  two  children.  Their 
home  was   a   frequent   rallying   point   for   local 


Stevenson-for-President  groups  in  '52  and  '56. 
Nearly  all  of  their  close  friends  are  non-movie 
people  with  medium  incomes. 

Benjamin  and  Krim  have  given  much  thought 
to  the  impact  that  any  widespread  system  ol  loll 
TV  might  have  on  them.  By  making  it  possible 
lot  a  produce]  to  get  an  almost  immediate  return 
on  his  investment  without  going  through  the 
usual  (dm  financing  and  distributing  channels  it 
might  ob\  iate  the  need  lor  many  of  I'.Vs  present 
functions. 

\t  the  very  worst,"  Benjamin  says,  "there  will 
still  be  the  need  for  foreign  distribution,  which 
accounts  lor  nearly  50  per  cent  of  a  film's  gross 
today,  but  I  think  toll  TV  showing  of  new  films 
won't  be  a  set  ions  problem  to  us  until  the\  per- 
fect the  wall,  or  mural,  TV  set  which  is  stilj  only 
a  laboratoi  v  ghmnie  k." 

Meanwhile  at  least  $5,000,000  of  l'A\  esti- 
mated $70,000,000  gross  income  in  1957  came 
from  the  sale  of  its  older  films  to  TV. 

Some  competitors  see  Benjamin  and  Krim  as 
cool,  calculating,  fantastically  lucky  gamblers. 
The  partners  are  amused  at  this  idea. 

"The  real  trouble  with  Bob  and  me,"  Krim 
explains,  "is  that  we  do  not  have  gamblers'  tem- 
peraments. There  are  times  when  the  mounting 
strain  of  our  continuing  sixty-million-dollar  gam- 
ble on  talent  gets  rough  and  I  turn  to  Bob  and 
say:  'What  the  hell  are  we  doing  in  this  business?' 
Then   Bob  says,   'You   know  anything   better?' 

"Fortunately,  there  are  compensations  above 
and  beyond  money.  My  work  gives  me  a  sense 
of  creativity,  synthetic  creation,  if  you  will,  but 
creation  nevertheless.  I  like  to  think  that  in  our 
years  at  UA  there  will  be  perhaps  a  do/en  pic- 
tures made  that  wouldn't  have  been  made  if  we 
weren't  around." 


RAH! 


W 


ALT  HAM  High  School  last  year  spent  $7,334  more  on  athletics  than  it  did 
on  both  science  and  mathematics  combined,  the  School  Committee  learned  last 
night.  .  .  .  [Superintendent  John  W.  McDevitt  said]  that  1,445  pupils  participated 
in  athletics  while  only  1,233  studied  either  mathematics  or  science.  Total 
expenditures  in  the  two  fields  were  $60,000  for  athletics  and  $52,666  for  math 
and  science.  .  .  . 

Vice  Chairman  Frederick  f.  Christiansen  said  a  problem  of  American  educa- 
tion centers  on  the  fact  "that  no  one  seems  to  know  what  should  be  expected 
from  a  school  system  besides  a  winning  football  team." 

Waltham  High  School  now  has  a  football  team  on  the  way  to  a  Class  A  title. 

—Boston  Herald,  November  21,    1957. 


John  W.  Gardner 


How  to  Choose  a  College, 

If  Any 


The  President  of  the  Carnegie  Corporation — 

who  knows  a  great  deal  about  American 

colleges — offers  some  practical  suggestions 

to  students  and  parents  grappling  with 

one  of  the  most  agonizing  of  family  problems. 

OVER  the  dinner  table  this  winter  several 
million  Americans  will  argue  the  same 
perplexing  questions:  Should  Johnny  (or  Jane) 
go  to  college?  And  if  so,  to  which  college? 

The  Johnnies  and  Janes,  a  million  or  more  of 
them,  will  participate  actively  or  passively, 
wholeheartedly  or  resentfully,  while  mothers, 
fathers,  sisters,  and  brothers  pull  and  haul  at  a 
problem  they  only  partly  understand.  All  of 
them  deserve  more  help  than  they  are  likely  to 
get. 

It  is  not  easy  to  arrive  at  answers  that  will 
hold  good  for  the  great  variety  of  people  who 
face  the  college  decision.  There  are  boys  and 
girls  at  every  level  of  ability;  ambitious  ones  and 
lethargic  ones;  those  who  want  education  that 
will  show  a  quick  payoff  and  those  willing  to 
build  for  the  long  future.  There  are  wealthy 
parents  and  poor  parents;  highly  educated 
parents  and  the  barely  literate;  those  who  want 
their  boy  to  study  Greek  and  those  who  want 
their  boy  to  study  air  conditioning.  Yet  there  are 
some  things  which  hold  true  for  all  oi  them. 

Let  us  begin  at  beginning.  How  far  should 
young  men  and  women  make  their  own  choice 
of  a  college?  The  old-fashioned  answer  was  un- 
equivocal: mother  and  father  knew  best.  Then 
the  swing  of  the  pendulum  brought  a  generation 
of  parents  who  leaned  too  far  in  the  other  direc- 
tion. Now  that  we  have  experienced  both  ex- 
tremes, we  may  be  in  a  position  to  be  sensible. 


It  is  true  that  parents  are  apt  to  be  more 
experienced  in  making  such  decisions,  and  that 
they  understand  things  about  their  youngster 
that  he  does  not  understand  himself.  But  given 
the  rapidity  of  educational  change,  it  is  not 
necessarily  true  that  parents  are  better  informed 
than  their  children  about  the  matters  that  really 
count.  Selection  of  a  college  is  full  of  intangibles, 
and  young  men  and  women  are  often  the  best 
judges  of  some  of  them.  Furthermore,  college  is 
the  beginning  of  the  young  person's  independent 
life,  and  if  he  is  mature  enough  to  attend  college, 
he  is  mature  enough  to  choose  his  college. 
Parents  may  put  information  at  his  disposal,  and 
if  he  is  undecided,  may  help  him  to  make  up  his 
mind.   But  the  decision  is  not  theirs. 


IS     COLLEGE     NECESSARY  f 

THE  first  question,  of  course,  is  whether  to 
go  to  college  at  all.  This  decision  should  be 
explored  as  early  in  the  student's  high-school 
career  as  possible,  so  that  he  can  take  the  appro- 
priate preparatory  subjects. 

Whether  the  student  is  college  material  is  not 
a  mystery  to  be  solved  only  by  college  admissions 
officers.  If  a  parent  does  not  smother  the  evi- 
dence in  emotional  defenses  and  wishful  think- 
ing, he  can  arrive  at  a  fairly  sound  notion  of  his 
child's  abilities.  Parents  often  overestimate  their 
child's  abilities,  for  the  understandable— but  pro- 
foundly regrettable— reason  that  their  vanity  re- 
fuses to  accept  any  other  appraisal.  Just  as  often 
they  underestimate  his  talents  because  they  resent 
his  not  coming  up  to  standards  they  have  set 
for  him,  or  because  they  are  unwilling  to  judge 
him  in  terms  of  his  own  age  level. 

Although  parents  can  get  valuable  evidence 
outside  of  school  concerning  their  youngster's 
talents,  the  most  relevant  information  for  college 


50 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


performance    is    school    performance.     The    im- 
portant question  is: 

"How  does  he  do  in  his  straight  'academic' 
subjects:  history,  science,  languages,  and— above 
all— English  and  mathematics?" 

Though  teachers  may  be  reluctant  to  make 
general  judgments  about  a  child's  capacity,  they 
will  usually  talk  freely  about  his  work  in  specific 
subjects  and  are  almost  always  willing  to  give 
some  indication  ol  where  lie  stands  in  his  class. 
Aptitude  and  achievement  tests  will  provide  use- 
ful additional  data  to  be  weighed  with  all  of  the 
other  evidence. 

Every  youngster  should  be  encouraged  to  know 
his  own  potentialities  and  to  weigh  the  chances 
ol  developing  them.  This  may  seem  like  crush- 
ingh  obvious  advice,  vet  a  great  many  gilted 
young  men  and  women  fail  to  apply  to  college 
simply  because  no  one  eve  1  bothered  lo  awaken 
them  to  their  own  potentialities  and  to  a  sense 
of  what  college  could  mean  in   their  lives. 

This  is  not  to  say  that  all  able  boys  and  girls 
should  go  to  college.  They  may  choose  to  de- 
velop their  talents  in  some  other  way,  or  they 
ma)  choose  not  lo  develop  them  at  all;  everyone 
has  an  inalienable  right  to  waste  his  talent  if  he 
wants  to.  But  every  talented  youngster  should 
understand  that  he  can  better  serve  both  himself 
and  his  country  if  he  develops  his  native  stilts. 

On  the  other  hand  if  the  youngster  is  obvi- 
ously not  college  material,  he  needs  just  as  much 
constructive  concern  for  his  future.  There  is  in 
this  country  a  distressing  over-emphasis  on  col- 
lege education  as  a  guarantor  of  economic  suc- 
cess, social  acceptability,  and  general  human 
worth.  Since  little  more  than  one  out  of  three 
Americans  go  to  college  even  today,  it  is  disturb- 
ing to  encounter  this  widespread  feeling  that 
only  a  college  education  confers  human  dignity 
and  the  right  to  hold  one's  head  up  in  the  world. 
Nothing  could  be  sillier.  College  should  be  re- 
garded as  one  kind  of  education  beyond  high 
school,  suitable  for  those  whose  particular  apti- 
tudes and  motivations  fit  them  for  it.  The  other 
two  out  of  three  will  seek  other  kinds  of  oppor- 
tunities lor  learning  and  personal  development. 

The  greatest  problem  lor  parents,  of  course,  is 
the  large  borderline  group  who  may  or  may  not 
be  suitable  lor  college.  The  colleges  vary  so 
greatly  in  levels  of  difficulty  that  for  such 
students  the  question  can  be  finally  answered 
oidy  with  respect  to  a  specific  college.  While  a 
youth  must  be  exceedingly  bright  to  get  into 
some  of  our  leading  institutions,  he  can  get  into 
others  with  no  more  than  average  intelligence. 
And  he  can  get  into  a  few  even  if  he  is  below 


average,  though  he  is  most  unlikely  to  do  well 
when  he  gets  there. 

The  parent's  exploration  of  possible  choices 
will  be  infinitely  easier  if  he  does  not  approach 
it  with  strong  preconceived  notions  that  his 
youngster  must  go  to  college,  or  must  go  to  a 
specific  institution  that  the  patent  himself  re- 
fuels as  reputable. 

The  question  of  whether  the  high-school  grad- 
uate should  go  to  college  need  not  always  be 
answered  with  a  "yes"  or  "no."  It  may  be 
answered  with  a  "not  now."  Some  boys  and  girls 
need  to  achieve-  a  bit  of  maturity  before  they 
can  understand  the  value  of  education. 

The  "late  bloomer"  is  usually  a  boy.  Girls 
tend  to  develop  in  a  fairly  steady  and  predict- 
able fashion,  but  the  boy  may  go  through  a  pro- 
tracted  period  of  dawdling  and  interest  in  every- 
thing but  his  own  education.  Sometimes  he 
"wakes  up"  when  he  goes  out  to  find  a  job  and 
discovers  the  value  the  world  puts  on  education. 
Sometimes  he  leaves  home  and  discovers  that  his 
resentment  of  education  was  simply  resentment 
of  his  parents.   Sometimes  he  meets  a  girl. 

If  a  young  person  seems  to  have  talents  which 
he  is  not  developing,  his  parents  should  try  to 
help  him  to  find  the  experience  that  will  "wake 
him  up."  Ibis  may  be  a  job,  it  may  be  travel, 
it  may  be  going  away  to  school,  or  it  may  be  one 
or  another  kind  of  discipline.  It  may  mean  just 
keeping  still  and  letting  the  boy  find  his  own 
natural  bent,  instead  of  battering  him  with  argu- 
ments and  threats. 


YOU     NAME     IT, 
WE     HAVE    IT 

TH  E  diversity  of  higher  education  in  the 
United  States  is  unprecedented;  indeed  to 
foreign  visitors  it  is  incredible.  There  is  higher 
education  for  the  extremely  bright  and  for  the 
less  bright,  for  the  future  professional  and  for 
the  future  tradesman.  There  is  higher  education 
with  a  strong  theoretical  bias,  and  higher  educa- 
tion with  a  strong  practical  bias.  There  is  higher 
education  in  an  astonishing  array  of  fields  and 
in  every  kind  of  social  context. 

The  important  questions  posed  by  this  range 
of  choice  are  answerable  only  in  terms  of  the 
needs  of  the  young  person  and  the  kind  of 
environment  that  can  best  provide  him  with 
opportunities  for  growth. 

Consider  the  question  of  size.  The  small 
campus  offers,  in  some  respects,  an  experience  in 
social  living  that  no  large  college  or  university 
can  duplicate;  and  studies  have  shown  that  the 


HOW     TO     CHOOSE     A     COLLEGE,     IF     ANY 


51 


youngster's  relationships  with  fellow  students 
and  faculty  can  be  immensely  important  in  his 
education.  Some  youngsters  seem  to  need  the 
support  of  a  small  and  tightly-knit  community 
of  students  and  faculty,  and  to  value  the  vivid 
sense  of  belonging  to  it.  One  cannot  "get  lost" 
on  a  small  campus,  any  more  than  in  a  small 
town. 

Others  feel  hemmed  in  by  these  very  qualities. 
They  welcome  the  comparative  anonymity  and 
impersonality  of  the  big  university  where,  as  in 
the  big  city,  they  can  sample  different  worlds, 
live  their  own  lives,  and  explore  new  paths  of 
personal  development  without  community  moni- 
toring. The  large  institutions,  furthermore,  can 
usually  offer  to  students  richer  and  more  varied 
resources. 

Another  familiar  question  is  whether  the 
student  should  go  to  a  college  next  door,  in  the 
next  city,  or  a  thousand  miles  away.  By  living 
at  home  and  attending  a  college  in  the  same  city, 
he  can  reduce  his  expenses  and  extend  his  ac- 
quaintance among  the  people  with  whom  he 
may  be  associating  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

Balanced  against  this,  there  are  considerable 
advantages  to  a  youngster  in  seeing  and  living  in 
an  unfamiliar  region  of  the  country.  The  indi- 
vidual who  wants  to  know  his  own  nation  had 
better  know  more  than  the  little  world  of  his 
own  upbringing. 

But  this  question  too  must  be  decided  in  terms 
of  the  individual.  Some  young  people  will  profit 
in  maturity,  independence,  and  peace  of  mind 
by  putting  three  thousand  miles  between  them- 
selves and  their  families.  Others  should  be  near 
home.  These  are  matters  of  which  the  youngster 
is  sometimes  a  better  judge  than  are  his  parents. 

Co-education  poses  still  another  problem. 
Those  who  favor  it  argue  that  it  provides  for 
easy  and  normal  relationships  between  young 
men  and  women.  They  see  one  another  casually 
and  frequently  in  everyday  clothes  and  on  their 
everyday  behavior  (so  the  argument  goes)  and 
do  not  live  a  monastic  life  five  days  (more  likely 
four  days)  a  week,  and  then  meet  in  the  artificial 
atmosphere  of  the  "college  weekend,"  with  all  of 
its  tensions  and  "party  manners." 

Others  believe  that  young  men  and  women 
will  work  better  if  the  sexes  are  separated;  that 
they  will  develop  a  more  serious  and  high- 
minded  attitude  toward  the  academic  side  of 
college  if  they  are  not  distracted  by  frivolities; 
and  that  they  will  lead  healthier  emotional  lives 
if  they  are  not  under  the  constant  tension  of 
contact  with  the  opposite  sex.  People  who  take 
this  view  do  not  underrate  the  importance  of  a 


healthy  social  life  between  young  men  and 
women;  they  simply  believe  that  it  should  be 
kept  in  its  place,  and  that  the  main  business  of 
college  is  serious  intellectual  activity. 

There  is  no  pat  answer.  It  might  be  healthy 
for  one  youngster  to  be  exposed  to  the  casual 
give-and-take  of  co-education;  it  might  be  less 
healthy  for  the  next.  The  character  of  the  col- 
lege also  makes  a  difference.  In  some  co-educa- 
tional institutions,  social  life  is  traditionally 
sane,  sober,  and  sensible;  in  others  it  is  hectic. 
Similarly  a  man's  college  or  a  woman's  college 
may  be  a  haven  of  sensible  living  or  it  may  be 
the  base  for  feverish  social  activities. 


PRESTIGE     AND     CAREERS 

TH  E  so-called  "prestige"  colleges  and  uni- 
versities present  a  special  problem.  There 
are  a  dozen  or  so  which  are  known  and  respected 
throughout  the  nation,  and  every  region  has  its 
local  favorites.  As  a  rule,  such  institutions  have 
earned  their  reputation;  they  offer  superb  oppor- 
tunities. But  too  often  H©th  parents  and  young- 
sters feel  that  acceptance  at  a  prestige  institu- 
tion means  success,  and  that  if  the  student  has 
to  attend  any  other  college  he  is  a  failure.  As  a 
result  they  are  unable  to  weigh  dispassionately 
all  the  varied  factors  we  have  been  discussing. 
Even  if  the  young  person  has  the  ability  to  get 
into  the  prestige  institution,  it  may  not  be  the 
best  place  for  him.  And  if  he  does  not  have  the 
ability  to  get  in,  he  may  accept  the  alternative 
with  a  sense  of  being  on  the  discard  heap.  This 
is  not  only  a  regrettably  gloomy  attitude  for  an 
eighteen-year-old,  it  is  also  unrealistic.  The  pres- 
tige institutions  cannot  possibly  take  all  of  the 
able  young  people  who  apply.  And,  in  any  case, 
the  leaders  in  American  life  come  from  a  great 
variety  of  educational  backgrounds.  To  narrow 
the  list  of  appropriate  colleges  to  a  few  glittering 
"big  name"  institutions  is  to  limit  the  range  of 
choice  unnecessarily. 

As  the  high-school  graduate  and  his  parents 
cope  with  the  college  decision,  the  career  ques- 
tion usually  arises,  and  it  is  natural  that  it 
should.  But  it  has  only  limited  relevance  in 
choosing  a  college. 

Many  parents  fear  that  the  youngster  is  delay- 
ing too  long  in  settling  on  the  one  thing  he 
wishes  to  do.  But  the  opposite  error  is  at  least 
as  common— perhaps  more  common:  he  may  close 
too  many  doors  too  soon.  Most  young  people 
have  potentialities  in  more  than  one  direction 
and  no  one  has  the  wisdom  to  know  precisely 
which  of  these  should  be  encouraged.  The  great 


52 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


strategy  with  young  people  is  to  keep  their  de- 
velopment sufficiently  broad  so  that,  when  they 
become  mature  enough  to  decide,  they  can  choose 
among  many  significant  possibilities. 

One  of  the  great  arguments  in  favor  of  a 
good  liberal-arts  education  is  that  it  enables  the 
youngster  to  range  widely  over  the  fundamental 
fields  of  knowledge— the  basic  fields  which  must 
precede  all  sound  professional  education.  These 
fields  equip  a  man  to  be  a  more  intelligent  wage- 
earner  and  a  more  interesting  companion,  to 
understand  himself  and  the  world  around  him, 
to  be  worthy  of  the  responsibilities  democracy 
thrusts  upon  him. 

EXPOSURE     FOR     LIFE 

EVERY  student  who  is  fit  to  attend  college 
at  all  should  expose  himself  to  as  much  of 
the  liberal  arts  as  possible.  If  he  concentrates 
narrowly  in  his  vocational  specialty,  he  may  be 
slightly  more  marketable  in  the  first  year  of  his 
job  life.  But  he  is  not  preparing  himself  solely 
for  the  first  year  of  his  job  life.  He  is  preparing 
himself  for  an  adult  lifetime.  Indeed,  any  job 
skills  he  acquires  in  college  may  be  out  of  date 
by  the  time  his  career  is  in  full  swing. 

The  more  able  the  youngster,  the  more  insist- 
ent he  should  be  upon  the  liberal-arts  ingredient 
in  his  education.  To  put  a  first-class  mind  into 
a  vocational  or  specialist  course  before  he  has 
had  ample  opportunity  to  explore  the  basic  fields 
of  knowledge  is  an  unnecessary  down-grading 
of  human  talent. 

In  general,  the  more  able  the  youngster  the 
more  critically  he  should  weigh  the  educational 
opportunities  open  to  him.  He  should  shop  with 
discrimination  and  accept  only  the  best,  both  in 
choosing  a  college  or  university  and  in  deciding 
what  courses  to  take.  He  should  insist  that  his 
education  provide  him  with  continuous  chal- 
lenge and  intellectual  growth.  He  must  expect 
steady  progress  in  the  comprehension  of  funda- 
mental principles  and  in  the  mastery  of  various 
modes  of  analysis;  and  must  not  sell  these  im- 
portant gains  for  a  mess  of  trivial  information, 
"practical"  techniques,  and  seemingly  "useful" 
know-how  which  will  soon  be  out  of  date. 

The  transition  from  high  school  to  college  is 
a  point  at  which  most  youngsters  are  ready  to 
take  a  long  step  in  the  process  of  "growing  up." 
They  are  prepared  to  put  behind  them  a  whole 
world  of  adolescent  fads  and  to  adopt  new 
attitudes,  new  values,  new  ways  of  looking  at  the 
world. 

In  his  zest  to  take  on  a  more  adult  role,  the 


college  freshman  begins  by  assimilating  super- 
ficial attitudes  and  mannerisms.  In  an  amazingly 
short  time  students  from  the  most  disparate 
backgrounds  will  pick  up  the  slang,  mannerisms, 
modes  of  dress,  and  even  the  subtleties  of  bearing 
which  characterize  a  particular  campus.  In  suc- 
ceeding months  they  will  acquire  some  infinitely 
more  significant  things:  attitudes  toward  their 
own  role  as  college  students,  toward  education, 
the  faculty,  and  the  college  itself,  toward  rela- 
tions between  the  sexes,  and  innumerable  other 
in. liters. 

What  these  attitudes  will  be  depends  to  a  con- 
siderable degree  on  the  college  the  student 
attends.  Each  institution  has  a  style  that  reveals 
itsell  in  countless  ways— in  the  architecture, 
faculty,  campus  traditions,  character  of  the 
student  population,  the  tone  of  the  intellectual 
life. 

Obviously,  then,  both  parents  and  children 
will  scrutinize  the  whole  character  of  the  college 
and  they  will  not  limit  such  scrutiny  to  its 
academic  accomplishments  or  worldly  prestige. 
Clay  should  be  choosy  of  potters!  Is  the  college 
widely  reputed  to  be  a  country  club?  Is  it  gen- 
erally regarded  as  not  having  any  distinctive 
character?  What  kind  of  youngsters  attend  it? 
Is  there  a  tradition  of  serious  work  on  the 
campus?   A  tradition  of  excellence? 

ADVENTURE     AT     A     DISCOUNT 

MANY  of  our  social  critics  have  the  un- 
easy feeling  that  the  younger  generation 
is  too  preoccupied  with  security  and  conformity. 
The  assertion  may  or  may  not  be  true.  But  it 
opens  up  an  interesting  line  of  inquiry.  Do  the 
ranch  house  and  the  convertible  with  tail  fins 
define  the  new  limits  of  the  American  vision? 

We  no  longer  have  the  conditions  of  hardship 
which  once  served  as  a  sharp  spur  for  many 
people.  We  are  richer,  more  comfortable,  more 
contented  than  ever  in  our  history.  Small  won- 
der that  as  a  nation  we  are  somewhat  inclined 
to  doze  off  in  front  of  our  television  sets.  Small 
wonder  that  we  are  beginning  to  act  as  though 
we  have  no  pressing  engagements. 

But  we  do  have  pressing  engagements.  Let  us 
make  no  mistake  about  it.  Vigor  and  spirit, 
intelligence  and  courage  are  still  the  conditions 
of  survival. 

Let  us  look  at  some  specific  problems.  The 
United  States  is  engaged  in  a  fateful  effort  to 
maintain  its  position  of  leadership  and  responsi- 
bility in  the  world.  In  the  service  of  this  great 
objective,  it  is  engaged  in  a  multitude  of  activi- 


HOW     TO     CHOOSE     A     COLLEGE,     IF     ANY 


53 


ties  all  over  the  globe.  And  the  men  involved 
in  those  activities  unanimously  testify  that  the 
greatest  problem  they  face  is  the  inability  to 
recruit  able  and  well-trained  individuals.  This 
must  surely  strike  the  disinterested  observer  as 
strange:  an  enormously  wealthy  and  powerful 
nation  attempting  to  carry  through  operations 
of  profound  importance  for  its  own  future  can- 
not find  men  and  women  able  to  do  the  job. 
They  exist— but  they  cannot  be  persuaded  to 
choose  overseas  careers! 

The  drama  is  repeated  elsewhere.  Government 
agencies  cannot  find  enough  able  men  and 
women  to  perform  vital  tasks  on  the  domestic 
front.  There  are  not  enough  men  going  into 
basic  research,  not  enough  men  and  women 
going  into  teaching. 

Where  are  the  young  men  going?  The  answer 
is  simple:  they  are  going  after  high  salaries,  fat 
pension  arrangements,  job  security,  stability. 
The  adventurous,  exciting  jobs— the  jobs  which 
involve  dedication  and  a  willingness  to  serve  a 
larger  cause— mean  little.  Security  and  stability 
seem  to  mean  everything. 

The  younger  generation  has  been  heavily  be- 
labored for  this  attitude.  But  anyone  who  can- 
not see  in  it  the  fine  hand  of  the  parents  has  not 
talked  to  many  fathers  and  mothers  of  college- 
age  children.  It  is  an  understatement  to  say  that 
they  are  not  adventurous  for  their  children. 
They  are  profoundly  and  incurably  unadven- 
turous.  And  understandably  so.  Most  of  them 
grew  up  during  hard  times.  They  do  not  want 
their  children  to  suffer  as  they  did.  They  hope 
that  somehow  they  can  save  them  all  the  foolish 
mistakes,  the  blind  alleys,  the  regrets  and  the 
detours  that  characterized  their  own  lives.  Faced 
with  decisions  for  their  children,  they  favor  the 
conventional  over  the  unconventional,  the  easy 
over  the  difficult,  the  secure  over  the  risky. 

Such  attitudes  on  the  part  of  parents  are 
neither  new  nor  surprising.  But  American 
parents  today  are  in  a  better  position  than  any 
parents  in  .history  to  achieve  their  objectives. 
Today,  aside  from  the  problem  of  military  ser- 
vice, they  can  go  very  far  in  creating  a  stable 
and  secure  environment  for  their  youngster. 
Having  done  so,  and  having  wound  him  up  like 
an  eight-day  clock,  they  can  set  him  ticking  in 
his  beneficent  environment,  confident  that  he 
will  whir  quietly  along  until  he  runs  down. 

But  such  meticulous  planning  is  the  enemy 
of  vitality  and  ferment  and  growth  in  a  society. 
Throughout  our  history  we  have  profited  enor- 
mously by  the  recklessness  of  our  young  people, 
by  their  hunger  for  new  horizons,  by  their  will- 


Not  with  a  Bang 


IF  THIS  be  the  whole  fruit  of  the  vic- 
tory, we  say;  if  the  generations  of 
mankind  suffered  and  laid  down  their 
lives;  if  prophets  and  martyrs  sang  in 
the  fire,  and  all  the  sacred  tears  were 
shed  for  no  other  end.  than  that  a  race  of 
creatures  of  such  unexampled  insipidity 
should  succeed,  and  protract  in  saecula 
saeculorum  their  contented  and  inoffen- 
sive lives— why,  at  such  a  rate,  better  lose 
than  win  the  .battle,  or  at  all  events 
better  ring  down  the  curtain  before  the 
last  act  of  the  play,  so  that  a  business 
that  began  so  importantly  may  be  saved 
from  so  singularly  flat  a  winding-up. 

—William  James,    The   Will  to 
Believe,   1897. 


ingness  to  make  sacrifices  and  to  seek  something 
without  knowing  what  they  sought. 

American  youngsters  have  not  changed.  They 
are  as  brave  and  adventurous,  as  high-spirited 
and  generous  as  ever.  What  may  have  changed 
is  our  capacity  to  evoke  these  qualities. 

Parents  can  do  a  great  deal  to  give  the  young 
man  or  woman  a  sense  of  the  opportunities  and 
challenges  that  the  world  holds.  Never  in  any 
other  country  at  any  other  time  have  the  general 
run  of  young  people  been  faced  with  such  an 
extraordinary  range  of  possibilities.  The  young 
American  stands  with  the  world  before  him— 
surely  a  more  exciting  world  than  it  has  ever 
been. 

American  society  invites  the  individual  to 
participate  in  as  little  or  as  much  of  that  excite- 
ment as  he  wishes.  His  participation  is  limited 
only  by  his  capacities,  his  strength,  and  his 
motivation,  ft  is  almost  incredible  when  one 
stops  to  think  about  it  that,  with  these  challenges 
and  these  opportunities,  so  many  youngsters  drift 
off  into  vacuous  little  private  worlds  (complete 
with  rumpus  room  and  television  set),  as  insu- 
lated from  their  era  as  though  they  were  en- 
tombed in  a  time  capsule. 

No  doubt  it  is  expecting  too  much  to  ask 
parents  to  encourage  a  certain  recklessness  in 
their  sons  and  daughters.  But  conceivably  they 
could  be  persuaded  to  take  a  more  hospitable 
view  of  experimentation.  The  best-laid  plans 
may  offer  the  least  opportunity  for  growth.  Many 


54 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


of  the  most,  importam  lessons  learned  in  the 
course  of  any  life  grow  out  oi  the  mistakes,  the 
retreats,  and  the  seemingly  unprofitable  meander- 
ing. We  shall  have  lost  something  valuable  in 
human  experience  il  we  ever  become  so  efficient 
that  we  can  unfailingly  set  every  youngster  on 
the  path  that  he  will  travel  for  the  rest  of  his  life 
l>\  the  time  he  leaves  high  school. 

In  short,  parents  should  nol  assume  that  t lie 
only  possible  objective  tor  their  sons  and  daugh- 
ters is  comfort  and  senility.  The)  should  be 
hospitable  to  the  vitality  that  expresses  itself  in 
chance-taking.  They  should  accept  cheerfully  and 
even  admiringly  those  deep  convictions  that  lead 
young  people  into  some  ol  the  less  profitable  but 
more  challenging  careers.    They  would  do  well 


to  be  somewhat  humble  about  their  capacity  to 
know  what  is  good  for  iheii  children  or  to 
know  the  factors  (hat  make  foi  human  happi- 
ness. Vnd  in  equipping  them  for  the  years  ahead 
the)  must  confess  their  profound  incapacity  to 
piedicl  the  future  ol  the  world  and  the  future 
ol  our  ow  n  mm  ieiv. 

And  it  follows  that  they  must  begin  very  early 
helping  their  y6ungster  to  pack  his  bag  for  an 
unknown  future.  11  they  ecpiip  him  as  he  should 
be  ecpiipped  lor  such  a  perilous  journey— with 
fortitude  and  willingness  to  learn,  with  imagina- 
tion and  good  sense,  with  the  capacity  to  use  his 
mind  critically,  and  with  all  the  other  abiding 
values— they  can  send  him  off  without  too  precise 
knowledge  of  his  ultimate  destination. 


PHILENE  HAMMER 

AND   I   SAY   THE   HELL   WITH    IT 

I'm  a  gal  who  looks  askance 
At  items  known  as  edible  plants, 
And  longs  to  plant  each  vegetarian 
Upon  a  silent  peak  in  Darien. 

My  favorite  hobby 
Is  no*  KOHLRABI. 

How  blah  the  EGGPLANT,  and  how  scant 
My  passion  for  this  purple  plant! 
In  fact,  it  strikes  me  as  incredible 
What  one  must  add  to  make  it  edible. 

LEEKS 

Reeks. 

One  bite  of  SALSIFY,  stewed  or  fried, 
And  I  am  more  than  salsified. 

Consider  the  CARROT,  the  staff  of  Hygeia, 
The  piece  de  resistance  of  rabbits; 
Consider,  too,  SPINACH,  that  green  panacea, 
The  stuff  of  the  Popeyes  and  Babbitts; 
Consider  these  cure-alls  for  all  sorts  of  ills— 
And  pass  me  my  bottle  of  vitamin  pills. 


Also   I    don't   care    too   much   for   ZUCCHINI. 
Finis. 


A  Story  by  BEN  MADDOf 
Drawings  by  Janina  Domanska 


*M;.j^tfrfts* 


An  Old  Boy  who  made  Violins 


1SAW  a  man  smiling  while  my  daughter 
screamed,  and  he  came  across  the  little  ref- 
ugee restaurant  and  opened  his  hand,  which 
was  plated  thick  with  calluses,  and  gave-  her  a 
lemon  drop.  She  stopped  yelling,  out  of  polite- 
ness. He  was  a  wonderful  old  man,  with  eyes 
of  palest  innocence,  though  his  face  was  pink 
as  if  he  were  perpetually  angry. 

"No  need  to  cry,"  he  told  Rachel. 

She  said  to  him,  "He  always  gives  me  meat  for 
dinner." 

"What  a  crime!"  I  said  bitterly. 

She  wiped  her  nose  into  her  pretty  sleeve.  "It 
has  fat  on  it." 

"I  cut  all  the  fat  off,"  I  said. 

"He  doesn't  love  me,"  Rachel  told  the  man. 
"He  doesn't  even  like  me." 

"O'  course  he  does.  He's  got  to.  He's  your 
papa,"  said  the  old  boy.  He  leaned  on  my  table, 


his  thick  fists,  with  their  sparse  white  fur, 
planted  solidly  among  the  frivolous  refugee 
dishes.    "Name's  Mclntyre,"  he  added. 

"Wopper,"  I  said.  "George  K.  Wopper." 

"Why,  funny,  there's  a  Wopper  in  Nootka 
Bay,  Oregon,  my  home  town.  Never  liked  'em, 
though.  Kept  chickens  and  fought  the  zoning 
law.  How  old  would  you  say  I  was?"  he  asked. 

I  was  cruel.  I  guessed  sixty-five,  said  seventy. 

"Eighty-one,"  he  said  in  habitual  triumph. 
"Been  retired  seventeen  short  years.  Went  by 
like  a  flash.  Mechanical  engineer.  You  in  busi- 
ness, Mr.  Wopper?" 

"Shoes." 

"Wait  a  minute!  Let  me  talk!"  said  Rachel. 
"I'm  four  and  one-half,  my  brother  is  Robert, 
he's  away  at  a  silly  old  camp!  My  mother  took 
off  and  went  to  get  him!  He  has  the  biggest 
feet!  I  love  him  but  he  won't  let  me  take  a  bath 


56 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


with  him  any  more!  He  thinks  I'm  a  pest!  I'm 
not,  am  I?" 

"You're  my  darling,"  he  told  her.  He  gave 
her  another  lemon  drop  and  went  back  to  his 
table. 

Rachel  crunched  both  candies  at  once  in  her 
noisy  teeth,  then  knocked  over  her  glass  of  milk. 
Two  waiters  and  a  bus  boy  came  with  mops 
and  smiles.  The  whole  rest. mi  ant  smiled:  why 
shouldn't  they?— the  milk  wasn't  in  their  lap. 
Still,  I  forbore  to  scold  her.  She  was  rather 
disappointed,  I  think. 

"1  at  your  chop,  honey,  or  no  dessert,"  I  said. 

Rachel  put  her  thumb  in  her  mouth,  closed 
her  eyes  in  an  exaggerated  way,  and  leaned— 
fell,  rather— from  her  chair  onto  my  chest.  I 
kissed  her  and  signaled  for  the  bill. 

We  went  out  past  the  old  man  and  walked 
hand  in  hand  on  the  thick  lawns.  It  was  a  broad, 
elegant  park  along  the  harbor.  We  were  on  the 
last  of  a  week's  vacation,  this  foxy  child  and 
myself.  I  had  driven  all  the  way  from  Frisco 
here  to  Vancouver:  sea,  headland,  forest,  Mt. 
Shasta  ghostly  in  the  rain.  Landscape  made  me 
happy,  made  Rachel  sleepy. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  she  said. 

"Too  bad,"  I  said. 

The  sun  was  low  and  salmon-red.  The  air 
had  the  mild  Canadian  brilliance.  To  one  side 
was  the  new  bridge  to  the  city:  painted  steel 
stretched  over  green  salt  water.  Closer  by, 
cemented  into  the  grass,  was  a  transplanted  cedar 
pole,  almost  sixty  feet  high,  carved  and  painted. 
It  was  all  beaks,  eyes,  claws,  teeth,  the  bloody 
and  ritual  jaw  of  cannibalism.  A  good  way  off, 
the  old  man  had  come  out  of  the  restaurant  and 
was  shading  his  eyes  to  look  at  the  monument. 

"I  really  love  him,"  said  Rachel. 

"Who?   Bobbie?" 

"You  know  who!  Not  Bobbie!  Not  Bobbie!" 
she  screamed.  Tears  flowed  in  four  streams,  out 
of  her  eyes  and  her  nostrils.  She  was  in  a  hor- 
rible rage. 

Old  Mclntyre  came  toward  us  from  behind 
and  took  Rachel  by  the  elbows  and  swept  her 
off  the  ground.  "Grandpa!"  she  said  to  him, 
rather  sadly.  Pleased  at  this  new  name,  he  put 
her  on  his  shoulders  and  carried  her  to  the  base 
of  the  totem  pole.  He  raised  one  hand,  Indian 
fashion,  and  said,  "How!"  Some  tourists  in  new 
Scotch  plaid  berets  took  their  picture.  There 
was  a  lot  of  women's  laughter  in  the  soft,  moist 
air. 

"Injuns  made  this  pole,"  he  said  to  Rachel. 
"Pretty  good,  ain't  they?  I  do  a  little  carving 
myself."   And  he  took  her  for  a  piggy-back  ride. 


I  sat  on  the  grass  and  smoked  a  cigar.  People 
generally  were  charmed  by  Rachel,  in  public, 
anyway.  I  was  proud  of  that;  also  it  gave  me 
a  brief  rest:  the  old,  lonely,  and  yet  comfortable 
feeling  that  1  was  nineteen,  a  bachelor  again, 
without  children,  without  a  front  lawn  and  fruit 
trees  and  a  house  with  radiant  heat,  without  in- 
come and  without  income  tax. 

AS  I  leaned  back  in  the  grassy  fragrance 
and  had  this  little  backward  dream, 
Rachel  came  running  toward  me,  and  took  off 
her  scarf,  sticky  with  old  chocolate,  and  wrapped 
it  around  my  head.  "You're  so  cold,"  she  said. 
I  rocked  her  in  my  lap.  The  old  man  followed 
on  his  short  sprightly  legs,  and  stood  over  me 
with  benevolence. 

"Shoes  are  a  good  line,"  he  assured  me. 
"There's  a  steady  demand  for  shoes."  He  smiled. 
"Most  people  have  at  least  two  feet." 

Rachel  laughed  her  head  off  at  this  joke. 

I  said,  "How  do  you  spend  your  time,  Mr. 
Mclntyre?" 

"You  would  hardly  believe  it,  sir,"  the  old 
boy  said.  He  laughed,  crowed  almost.  "I  make 
violins.  That's  the  last  two  years.  Before  that, 
I  was  a  miserable  old  man."  He  haw-hawed 
again.  It  was  a  strain  in  my  neck  to  have  to 
look  up  at  him,  and  to  nod  and  smile  en- 
couragement. It  was  pity  or  guilt;  that  I  was 
half  his  age;  that  I  could  feel  the  creak  of  his 
bony  muscles,  the  thick  blood  moving  through 
hard  and  brittle  veins  in  his  head,  and  his  slow, 
padded  hands  twisting  as  he  talked,  the  great 
callus  flaking  in  the  center  of  each  palm,  and 
every  finger  blunt  as  a  thumb. 

"Few  years  ago  I  rriade  a  working  steam  engine 
for  my  grandson.  Only  this  high— you  could 
stow  it  away  in  an  apple  box.  He  didn't  like 
it  at  all.   Cried  when  he  saw  it." 

"It  must  have  been  scary,"  Rachel  said. 

"Chu-chu,  chu-chu,  chu!"  answered  Mr.  Mc- 
lntyre. "Well,  sir,  I  thought,  what  next?  Reach 
a  certain  age,  the  world  is  open.  No  obligation 
to  anybody  but  the  Lord.  I  had  all  my  tools, 
you  see,  and  a  basement  which  run  the  length  of 
the  house.  Concrete  floor.  Built  it  myself  in 
'07.  Well,  I  sat  in  that  basement  and  puttered 
with  my  tools  and  waited  around  to  die.  And  a 
feller  dropped  in  one  day—" 

I  offered  him  a  cigar;  he  took  it,  said  he'd 
save  it  for  his  grandson,  who  was  Chief  of  Police 
at  Nootka  Bay.  First  the  grandson  was  afraid 
of  toy  steam  engines,  he  said,  and  suddenly 
he   was   Chief  of  Police;    time   was   frightening. 

"Feller    dropped    in,"    he    continued.     "Some 


AN     OLD     BOY     WHO     MADE     VIOLINS 


57 


£vrfc 


■  -**±_?  1,--^==^"  •   '.p:  oupi    1   '  •",'•'■  ';.'/'-/Ja  W^~z  BOB  9/ .'fe°> .       pool  » 

,     ^ViF^& —         »•    *"^-w" —     ''.''•.'  '  .,   -n      "•   {  -       ""■'' -~:p\ -i-:'    ■ -4U. 


D£C:C 


vF**** 


<P*. 


I-talian  name,  had  a  violin  he  wanted  fixed. 
Broken  bridge.  Heard  I  had  some  tools.  Well, 
I  repaired  it  for  him,  and  it  got  me  interested  in 
fiddles.  My  wife  plays  piano,  you  know,  or  did 
till  she  up  and  left  me." 

"After  all  those  years?"  I  said.   "Why?" 

"Gall  bladder,"  he  told  me.  "Went  just  like 
that."  He  clapped  his  hands.  Rachel  stared  at 
him.  Everything  he  did  was  dramatic,  in  a  dry 
way.  "Well,  well,"  he  went  on,  serenely,  "I 
bought  the  blueprints  of  the  Stradivarius  violin 
of  16  and  59.  I  had  to  send  for  wood  to  the 
country  of  Germany.  Aged  two  hundred  years  in 
a  cool  room.  I  studied  that  wood  for  three  solid 
weeks.  Day  after  Thanksgiving  I  took  a  ribbon 
saw  and  cut  out  the  back  and  the  front  and 
sanded  it  down  so  fine  it  looked  like  it  been 
waxed.  And  went  over  it  with  a  dial  micrometer. 
Yes,  I  did,  honey,"  he  said,  -kissing  Rachel. 
"Little  papoose." 

As  he  bent  down,  I  could  smell  the  bourbon. 
Suddenly  I  knew  I  detested  the  old  boy,  though 
I  couldn't  make  myself  get  up  off  the  grass,  and 
say  a  cold  good-by,  take  Rachel,  and  leave  him 
to  his  gab  and  his  blarney.  I  was  imprisoned, 
not  by  pity  any  more,  but  by  some  affectionate 
force  in  the  old  man,  in  his  violent  pink  face 
and  his  eyes  blue  as  a  baby's. 

"Lot  of  work  entailed,"  I  remarked. 

"Oh,  I'm  a  worker,"  he  agreed.  "Put  front 
and  back  of  that  violin  in  a  clamp  lined  with 
lamb's  wool,  and  rubbed  some  rosin  along  the 
edges,  and  I'm  no  player  at  all,  my  wife  took 
the  music  out  of  me  when  she  passed,  but  I 
bought  an  old  violin  bow  and  I  stroked  the 
back  and  I  stroked  the  front,  and  listened  to  the 
note  and  got  'em  in  harmony.  Harmony,  mind 
you!"  he  cried  in  his  technical  joy.  "And  where 
it  was  out  of  harmony,  I  gave  it  a  lick  with  four 


zero  sandpaper,  and  I  stroked,  I  stroked  it 
front  and  back.  And  when  it  was  ready  I  clapped 
it  together—" 

"What— no  glue?"  I  said. 

"Pure  horse's  hoof,"  he  said.  "None  of  your 
cheap  plastic.  And  I  took  that  violin  to  Mr. 
Sidney  Helmholtz  in  San  Francisco  and  he  said 
to  me,  Mr.  Mclntyre,  you're  no  amateur.  Told 
me,  he  said,  you're  no  amateur.  No  amateur! 
And  him  the  most  eminent,  mind  you,  fiddle- 
maker  in  America.  I  got  $1,800  for  that  instru- 
ment. And  I  can't  play  a  note.  That  fiddle 
will  go  on  symphonizing  away  when  I  am  nailed 
up  for  good  and  moldering  in  my  hundred- 
dollar  coffin.  Immortality.  Ain't  that  high- 
larious?— Ah!"  he  said  to  Rachel,  turning  her 
about  to  look  at  the  great  Indian  pole,  "there's 
a  piece  of  cake  you  can't  do  with  a  micrometer, 
hey  girl?"  Rachel  sprang  up  and  clasped  him 
about  the  knees  in  a  wave  of  passion. 

He  implored  us  to  come  and  visit  him  in 
Nootka  Bay,  Oregon.  He  had  bags  full  of  candy 
in  glass  jars,  he  assured  us.  And  dozens  of 
violins. 

It  grew  darker  quite  slowly.  We  felt  the  chill 
creep  down  from  invisible  glaciers;  but  we  stood 
about,  Rachel  and  I,  listening  to  the  old  boy, 
the  charmer,  the  magician  with  the  alcoholic 
skin.  At  a  little  distance  the  totem  pole,  with 
its  beaks,  teeth,  eyeballs  at  every  joint,  turned 
black  and  glittering  in  the  flood  of  the  super- 
natural moon. 

ON  M  O  N  D  A  Y  ,  on  our  way  home,  four 
days  later,  I  drove  past  a  road  sign  which 
mentioned  Nootka  Bay,  thirty  miles  to  the  west. 
The  inertia  of  the  moving  road  took  me  miles 
beyond  this  notice,  and  then  it  seemed  impos- 
sible to  turn  the  car  around  and  go  back.   Fifty 


58 


HARPER'S     M  A  GAZ1NE 


miles  later,  between  the  stones  of  ;i  bad  detour, 
I  blew  the  left  front  tire  and  rolled  down  a  long 
bill  into  a  local  garage  for  repair.  It  bad  begun 
to  rain  in  drops  as  thick  as  oil. 

We  gave  up,  and  picked  a  motel:  it  had 
accommodations  in  the  shape  of  wigwams  <>l 
poured  concrete.  I  put  Rachel  to  bed  early,  so 
we  could  be  up  at  dawn  and  home  by  afternoon 
I  remember  there  was  the  awful  vibration  of  a 
power  plant  in  the  hills  nearby.  I  fell  asleep  in 
my  socks,  and  woke  up  about  eleven  in  the 
evening.  It  was  stilling  inside.  I  tinned  off  the 
heater  and  opened  a  window  and  smelted  rain, 
pine,  and  clams.  We  were  closer  to  the  ocean 
than  1  thought.  The  old  boy  would  be  home  in 
Nootka  Ray  by  now. 

I  decided  to  shave.  In  a  horrible  fluorescent 
light,  I  ran  water  and  scraped  at  my  laic,  that 
naked  sign  of  a  man  that  stands  lor  the  rest  of 
him.  "Holy  cats,  I'm  doing  pretty  well,*'  I 
assured  myself.  "Business  highly  competitive, 
but  I  can  stand  the  gaff."  I  pounded  my  chest. 
"Two  kids,  boy  and  girl,  wifie  the  hist  in  (he 
world,  what's  your  complaint,  man?"  I  asked  the 
mirror.  "That  little  joyride  with  the  girl  in 
Shipping,  well  a  man  of  forty  plus  can't  throw 
away  a  zoftik  chance  like  that,  what  the  hell  do 
you  want?  You  tried  a  hobby,  but  no  go.  Damn 
it  to  hell—"  lor  I  had  cut  a  nick  over  that  slight 
excrescence  in  my  left  chin,  and  it  was  bleeding 
into  the  sink. 

"Hobbies,  I  tried  photography  but  the  pic  tuns 
looked  like  fried  liver,  all  evening  cooped  up 
in  a  darkroom,  who  wants  it?  Sailboats,  I 
bought  a  beauty,  it  made  the  wife  sick  as  a  dog, 
and  at  present,  I  concentrate  on  golf.  But  what's 
golf?  Knock  around  a  defenseless  little  white 
ball  for  three  hours  every  Sunday?  Grown  men, 
it's  a  form  of  lunacy.  Well,  what  do  you  want? 
You  wrote  sonnets  to  a  married  woman  when 
you  were  twenty  years  of  age,  but  you're  a  big 
boy  now,  George,  you  big  handsome  fool,"  I 
said,  patting  the  slash  on  my  chin  with  a  dry 
towel,  "so  will  you  please  tell  me  or  somebody, 
anybody,  tell  me,  what  is  this  game  all  about, 
how  corny  can  you  get?" 

I  turned  out  the  lights  and  went  back  to  bed. 
The  truth  was  this:  I  was  happy,  but  dissatisfied. 
Old  Mclntyre  had  his  immortal  violins;  the  same 
could  not  be  said  for  $9.95  shoes. 

Rachel  talked  in  her  sleep  and  awoke  me.  It 
was  past  three  in  the  morning.  She  sal  up  and 
screamed;  she  was  having  one  of  those  standard 
nightmares,  typical  for  her  age.  You  would 
think  the  kid  could  read  Gesell.  I  held  her  in 
my  arms.    She  hit  me  and  struggled  against  me 


with  all  her  force.  It  was  mad  and  frightening. 
Her  eyes  wide  open,  her  spine  stiff  and  her 
skin  trembling  and  cold,  she  screamed  she 
wanted  her  Daddy,  Daddy,  where  was  her 
Daddy?  she  also  remarked  that  she  didn't  mean 
to  kill  Bobbie,  it  was  an  accident,  it  was,  it  was, 
wasn't  it?  I  tried  to  get  her  to  eat  a  peppermint, 
but  she  spit  it  out  as  though  it  were  poison. 

Alter  (en  minutes  of  this,  she  cried  real, 
waking  teats,  and  went  to  the  toilet,  myself  hold- 
ing her  by  the  hand  as  she  sat,  mournful  and 
talkative,  afraid  to  go  back  to  the  sinister  house 
ol  sleep.  I  sang  her  all  the  songs  I  knew.  At 
breakfast,  we  were  both  quiet,  sleepy,  and  sad. 
Rachel  said  she  wanted  to  visit  Grandpa  Mc- 
Intvre,  and  I  found  myself  in  agreement.  He 
had  i he  secret,  the  old  boy;  and  we  had  to  see 
him,  both  Rachel  and  I,  two  children  with  the 
vac  at  ion  running  out. 

Wl  I  E  N  we  got  to  Nootka  Bay,  there 
weic  twenty  Mclntyres  in  the  phone 
book,  and  I  realized  I  didn't  know  the  old  man's 
firsl  name.  I  had  a  brilliant  notion,  and  called 
the  Chief  of  Police. 

Our  parents  were  afraid  of  telegrams.  Each 
century  has  its  own  mortal  conventions.  Bad 
news,  in  our  time,  always  conies  by  phone.  Black 
mouthpiece,  funereal  plastic,  the  ceremonial 
words.  "The  old  boy  passed  on,"  said  the  Chief 
of  Police.  I  le  seemed  oddly  unaffected.  "It  hap- 
pened on  the  plane  from  Vancouver.  He  was 
leading  a  paper.  Didn't  like  the  news,  I  guess, 
lie  would  have  been  eighty-two  in  December. 
You  a  friend  of  the  family?" 

"Acquaintance,"  I  said. 

"We  all  pass  on,"  he  told  me. 

"I  wonder,"  I  said  without  thinking,  "if  I 
could  buy  one  of  his  violins  from  the  estate." 

"You  could  if  there  were  any.  Man  alive!"  he 
said.   "What  kind  of  story  did  he  tell  you?" 

"Said  he  made  several  dozen  violins.  In  the 
basement  of  his  house." 

"The  old  boy  tell  you  that?  I'll  be  darned! 
You  know,  sir,  he  fooled  many  a  person.  Quite  a 
boy.  My  Grandpa  Mclntyre  was  well-known  for 
his  lies,  well-known!  Respected,  you  might 
almost  say.  Never  made  a  violin  in  his  life. 
Why  should  he?" 

I  thanked  him.  We  went  and  had  a  big  lunch. 
The  old  faker!    I  felt  some  sort  of  triumph. 

Eating  her  chocolate  pudding,  Rachel  began 
to  cry.   "We  forgot  to  see  my  grandpa,"  she  said. 

"lie's  not  your  real  grandpa,"  I  told  her. 
"Your  real  grandpa  is  in  San  Francisco,  lives  on 
Miller  Street.    You  know  that.    You  know  that 


AN     OLD     BOY     WHO     MADE     VIOLINS 


59 


perfectly  well,  now  don't  you?    God  damn  it!" 
"What  happened  to  this  grandpa?"  she  whis- 
pered.  She  was  pleased  by  my  irrational  anger. 
"He's  not  here,"  I  told  her.    "He's  gone." 
"I  know  it,"  she  said.  "In  a  cemetery.  Where 
they  put  your  old  bones.  Bobbie  told  me  all  that 
stuff.   I  don't  want  to  die."   But  she  thought  no 
more  about  it. 

We  took  a  walk  through  town.  The  sky  was 
gray,  full  of  clouds  the  color  of  fur.  The  man  at 
the  post  office  told  us  the  Mclntyre  place  was 
up  there  on  the  hill,  the  fanciest  house  in 
Nootka  Bay.  It  was  ornate,  in  fact,  but  time  had 
made  it  sober.  Rain  clouds  were  reflected  in 
the  mysterious,  flawed  window  glass  of  the  early 
century. 

I  pushed  open  a  slant  wooden  door  under  a 
thick  hydrangea,  and  saw,  as  I  guessed,  the 
gloom  of  the  big  cement  cellar.  Rachel  ran  in, 
and  began  to  collect  chips  and  shavings  from  a 
bin.  There  were,  as  the  Chief  of  Police  said,  no 
violins.  There  was  no  rosin— no  clamps,  no 
horse-hoof  glue.  The  floor  was  immaculate,  a 
number  of  steel  tools  were  hung  on  pegs  and 
smelled  faintly  of  oil.  In  one  corner  was  a  baby 
carriage  under  repair,  and  a  tarpaulin  covering 
a  heap  of  roundish  objects. 

I  pulled  off  the  canvas.  Underneath  were  a 
series  of  portrait  heads  carved  in  walnut,  teak, 
and  mahogany.    I   identified  Washington   with 


his  woman's  forehead  and  crooked  nose,  Jeffer- 
son with  the  black  concentration  in  his  eyes, 
and  some  dozen  others  I  couldn't  recognize  till 
I  saw  the  names  chiseled  into  the  base:  the  two 
Adamses,  Monroe,  Jackson,  Tyler,  Polk,  and  the 
rest.  The  old  man  had  begun  the  series  of  the 
Presidents,  and  was  only  half-way  through.  The 
men,  great  and  half-great  or  merely  typical,  sat 
crowded  under  the  canvas  as  if  talking  together 
in  heaven  or  hell.  Abe  Lincoln  was  the  master- 
piece. The  hard  strokes  of  steel  tools  had 
hacked  him  out  of  a  knot  of  myrtle.  A  print 
was  tacked  to  the  wall,  a  magazine  reproduction 
of  an  old  Lincoln  photo,  showing  the  marks 
where  the  glass  plate  had  cracked;  and  copying 
it  and  surpassing  it  in  the  sculptured  head,  the 
same  crooked  bow-tie,  the  cheeks  incised  with 
history,  the  large  melancholy  eyes,  careless  hair, 
and  the  mouth  of  tragic,  uneven  decision. 

I'm  very  emotional  lately;  I  sat  down  and  felt 
tears  in  my  eyes. 

It  was  the  old  phony  alcoholic  who  had  carved 
this  marvelous  man.  He  had  boasted  of  violins, 
but  had  done  Presidents. 

We  drove  home  next  day,  Rachel  and  I, 
through  hours  of  slow  thunder  and  rain.  She 
had  whole  pocketsful  of  shavings  from  the  bin 
in  the  old  boy's  workroom,  and  I  let  her  keep  or 
scatter  them,  as  she  chose.  In  the  wetness  of  the 
air,  they  still  had  the  smell  of  living  wood. 


Vernon  Knight,  M.D. 


ANTIBIOTICS: 


Too  much  of  a  good  thing? 


How  patients,  doctors,  and  drug 

companies  are  seriously 

misusing  the  new  "miracle  drugs." 

FIFTEEN  years  ago,  when  antibiotics 
were  first  introduced,  their  early  successes 
led  some  optimistic  souls  to  predict  an  end  to 
most  of  the  infectious  diseases  which  plague  man- 
kind. Today,  when  we  seem  to  have  reached 
the  broadest  possible  application  ol  all  known 
antibiotics,  their  list  of  achievements  is  indeed 
an  impressive  one.  Although  unhappily  many 
infectious  diseases  are  still  with  us,  antibiotics 
have  brought  under  control  such  notorious  and 
implacable  killers  of  the  past  as  common  pneu- 
monia, meningitis,  tuberculosis,  and  the  typhus 
fevers.  Tularemia  (rabbit  fever),  bubonic  plague, 
typhoid,  brucellosis  (undulant  fever),  syphilis, 
gonorrhea,  and  streptococcal  infections  also 
respond  well  to  various  antibiotics. 

but  at  the  same  time  alarming  reports  have 
begun  to  appear— reports  of  microbes  which  no 
longer  respond  to  antibiotics,  or  of  serious  and 
sometimes  fatal  reactions  in  patients  following 
the  use  of  these  drugs.  There  are  at  present  some 
one  hundred  authenticated  cases  of  sudden  death 
from  allergic  reactions  following  injections  of 
penicillin.  Asthmatic  attacks,  hay  fever,  derma- 
titis, severe  anemia  and  other  damage  to  blood- 
forming  organs,  diarrhea,  fever,  and  nausea  may 
also  result  from  the  administration  of  several 
of  the  antibiotics  now  in  use. 

Nevertheless  antibiotics  are  being  employed  in 
ever  increasing  quantities.  Approximately  two 
and  a  half  million  pounds  of  them— enough  to 
provide   a  short   course   of   treatment   for  every 


man,  woman,  and  child  in  the  country  with  a 
considerable  amount  left  over— are  being  manu- 
factured annually  in  the  United  States.  With 
stiih  an  abundance  available,  physicians  and 
patients  are  indulging  in  an  orgy  of  antibiotic 
dosing  which  is  far  beyond  the  bounds  of  neces- 
sity or  even  ol  good  therapeutic  practice. 

Drug  manufacturers  who  are  striving  in  vari- 
ous ways  to  increase  their  sales,  physicians  who 
do  not  always  apply  well-known  principles  of 
medical  practice  as  rigidly  as  they  might,  and 
patients  who  are  for  the  most  part  uncritically 
enthusiastic  about  being  treated  with  antibiotics, 
all  share  the  blame  for  this  state  of  affairs— but  a 
considerable  part  of  the  responsibility  must  be 
put  on  the  drug  companies.  In  the  early  days, 
a  pharmaceutical  house  that  produced  a  new 
antibiotic  was  richly  rewarded  by  an  enormous 
market,  relatively  or  completely  free  of  competi- 
tion, and  the  majority  of  the  bigger  firms  were 
developers  or  co-developers  of  important  anti- 
biotics. Recently,  as  the  number  of  effective 
drugs  has  increased,  it  has  become  harder  to  dis- 
cover agents  whose  properties  are  unique  or 
better  than  those  already  available.  This  has  led 
to  intense  competition  among  manufacturers  of 
existing  preparations. 

They  have  attempted  to  stimulate  sales  in 
three  ways  chiefly:  by  making  minor  alterations 
in  the  chemical  structure  of  an  antibiotic;  by 
mixing  two  or  more  antibiotics  together,  some- 
times with  a  sulfa  drug  as  well;  or  by  mixing 
antibiotics  with  headache  remedies,  vitamin  pills, 
and  other  non-antibiotic  medicinals.  As  a  result, 
the  six  basic  antibiotics— the  penicillins,  strep- 
tomycins, tetracyclines,  chloramphenicol,  ery- 
thromycin, and  novobiocin— now  appear  on  the 
market  under  the  labels  of  different  manufac- 
turers as  approximately  three  hundred  different 


ANTIBIOTICS:     TOO     MUCH     OF     A     GOOD     THING? 


61 


dosages  or  preparations  which  bring  their  makers 
a  grand  total  of  some  $300  million  a  year.  In  the 
table  below  they  are  shown  with  a  very  partial 
list  of  their  proprietary  or  trade  names  and 
their  makers. 

(In  passing  it  might  be  noted  that  the  other 
important  group  of  compounds  used  to  treat 
infection,  the  sulfa  drugs,  which  differ  from  the 
antibiotics  in  that  they  are  derived  from  basic 
chemicals  instead  of  from  the  growth  of  molds 
and  other  micro-organisms,  are  being  subjected 
to  the  same  abuses  of  distribution.) 

SALES     STIMULANTS 

CHANGING  the  chemical  structure  of 
an  antibiotic  usually  results  in  only  a 
slight  improvement.  However  in  the  absence  of 
more  significant  advances— such  as  the  discovery 
of  new  and  uniquely  effective  antibiotics— it  has 
provided  a  reasonable  and  useful  basis  for  com- 
petition among  the  drug  companies.  For  ex- 
ample, a  penicillin  preparation  was  needed 
which  would  give  an  effect  lasting  several  weeks 
after  a  single  injection.  After  a  number  of  years 


of  effort  by  several  companies,  one  of  them  de- 
veloped such  a  derivative  which  was  officially 
designated  benzathine  penicillin. 

The  other  two  practices— marketing  combina- 
tions of  antibiotics  or  a  mixture  of  antibiotics 
and  other  compounds— are  pure  sales-stimulating 
efforts  which  bear  no  relation  whatever  to  the 
patient's  best  interests.  Mixing  two  antibiotics 
which  are  both  already  available  as  single  pure 
compounds  obviously  offers  nothing  new  and 
may  even  interfere  with  treatment  by  preventing 
the  doctor  from  choosing  the  exact  dosage  of 
each  best  suited  to  the  patient's  needs.  Further- 
more the  medically  recognized  situations  which 
call  for  treatment  with  more  than  one  antibiotic 
are  few.  Yet  there  are  on  the  market  twenty-nine 
preparations  containing  two  antibiotics,  twenty 
containing  three,  eight  containing  four,  and  four 
containing   five. 

Mixing  antibiotics  with  other  kinds  of  drugs 
is  a  form  of  the  "shotgun"  treatment  which  was 
widely  practiced  in  the  days  when  medicine  had 
few  real  cures  to  offer.  Today  s'uch  unscientific 
procedure  cannot  be  justified  on  any  grounds. 
Vitamins  in  particular  have  little  place  in  the 


Major  Antibiotics  and  Their  Proprietary  Names 

OFFICIAL    NAME  PROPRIETARY   NAME 


Penicillin  derivatives: 

Numerous  chemical  modifications Numerous  names  and 

of  the  penicillin  molecule  are  manufacturers 

marketed  for  various  medical  needs 

Streptomycin     Usually  marketed  under 

official  name 

Tetracycline  derivatives* : 

Tetracycline    Achromycin  Lederle 

Polycycline  Bristol 

Panmycin  Upjohn 

Steclin  Squibb 

Tetracyn  Pfizer 

Chlor-tetracycline     Aureomycin  Lederle 

Oxtetracycline    Terramycin  Pfizer 

Chloramphenicol*   Chloromycetin  Parke    Davis 

Erythromycin* Erythrocin  Upjohn 

Ilotycin  Lilly 

Novobiocin* Albamycin  Upjohn 

Cathomycin  Merck,  Sharp 
and  Dohme 

*  Manufacture  and  sale  restricted  by  copyrights  and  patents. 


62 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


treatment  of  the  common  infections  for  which 
antibiotics  are  used,  and  the  routine  use  of 
preparations  composed  of  antibiotics  and  vita- 
mins is  merely  evidence  that  the  physician  lias 
allowed  an  advertising  gimmick  to  impair  his 
medical  judgment. 

The  physician  is,  to  be  sure,  in  a  difficult  posi- 
tion. On  the  one  hand  he  is  pressured  by  the 
elaborate  claims  of  the  drug  companies;  on  the 
other,  by  the  patient's  own  eagerness  for  a 
"miracle  drug."  Conditioned  bv  the  spectacular 
early  successes  of  the  antibiotics  and  the  piece- 
meal reporting  of  later  discoveries  -which  often 
comes  from  drug  company  publicity  men— most 
laymen  are  more  than  willing  candidates  for 
antibiotic  treatment.  Some  even  suspect  a  doctor 
who  refuses  to  prescribe  it.  Fortunately  man  has 
a  considerable  capacity  to  tolerate  noxious 
agents,  and  the  majority  of  people  who  take  anti- 
biotics are  not  harmed  by  them.  Still  it  is  high 
time  to  take  an  informed,  impartial  look  at  what 
antibiotics  can  and  can't  do. 

WHERE     THEY     DO     WORK 

BEFORE  antibiotics,  diseases  caused  by 
bacteria,  that  is  microbes  which  are  visible 
when  examined  under  a  microscope,  were  re- 
sponsible for  an  enormous  number  of  deaths 
each  year.  The  mortality  rate  from  common 
pneumonia,  for  instance,  ran  as  high  as  50  per 
cent.  Today  it  is  approximately  5  per  cent,  and 
deaths  occur  chiefly  in  patients  who  are  treated 
late  or  who  have  a  serious  underlying  disease 
like  cancer  or  a  weak  heart. 

Meningitis,  another  bacterial  disease  which 
used  to  occur  frequently  in  epidemics,  killed 
thousands  of  our  troops  in  World  War  I.  The 
death  rate  in  cases  treated  with  antibiotics  or 
sulfonamides  is  now  only  about  8  per  cent. 

Tuberculosis,  still  another  of  man's  inexorable 
enemies,  is  yielding  to  streptomycin  and  other 
chemotherapeutic  drugs.  And  it  was  in  the  treat- 
ment of  this  infection  that  the  use  of  combina- 
tions of  these  drugs  first  received  serious  study. 
It  now  appears  that  better  results  can  be  ob- 
tained in  cases  of  tuberculosis  with  the  simul- 
taneous use  of  two  or  even  three  drugs.  Treat- 
ment with  two  or  more  antibiotics  has  also  been 
found  useful  in  certain  rare  kinds  of  heart  infec- 
tion, and  in  some  cases  of  severe  undiagnosed 
infection  before  a  diagnosis  can  be  made.  But 
these  are  almost  the  only  cases  where  combina- 
tions of  two  or  more  antibiotics  are  helpful. 

Kidney  and  urinary  infections  respond  only 
moderately   well    to   antibiotics,   partly   because 


some  of  these  bacteria  are  resistant  to  the  chugs, 
and  partly  because  infections  in  this  part  of  the 
body  often  signal  the  presence  of  other  diseases 
which  must  also  be  treated  before  the  infection 
will  heal. 

Staphylococcal  infections— the  most  common 
of  which  are  boils,  bone  infections,  and  blood- 
stream infections— are  an  excellent  illustration 
of  the  clangers  of  misuse  or  overuse  of  antibiotics. 
Originally  staphylococci  were  highly  susceptible 
to  the  effect  of  penicillin  and  some  other  anti- 
biotics. But  as  these  agents  have  been  increas- 
ingly used  on  patients,  the  microbes  have  become 
increasingly  resistant,  especially  to  penicillin, 
streptomycin,  and  the  tetracyclines.  This  resist- 
ance has  been  found  to  be  directly  proportionate 
to  the  amount  the  drugs  are  used,  and  for  this 
reason  the  more  recently  introduced  and  less 
commonly  used  antibiotics  like  erythromycin, 
novobiocin,  and  chloramphenicol  are  now  our 
principal  resources  for  fighting  staphylococcal 
infection.  Staphylococci's  growing  resistance  to 
antibiotics  has  been  receiving  more  attention 
recently  in  medical  circles,  and  restrictions  on 
excessive  use  of  the  drugs  has  been  proposed  as 
the  best  way  to  improve  the  situation.  In  New 
Zealand,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  legislative  action  has 
already  been  taken  to  prohibit  the  use  of 
erythromycin  for  most  infections,  so  that  it  will 
remain  effective  against  staphylococci. 

Of  the  several  dozen  human  diseases  caused  by 
fungi,  organisms  of  more  complex  structure  than 
bacteria,  only  a  few  have  responded  well  to  anti- 
biotics. A  particularly  troublesome  one  called 
moniliasis,  which  sometimes  appears  after  anti- 
biotics have  been  given,  is  thought  by  many 
physicians  to  be  a  reaction  to  the  treatment. 

Among  the  diseases  caused  by  rickettsiae, 
which  are  smaller  than  bacteria  but  larger  than 
viruses,  there  have  been  notable  successes.  The 
typhus  fevers,  of  which  there  are  several,  for 
centuries  resisted  treatment.  An  epidemic  in  the 
Balkans  shortly  after  World  War  I  killed  150,- 
000  Serbians  in  six  months.  Today  an  apparently 
dying  patient  can  recover  promptly  after  receiv- 
ing a  few  grams  of  the  tetracyclines  or  chlo- 
ramphenicol. 

But  in  the  case  of  infections  caused  by  viruses,* 


*  For  many  years  the  common  cold  and  influenza 
were  the  only  respiratory  infections  known  to  be 
caused  by  viruses.  In  1953  scientists  succeeded  in  iso- 
lating a  group  of  new  viruses  from  patients  with  re- 
spiratory infections  which  have  been  named  adeno- 
viruses. They  still  do  not  account  for  all  cases  which 
appear  to  be  viral  infections,  however,  and  the  search 
for  further  new  viruses  continues. 


ANTIBIOTICS:     TOO     MUCH     OF     A     GOOD     THING? 


63 


or  submicroscopic  living  particles,  antibiotics  are 
useless.  And  their  administration  in  these  cases 
is  the  most  widespread  and  important  present- 
day  abuse  of  the  drugs.  Usually  they  are  given 
because  the  symptoms  of  the  numerous  nose, 
throat,  and  lung  infections  caused  by  viruses 
cannot  be  readily  distinguished  from  streptococ- 
cal sore  throats,  tonsillitis,  and  bacterial  pneu- 
monias which  are  responsive  to  treatment  with 
antibiotics. 

There  is  a  simple  laboratory  test  which  will 
make  this  distinction  which  can  be  performed 
in  twenty-four  hours,  but  in  most  cases  neither 
the  physician  nor  the  patient  is  willing  to  wait. 
Both  apparently  prefer  to  proceed  on  the  assump- 
tion that  too  much  treatment  is  better  than  too 
little  and  one  might  as  well  try  the  antibiotics. 
Actually,  no  more  than  some  five  in  a  hundred 
acute  respiratory  infections  are  caused  by  bac- 


teria which  respond  to  antibiotics.  Each  person 
in  the  United  States  is  likely  to  have  between 
three  and  ten  acute  respiratory  infections  a  year, 
making  a  grand  total  of  over  half  a  billion  cases. 
About  95  per  cent  of  these  will  not  respond  to 
antibiotics,  but  unquestionably  many  get  dosed 
with  them  anyhow. 

About  the  only  practical  application  of  anti- 
biotics in  the  treatment  of  viral  disease  is  in 
the  bacterial  pneumonia  which  occasionally  com- 
plicates cases  of  influenza  and  which  was  re- 
sponsible for  a  majority  of  the  deaths  during 
the  flu  epidemic  of  1918-19.  In  the  recent  Asian 
flu  epidemic  in  the  United  States  stockpiles  of 
antibiotics  were  accumulated  for  this  purpose. 

But  in  other  viral  diseases  the  use  of  anti- 
biotics can  be  of  benefit  only  to  the  drug  manu- 
facturers, and  of  harm  to  the  patient's  pocket- 
book,  if  nothing  else. 


TOO   LATE   NOW 


I 


T  I S  exceedingly  difficult  to  speak  of  the  great  American  Republic  without 
doing  its  citizens  unintentional  injustice.  Its  rulers,  its  leaders,  its  spokesmen, 
are  so  directly  elected  and  so  frequently  re-elected  by  the  people;  they  derive 
their  authority  so  immediately  from  the  great  mass  of  the  population  .  .  .  they 
are  so  swayed  by  its  passions  and  so  susceptible  to  its  changes  of  opinion  .  .  . 
that  we  seem  peculiarly  entitled  in  their  case  to  hold  THE  NATION  responsible 
for  the  proceedings  of  its  Government,  the  acts  of  its  officials,  and  the  language 
of  its  diplomatists.  .  .  .  Now,  we  have  no  doubt  that  men  of  gentlemanly  feeling, 
of  deep  sense  of  decorum,  of  a  clear  perception  of  what  is  due  to  others,  abound 
in  America  as  well  as  here.  The  difference  between  us,  and  the  misfortune  of  our 
cousins,  are  these— that  such  men  do  not  at  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  either 
elect  the  Government,  or  give  the  tone  to  the  nation,  or  guide  the  language 
of  the  Press.  It  is  not  that  they  do  not  exist,  but  that  they  do  not  rule.  With  us, 
the  educated  and  the  upper  classes  have  the  power  in  their  own  hands.  ...  In 
the  United  States,  it  is  the  mass  who  govern;  it  is  they  who  dictate  what  shall 
be  done  and  said;  it  is  they  who  elect  the  Government,  and  whom  the  Govern- 
ment must  serve;  in  fine,  it  is  they  who  have  to  be  acted  down  to  and  written 
down  to.  This  is  a  grievous  evil,  a  great  embarrassment,  and  a  sad  discredit; 
but  it  must  not  blind  us  to  the  fact  of  a  better  and  nobler  order  of  citizens 
remaining  overpowered  indeed,  but  neither  silent  nor  inactive,  in  the  back- 
ground; it  must  not  prevent  us  from  refusing,  as  often  as  we  are  permitted,  to 
judge  the  nation  by  its  official  organs.  In  all  likelihood,  if  the  paramount  power 
in  England  ever  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  working  classes,  and  the  less  cultivated 
of  the  trading  classes,  and  the  least  scrupulous  of  legal  and  political  adventurers, 
who  now  only  share  it  ...  we  might  have  nearly  as  much  violence,  folly,  and 
discourtesy  to  blush  for  and  to  blame. 


—The  Economist,  London,  September  9,  1854. 


By  ALBERT    N.   VOTAW 

Dranings  by  Charles  W .  Walker 


The  Hillbillies  Invade  Chicago 


The  city's  toughest  integration  problem 

has  nothing  to  do  with  Negroes.  .  .  . 

It   involves  a  small  army  of  white, 

Protestant,  Early  American  migrants  from 

the  South — who  are  usually  proud, 

poor,   primitive,  and   fast  with   a  knife. 

APATHETIC  though  bumptious  mi- 
nority of  70,000  newcomers  among  Chi- 
cago's motley  population  of  four  million  is  dis- 
turbing the  city's  peace  these  days— and  inci- 
dentally proving  to  everybody  who  will  listen 
that  integration  problems  often  have  nothing  to 
do  with  race,  language,  or  creed.  These  are 
Chicago's  share  of  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
Southern  "hillbillies"  who  have  been  imported 
during  and  since  World  War  II  to  offset  labor 
shortages  in  the  industrial  centers  of  Ohio,  In- 
diana,  Michigan,  and  Illinois. 

"In  my  opinion  they  are  worse  than  the 
colored,"  said  a  police  captain.  "They  are  vicious 
and  knife-happy.  They  are  involved  in  75  per 
cent  of  our  arrests  in  this  district." 

"I  can't  say  this  publicly,  but  you'll  never  im- 
prove the  neighborhood  until  you  get  rid  of 
them,"  commented  a  municipal  court  judge. 

"I've  been  in  this  business  fifteen  years,"  re- 
marked the  manager  of  a  large  apartment  hotel, 
"but  this  is  the  first  time  I've  had  to  carry  a 
blackjack  in  the  halls  of  my  own  building." 


These  farmers,  miners,  and  mechanics  from 
the  mountains  and  meadows  of  the  mid-South— 
witli  their  fecund  wives  and  numerous  children 
—are,  in  a  sense,  the  prototype  of  what  the  "su- 
perior" American  should  be,  white  Protestants 
of  early  American,  Anglo-Saxon  stock;  but  on  the 
streets  of  Chicago  they  seem  to  be  the  American 
dream  gone  berserk.  This  may  be  the  reason 
why  their  neighbors  often  find  them  more  ob- 
noxious than  the  Negroes  or  the  earlier  foreign 
immigrants  whose  obvious  differences  from  the 
American  stereotype  made  them  easy  to  despise. 
Clannish,  proud,  disorderly,  untamed  to  urban 
ways,  these  country  cousins  confound  all  no- 
tions of  racial,  religious,  and  cultural  purity. 

Hard  times  in  the  agricultural  and  mining 
counties  of  the  South,  combined  with  talk  of 
high  wages  in  the  North,  originally  caused  this 
push  to  the  city.  And  the  labor  shortage  is 
by  no  means  over— though  the  Southern  influx 
has  leveled  off  somewhat.  Industrial  leaders  in 
Chicago  have  estimated  that  a  total  of  300,000 
new  workers  a  year  must  be  imported  for  the 
next  five  years.  With  European  sources  of  im- 
migrants almost  cut  off  by  restrictive  quotas, 
these  new  workers  must  come  mostly  from  the 
South  (Negro  and  white)  and  from  Puerto  Rico, 
Mexico,  and  the  Indian  Reservations. 

Whether  the  Southern  rural  whites— anti-social 
to  the  point  of  delinquency  in  the  eyes  of  their 
neighbors— must  remain  a  sore  to  the  city  and 
a  plague  to  themselves  depends  both  on  their 
ability    to    learn    and    on    the    city's    ability    to 


.iViii  »'»t 


Hospitality  demands  the  world's  3  great  whiskies 


T 


he  logs  crackle.  Your  friends  feel  the 
-L  warmth  of  your  welcome.  You  offer 
them  a  choice  of  the  world's  three  great 
whiskies.  A  great  Scotch.  A  great  Cana- 
dian. And  the  greatest  of  all  American 
whiskies — our  own  lord  calvert. 


We  recommend  this  mild  extravagance 
for  one  good  reason.  No  other  gesture 
speaks  so  well  of  a  host,  while  quietly 
honoring  a  guest. 

You  might  order  a  second  bottle  of  lord 
calvert.  Better  safe  than  sorry. 


Tribute  to  the  man  who  wasn't  there  — a  poignant  moment 


PAiii o  CASALS  was  ill.  His  place  in  center-stage  was 
empty.  And  somehow  you  couldn't  forger  it. 

The  festival  ended  the  way  that  it  should.  The  final 
performance  was  given  by  the  absent  (.'asals.  It  was 
his  recording  of  an  old  Catalan  ballad— the  Song  oj  the 
Birds.  The  ovation  was  thunderous. 

Casals  has  said,  "Each  day  I  am  reborn.  Each  day 
I  must  begin  again."  Such  is  the  simple  courage  that 


The  final  concert  at  last  year's  Festival  Casals  in  San  Juan.  Photograph  by  Elliott  Erwitt. 


at  last  year's  Festival  Casals  in  Puerto  Rico 


has  restored  the  Master  to  his  music.  Once  again  he  is 
ready  to  take  his  place  among  a  distinguished  group 
of  musicians— for  the  second  Festival  Casals  in  San  Juan. 
This  1958  festival  will  run  from  April  22  through 
May  8.  The  program  will  feature  works  by  Mo/art, 
Beethoven  and  Brahms.  Principal  performers  will 
include  Victoria  de  los  Angeles,  Mieezyslaw  Hors- 
zowski,  Eugene  Istomin,  Jesus  Maria  Sanroma, 


Alexander  Schneider,  Rudolf  Serkin,  Isaac  Stern, 
Walter  Tramplcr  — and  the  Budapest  String  Quartet. 

Who  can  doubt  that  this  year's  festival  will  be  even 
more  brilliant  than  the  last? 

The  great  man  himself  will  be  there. 

For  details,  write  Festival  Casals,  P.  O.  Box  2612,  San  Juan,  Puerto 
Rico,  or  to  666  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York.  Announcement  by  the 
Connnonvjcahh  oj  Puerto  Rico,  666  Fifth  Avenue,  New  Turk  19. 


i  HE  special  world  your  little  on 
lives  in  is  only  as  secure  as  you  make  it.  Security  begins  with  saving 
And  there  is  no  better  way  to  save  than  with  U.  S.  Savings  Bonds.  Safe  —  you.' 
interest  and  principal,  up  to  any  amount,  guaranteed  by  the  Governmen. 
Sound  —  Bonds  now  pay  3Va%  when  held  to  maturity.  Systematic  —  whet 
you  buy  regularly  through  your  bank  or  the  Payroll  Savings  Plan.  It's  i. 
convenient  and  so  wise — why  not  start  your  Savings  Bonds  program  toda^ 
Make  life  more  secure  for  someone  you  love. 


Tki     I      S,    Government    dors    not    pay   for    this   advertisement.    It   is 

donated    by    this    publication    in    cooperation    with    the    Advertising      H  f  Vj 

Council  and  the  Magazine  Publishers  of  America, 


THE     HILLBILLIES     INVADE     CHICAGO 


65 


treat  them  right.  Unfortunately,  they  have  an 
option  not  open  to  previous  immigrants  which 
keeps  them  from  adapting  to  their  new  world. 
They  can  always  pack  up  and  go  home— only  an 
overnight  drive  away.  Hence  they  remain  tran- 
sients in  fact  and  in  spirit. 

REBELS     FOR      GOOD      CAUSE 

TH  E  Southerners  bring  along  suspicion  of 
the  authorities— landlords,  storekeepers, 
bosses,  police,  principals,  and  awesome  church 
people.  Often,  in  Chicago  these  authorities  be- 
long to  groups  whom  the  Southerners  consider 
inferior— foreigners,  Catholics,  colored  people- 
so  the  suspicion  is  reinforced  by  prejudice.  But 
the  most  conspicuous  reason  why  the  Southerners 
look  all  wrong  in  the  city  setting  is  the  domestic 
habits  they  bring  from  small  backwoods  com- 
munities. 

Settling  in  deteriorating  neighborhoods  where 
they  can  stick  with  their  own  kind,  they  live 
as  much  as  they  can  the  way  they  lived  back 
home.  Often  removing  window  screens,  they  sit 
half-dressed  where  it  is  cooler,  and  dispose  of 
garbage  the  quickest  way.  Their  own  dress  is 
casual  and  their  children's  worse.  Their  house- 
keeping is  easy  to  the  point  of  disorder,  and  they 
congregate  in  the  evening  on  front  porches  and 
steps,  where  they  find  time  for  the  sort  of 
motionless  relaxation  that  infuriates  bustling 
city  people. 

Their  children  play  freely  anywhere,  without 
supervision.  Fences  and  hedges  break  down; 
lawns  go  back  to  dirt.  On  the  crowded  city 
streets,  children  are  unsafe,  and  their  parents 
seem  oblivious.  Even  more,  when  it  comes  to 
sex  training,  their  habits— with  respect  to  such 
matters  as  incest  and  statutory  rape— are  clearly 
at  variance  with  urban  legal  requirements,  and 
parents  fail  to  appreciate  the  interest  authorities 
take  in  their  sex  life. 

On  the  job  they  are  said  to  lack  ambition, 
but  the  picture  is  confused.  Many  workers  are 
mechanically  skilled  though  not  highly  com- 
petitive. Sometimes  malnutrition  and  ill-health 
have  left  them  weak.  While  relatively  few  en- 
roll in  on-the-job  training,  a  good  many  attend 
television  repair  schools.  Generally,  where  they 
are  employed  in  offices  (women  mostly)  or  serv- 
ice work— where  the  irregular  tempo  suits  the 
former  miner  or  farmer— their  work  record  is 
adequate.  In  theory  they  may  be  interested  in 
accumulating  a  nestegg;  in  practice  they  are 
more  likely  to  make  do  until  they  run  out  of 
money,  and  then  go  home  for  a  spell. 


Because  of  this  constant  commuting— a  family 
funeral  down  South  may  empty  an  entire  build- 
ing in  Chicago— Southerners  are  considered  poor 
tenants.  Even  worse,  some  get  wise  to  the  prac- 
tice of  rent-skipping.  One  young  man  reportedly 
brought  his  wife  home  from  the  hospital  with 
a  new  baby  in  the  morning,  and  by  lunchtime 
the  whole  family  had  disappeared  bag,  baggage, 
and  a  few  of  the  apartment's  furnishings  to  boot. 
Some  know  enough  law  to  refuse  to  pay  the  rent, 
being  sure  of  ninety  days  for  the  courts  to  act  on 
the  landlord's  eviction  request.  If  the  landlord 
changes  the  lock  to  force  out  a  tenant,  an  under- 
cover guerrilla  war  may  take  place. 

At  school— perhaps  the  most  intimate  contact 
between  immigrants  and  their  city  neighbors- 
Southern  children  are  handicapped  by  coming 
from  inferior  rural  classes.  They  are  too  old  for 
their  grades  and  too  mature  physically  for  their 
classmates.  One  principal  tells  of  cotton-clad, 
sockless  youngsters  whimpering  in  zero  weather 
at  the  school  door,  where  they  have  been  sent 
by  working  parents  an  hour  before  opening  time. 
If  the  family  goes  home  for  the  winter,  the  chil- 
dren are  so  much  farther  behind  on  their  return 
that  they  must  either  be  demoted  or  carried  as 
a  more  or  less  passive  and  unassimilated  segment 
in  the  class.  In  some  elementary  schools  which 
they  attend,  transfers  outnumber  regular  pupils, 
and  enrollment  may  vary  as  much  as  seventy-five 
a  day  among  a  total  of  one  thousand. 

Prone  to  disease— but  fearful  of  authority— 
the  Southern  whites  tend  to  avoid  immunization 
officers,  free  dental  care  in  the  schools,  polio 
inoculations.  Sometimes  fundamentalist  religious 
beliefs  complicate  their  fears.  Positive  TB  tests 
have  shown  up  in  the  Southern-infiltrated  areas 
of  Chicago  in  increasing  numbers,  and  the  1956 
polio  epidemic  was  centered  there  too. 

An  added  complication  in  the  difficulties 
which  keep  the  newcomers  both  separate  and 
inferior  in  the  eyes  of  city  residents  and  authori- 
ties is  their  rock-hard  clannishness.  Settling  to- 
gether, keeping  in  touch  with  home  by  intermin- 
able telephoning  and  frequent  trips,  they  isolate 
themselves  by  intent.  One  Chicago  block,  for 
example,  is  inhabited  almost  exclusively  by  trans- 
planted Kentuckians;  one  elementary  school 
district  was  flooded  with  fifty  families  from  a 
West  Virginia  town  where  the  mine  closed.  Their 
chief  social  diversion  is  to  gather  with  friends, 
noisily,  in  the  one  institution  they  have  origi- 
nated up   North— the  hillbilly   tavern. 

"Skid  row  dives,  opium  parlors,  and  assorted 
other  dens  of  iniquity  collectively  are  as  safe 
as    Sunday    school    picnics    compared    with    the 


66 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


joints  taken  ovei  1>\  clans  ol  fightin',  feudin', 
Southern  hillbillies  and  their  shootin'  cousins," 
said  one  ferocious  expose  in  the  Chicago  Sunday 
Tribune. 

"The  Southern  hillbilly  migrants,"  the  story 
continued,  "who  have  descended  like  a  plague  of 
locusts  in  the  last  few  years,  have  the  lowest 
standard  of  living  and  moral  code  (il  any),  the 
biggest  capacit)  for  liquor,  and  the  most  savage 
tactics  when  drunk,  which  is  most  of  the  time." 

Many  of  the  newcomers  regard  city  churches 
as  kin  to  the  authorities  they  distrust.  They 
either  stop  going  to  church  or  else  frequent  the 
store-front,  "holiness"  gospel  centers  conducted 
h\  itinerant  preachers.  Here  they  feel  at  home; 
the  women  are  not  embarrassed  by  the  greater 
elegancx  <>l  their  neighbors;  and  they  Listen  to 
the  kind  of  old-time  religion  they  are  used  to. 
Many  modern  ministers  object  to  having  to  cater 
to  their  backwoods  beliefs. 

"I  preached  for  years  in  a  mountain  church 
and  school  in  Tennessee,"  one  Chicago  p.istor, 
himself  of  Southern  origin,  said  bitterly.  "Those 
kids  walked  eight  miles  each  way,  but  we  weren't 
supposed  to  worry  about  that.  We  were  supposed 
to  teach  them  that  Jesus  would  take  care  of  all 
our  worries  by  and  by,  and  that  was  all.  The 
South  has  had  enough  of  that  type  of  religion, 
and  I'm  not  interested  in  preaching  that  way  to 
them  any  more." 

One  possible  avenue  of  religion  for  these  mi- 
grants may  be  the  regular  Southern  Baptist 
churches,  now  being  formed  in  cities  like  Chi- 
cago,     ft    is    too    soon    to   judge    whether    this 


missionary  assault  on  the  transplanted  parish- 
ioners will  tend  to  isolate  them  further,  or  to 
encourage  their  assimilation. 

YOU     NEVER     KNOW     HOW    MUCH 

IF  THE  Southerners  are  a  nuisance  to  the 
city,  the  city  is  equally  hard  on  them.  The 
mountain  folk,  as  one  of  their  friends  puts  it, 
have  been  dodging  revenue  agents  for  hundreds 
of  years,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  their  attitude 
should  change  overnight.  Authority  means 
trouble:  police,  court,  jail;  repossession  of  goods 
bought  on  time;  snoopy  social  workers;  the 
truant  officer;  the  need  to  admit  publicly— when 
asked  to  sign  for  their  youngsters'  library  cards 
—that  they  don't  know  how  to  read  or  write. 

One  of  their  sorest  complaints  is  against  goug- 
ing landlords.  An  Alabama  couple  with  eight 
children  quartered  in  two  and  a  half  rooms, 
sharing  a  general  bath,  pay  twenty  dollars  a 
week  in  rent  plus  a  two  dollar  a  week  premium 
for  each  child.     Total:   $160  per  month. 

"How  can  I  keep  this  place  clean?"  asked  one 
mother.  "The  landlord  won't  give  us  no  garbage 
can,  and  the  linoleum's  so  full  of  holes  I  can't 
sweep  it." 

What  about  moving  to  a  better  apartment? 

"You  find  me  a  landlord  going  to  rent  to 
eight  kids,"  was  the  bitter  answer. 

The  police  don't  come  fast  enough  when  called 
and  they  won't  run  a  bad  man  out  of  the  neigh- 
borhood the  way  the  string-tie,  tobacco-chewing 
sheriffs  down  South  would  do. 

"They's  a  law  against  them  kids  driving 
around  so  fast  and  burning  rubber  with  them 
noisy  mufflers.  Why  don't  the  cops  grab  them?" 

But  when  it  comes  to  taking  away  the  TV  set 
when  the  payment  is  overdue,  the  law  comes  all 
too  fast.  "How  I  wish  you  people  would  make 
it  harder  for  us  to  buy  things,"  one  Tennessean 
complained.  "Back  home  we  have  to  get  signa- 
tures and  references,  and  it  takes  two  or  three 
days.  Here  you  just  walk  in  and  order  what  you 
want,  and  you  never  know  how  much  it  costs 
until  too  late." 

This  man  learned  through  bitter  experience 
to  limit  his  installment  buying  to  two  items— 
a  television  set  and  an  automobile.  He  was 
luckier  than  many  of  his  friends,  who  had  their 
wages  garnisheed  and  lost   their  jobs. 

For  many  of  the  newcomers  there  is  a  terrible 
burden  of  loneliness.  They  are  young,  often 
newly  married,  and  away  from  home  for  the  first 
time.  For  the  man  there  is  at  least  work  and  the 
tavern.  But  for  the  woman,  sometimes  unable  to 


THE     HILLBILLIES     INVADE     CHICAGO 


67 


leave  the  apartment  for  an  entire  winter,  life  in 
the  big  city  may  mean  an  aching  homesickness. 
The  patriarchal  family  disintegrates  when  jobs 
for  women  cut  into  the  dominant  role  of  the 
lather,  and  the  absence  of  chores  leaves  the  chil- 
dren with  idle  time  outside  the  home  and  away 
from  parental  influence. 

A     DISGRACE      TO     THEIR     RACE? 

IN  T  H  E  long  run,  the  Southern  whites  will 
probably  make  their  own  compromise  with 
city  ways.  But  this  is  no  answer  for  the  very  real 
problems  of  today,  and  city  authorities  have  been 
reluctant  to  recognize  that  they  require  special 
attention.  The  first  major  ajaproach  was  made  in 
Cincinnati,  the  city  first  to  receive  Southern 
whites  in  any  appreciable  numbers.  A  1954  work- 
shop gathered  together  the  Mayor's  Friendly  Re- 
lations Committee,  various  other  city  agencies, 
and  several  sociologists,  including  one  from  Berea 
College.  This  conference  developed  a  program 
dealing  chiefly  with  job  discrimination.  In 
Indianapolis  and  some  industrial  towns  of  Michi- 
gan, similar  approaches  have  been  made. 

In  Chicago  the  main  problem  is  not  employ- 
ment, but  housing.  And  this  question,  involving 
not  just  where  men  work  forty  hours  a  week  but 
where  women  and  children  live  and  play  twenty- 
four  hours  a  day,  is  much  more  delicate  and  com- 
plex. The  most  comprehensive  approach  was  ini- 
tiated by  a  private  community  group  concerned 
with  housing,  welfare,  and  planning  in  one  of 
the  areas  of  the  city  into  which  Southern  whites 
had  moved  with  the  usual  deleterious  social  ef- 
fects. This  group  obtained  a  survey  of  the  new- 
comers, the  first  and  to  date  the  only  study  of 
this  group  in  Chicago;  and  called  together  a 
city-wide  conference  of  church,  school,  adminis- 
trative, and  civic  leaders  to  discuss  the  survey 
and  to  develop  a  program. 

This  program  attempts  to  deal  with  the  South- 
erner where  he  lives,  where  his  insularity  is  most 
pronounced,  and  where  the  prejudices  of  the 
older  groups  are  most  violent.  The  proposal  in- 
volves the  following  five  points: 

(1)  Development  of  Southern  white  leadership, 
to  create  social  and  fraternal  organizations  com- 
parable to  those  created  by  other  ethnic  groups. 

(2)  A  pilot  project  to  experiment  with  tech- 
niques for  easing  the  Southerners'  adjustment 
to  the  city  and  for  relieving  those  problems 
associated  with  their  arrival  which  are  forcing 
more  stable  families  out  of  adjacent  areas.  (The 
Welfare  Council  of  Metropolitan  Chicago  is 
currently  working  up  such  a  project.) 


(3)  Organization  of  landlords  and  building 
managers  to  enforce  higher  standards  of  tenancy. 

(4)  Increased  attempts  to  deal  with  school 
transiency. 

(5).  Continued  development  by  existing  youth 
and  welfare  agencies  of  specific  services  for  this 
hard-to-reach  group. 

The  focus  of  any  program  must  be  to  prod  the 
newcomers  to  help  themselves.  The  women  are 
the  easiest  to  reach— sometimes  through  prenatal 
clinics  for  mothers;  sometimes  through  their  jobs. 
Although  the  men  remain  a  hard  core  of  re- 
sistance to  change,  hope  lies  in  the  fact  that  the 
Southern  whites  are  not  a  solidly  homogeneous 
group.  The  few  who  have  come  from  cities  are 
ripe  for  assimilation  and  critical  of  the  rural 
folk,  particularly  of  the  mountaineers. 

"If  you  think  the  hillbillies  are  making  a  mess 
of  your  schools,  you  should  see  what  they  did  to 
ours  down  in  Louisville,"  drawled  one  soft- 
spoken  new  arrival,  an  engineer.  Chicago  has  a 
social  club  of  Tennesseans— 1,500  strong— not 
one  of  whose  members  comes  from  the  hills. 

This  kind  of  rivalry  within  the  group  may 
provide  a  clue;  for  all— even  the  most  clannish 
and  stubborn— have  potentially  the  ability  to 
compete  with  city  people  on  their  own  terms. 
The  frequent  comment,  "They  are  a  disgrace  to 
their  race,"  is  an  acknowledgment  of  this  fact. 
For  this  Southern  migrant— the  white  Protestant 
artisan  or  farmer— is  the  descendant  of  the  yeo- 
man of  Jeffersonian  democracy.  No  matter  how 
anti-social  he  seems,  he  has  every  attribute  for 
success  according  to  the  American  dream— even 
in  its  narrowest  form. 

In  a  sense,  this  immigrant  is  hated  because  he 
proves  our  prejudices  wrong.  With  all  the  ill  will 
in  the  world,  the  worst  detractors  of  the  South- 
ern white  acknowledge  that  he  has  what  it  takes 
to  make  good.  The  question  is,  can  he  develop 
the  desire  to  belong  and  to  get  ahead— before  he 
packs  up  once  for  all  and  goes  home? 


FLORENCE:   AT   THE   VILLA   JERNYNGHAM 

By  Osbert  Sitwell 
Drawings  by  Robert  Benton 


The  Villa  Jernyngham  belonged  by  inheritance  to  the  Dampiers 
Who  could  neither  afford  to  keep  it  nor  to  give  it  up: 

In  the  winter  for  several  years 

They  would  sit  round  a  cold  stove  and  talk 
About  What  Could  Be  Done. 

"What  is  really  wanted  in  this  city,"  husband  and  wife  would  for  once  agree, 

"Is  a  kind  of  hotel  which  is  a  home  as  well, 

With  lots  of  little  palms  in  pots— you  know— 

And  run  by  cultivated  English  gentlepeople." 

Eventually  they  found  the  courage— and  the  capital— 
To  substantiate  their  dream. 

So  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dampier, 

Incapable  of  running  a  home  for  themselves 

Set  out  to  run  a  home  for  twenty  others,  and  be  paid  for  it: 

The  Villa  Jernyngham  nourished  in  the  press  as  a 

"First-class  Family  Pension  for  Discriminating  Guests 

In  Peaceful  Atmosphere.  Splendid  garden  and  every  home  comfort." 

The  culture  Mr.  Dampier  supplied 

While  Mrs.  Dampier  arranged  the  palm-trees  in  the  sitting-room 

With  a  dry  and  dusty  coziness, 
Presided  over  the  catering 
And  ordered  the  meals— 

The  same,  pale,  tasteless  food,  like  something 
Materialized  by  a  medium  at  a  seance— 
That  she  had  given  guests  when  the  villa  was  her  own  residence. 

Most  conveniently, 

Mrs.  Dampier  had  trained  as  a  nurse 

And  so  could  tend  the  cases 
That  arose  from  eating  the  dishes  she  provided. 


ARCHDEACON    SAWNYGRASS 

Archdeacon  Sawnygrass 

Had  no  use  for  foreign  ways, 
Yet  lived  abroad  the  whole  year 

Complaining  alternatively  of  the  heat  and  the  cold. 

He  would  arrive  at  the  Villa  Jernyngham  in  September, 

The  month  of  locust-colored  baked  earth  and  ripe  grapes, 
And  leave  in  May  when  the  dark,  sweet  earth  seethed  with  flowers, 
When  he  would  go,  as  he  phrased  it  romantically,  "to  the  mountains." 

From  boyhood,  he  must  always  have  looked  older  than  his  contemporaries- 
So  that  now,  when  he  read  as  a  First  Lesson 


FLORENCE:     AT     THE     VILLA     JERNYNGHAM 


69 


That  philoprogenitive  catalogue 

"And  Irad  begat  Mehujael: 

And  Mehujael  begat  Methusael," 

I  would  expect  him  to  continue 

"And  Methusael  begat  Archdeacon  Sawnygrass" 
Though  he  in  no  way  resembled  the  venerable  elders  of  the  prime  of  the  world: 
His  clean-shaven  face  was  ruddy, 

His  eyes,  gray  as  English  skies. 
By  nature,  he  was  calm, 
And  would  rage  only  when  his  name  was  spelt  wrongly  on  an  envelope— 

Which  it  nearly  always  was. 

Archdeacon  Sawnygrass  did  much  good  work 

Among  the  rich, 
He  perpetually  attended  tea-parties 
And  was  careful  to  avoid  picture-galleries 
Where,  sooner  or  later,  he  was  sure  to  be  brought  up  short 
Against  a  Renaissance  nude— 

"Naked,"  he  would  complain  later, 

"Glaring  and  Large  as  Life." 


MRS.    SAWNYGRASS 

Mrs.  Sawnygrass, 

Exotic  bride  and  helpmeet  to  the  Archdeacon, 

Was  no  Renaissance  nude, 
But  a  flanneled  Lutheran  from  East  Prussia,  thoroughly 

Out  of  keeping  in  a  Latin  world 
Where  the  naturalness  of  life  frightened  her, 
As  did  the  teeming,  shouting  children 
And  the  number  of  wild  flowers  in  the  spring. 
She  would  not  let  the  sun  touch  her  anywhere. 

A  hotel-dweller,  and  thus  freed  from  house-work 

Her  life  would  have  been  empty,  for  people  did  not  interest  her, 
Had  she  not  divided  it  into  two  halves 

One  part  dedicated  to  playing  the  harmonium  for  her  husband, 

The  other  to  interpreting  the  meaning 

Of  the  Book  of  the  Revelation  of  St.  John 

According  to  a  method  of  her  own  devising— 

Exciting  as  a  gambler's  system. 

Alas, 

After  decades  and  decades  of  work  and 
Just  as  she  had  decided  finally  and  proved 

Beyond  possibility  of  contradiction 
That  the  Beast  was  the  Czar  of  Russia, 

The  Revolution  hurled  him  from  his  throne 

Leaving  the  chief  role  empty, 

And  Mrs.  Sawnygrass  had  to  start  all  over  again, 
But  in  the  end  she  substituted  Lenin. 

It  was  true,  she  thought,  that  Lenin  seemed  a  greater  Beast  than  the  Czar 
—Or  more  like  a  Beast— 


70 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 

Yet  she  felt  this  imperative  change  to  be  a  reflection  on  her  system, 
But  if  anyone  dared  to  dispute  the  matter  with  her, 
She  could  still  produce  her  old  irrefutable  argument, 
The  names  exploding  in  the  unaccustomed  ear, 
"Very  well,  then— but  how  do  you  account 
For  Omsk 
Tomsk 

And  Tobolsk?" 


COUNTESS   REPLICA 

Countess  Ripacotta  ""' 

Lived  on  a  table— 

I  do  not  mean  to  insinuate  by  roulette  or  baccarat. 
No,  she  had  become  an  antique  dealer  of  a  very  special  kind, 

The  amateur  as  expert: 

During  the  whole  year 
She  sold  only  one— and  apparently  always  the  same— object, 
But  at  the  disposal  of  this  phoenix 

Nobody  could  approach  her  in  virtuosity. 
In  brief,  she  lived  on  a  table— 

—The  Ripacotta  table,  of  unique  pattern  and  renown, 

At  which  Dante  had  sat. 

The  Countess,  by  birth  American, 

Had  married  the  handsome  head  of  a  famous  Italian  family, 

Which  union  had  impoverished  her. 
Now  a  widow,  and  ideal  image  of  an  Italian  Contessa, 
White  hair,  soft  voice,  and  features  delicate, 
She  never  looked  any  older 

—Or  any  younger. 

In  the  enticing  month  of  April 

She  would  be  sure  to  meet 

Old  friends  in  the  street, 
And  would  end  her  lively  chatter  of  long  ago  in  Ohio 
By  exclaiming 

"Why,  my  dear,  you've  never  been  to  see  my  table,  have  you; 

You  must  come  and  see  my  table,  all  my  friends  do. 

I  don't  know  how  long  we  shall  be  able  to  keep  it. 

—All  right,  then,  tomorrow  at  five,  at  the  Palazzo." 

The  next  evening  the  table  would  be  gone 

But  only  for  one  night. 
In  the  morning,  it  would  be  back, 

Waiting  for  next  year, 
Or  one  so  like  it  as  to  lend  support 
To  the  nickname,  Countess  Replica. 

It  never  looked  any  younger 
Or  any  older— 
But  it  outlived  the  Contessa. 


WHAT    BECAME    OF    BUSTER? 


What  became  of  Buster?  .  .  . 

What  became  of  Waring 

Is  of  little  account 

Beside  what  became  of  Buster, 
Buster,  fat  but  snapping  with  energy  like  a  cracker. 


FLORENCE:     AT     THE     VILLA     JERNYNGHAM 


71 


What  became  of  Buster 

Who  put  parents  in  a  fluster 

As  he  spun  and  sung  and  flung  and  tumbled  round  the  golden  garden 
Or  somersaulted,  giving  high,  shrieks  and  whistling  on  two  fingers 
Or  turned  cart-wheels  or  rumbled  into  the  library 

To  read  the  Paris  Edition  of  the  New  York  Herald, 
Drumming  on  the  wooden  table, 
Then  tornadoed  up  the  stairs  into  the  room  above 
And  slammed  out  on  the  piano  a  march  by  Sousa, 
What  became  of  Buster? 

Lean,  sullen,  sallow,  dehydrated,  and  dyspeptic 
He  turned  into  a  business  executive 
Made  so  much  money  that  he  died  at  forty; 
That  is  what  became  of  Buster 

—Nothing,  nothing  happened  to  Buster, 
Nothing  at  all. 
Or  he  made  a  different  fortune,  and  at  fifty 
Joined  the  ranks  of  Alcoholics  Anonymous  — 
That's  what  became  of  Buster 
Nothing, 

Nothing  at  all. 


What  became  of  Buster, 

Who  put  parents  in  a  fluster 
As  he  spun  and  sung  and  flung  and  tumbled  round  the  garden 

Or  somersaulted,  giving  high  shrieks  and  whistling  on  two  fingers 
Under  the  Italian  sun, 
What  became  of  Buster? 

His  skeleton  stood  for  a  year 
In  a  thicket  of  barbed  wire 
On  a  ridge  in  France— 
That's  what  became  of  Buster, 
Nothing  happened  to  Buster, 
Nothing  at  all. 

What  became  of  Buster 

Who  put  parents  in  a  fluster, 
As  he  spun  and  sung  and  flung  and  tumbled  round  the  garden 

Or  somersaulted,  giving  high  shrieks  or  whistling  on  two  fingers 
Under  the  Italian  sun— 
What  became  of  Buster? 

He  devoted  his  life  to  building  aircraft, 

So  as  to  promote  peace 

By  bringing  foreign  nations 

Nearer  to  each  other, 

And  his  only  son  was  killed  flying 

In  the  Second  World  War— 

That's  what  happened  to  Buster 
—Nothing  became  of  Buster, 
Nothing, 

Nothing  at  all. 


mm* 


Part  III:  Concluding  a  Series  by 
RALPH   E.   LAPP 

Drawings  by  Ben  Shahn 


^Mm 


The  Voyage  of  the  Lucky  Dragon 


How  the  "ashes  of  death"  touched  the  lives 

of  many  unsuspecting  people — including 

diplomats,  California  canners,  a  fisherman's 

daughters,  Lewis  Strauss,  and  perhaps 

(in  the  end  yet  to  come)  everybody  else. 

TH  E  testing  of  an  American  atomic  bomb 
at  Bikini,  on  March  1,  1954,  had  unfor- 
tunate echoes  in  Japan.  The  crewmen  of  a 
Japanese  fishing  vessel,  the  Lucky  Dragon,  which 
had  been  near  the  danger  area  and  had  under- 
gone a  strange  fall  of  dust  from  the  sky,  were  dis- 
covered to  be  suffering  from  radiation  sickness. 
In  the  fish  markets,  which  provide  most  of  the 
protein  for  Japan's  diet,  many  tuna  from  the 
Pacific  were  found  to  be  radioactive,  which 
caused  people  to  stop  buying  and  prices  to  drop 
disastrously. 

These  were  topics  of  great  public  concern  but 
also  great  ignorance,  and  so  many  contradictory 
statements  were  made  about  them  that  Japan's 
Foreign  Minister  Katsuo  Okazaki  told  the  Diet: 
"Some  say  eating  fish  is  dangerous.  Others  con- 
tend it  is  harmless.  Some  say  10  per  cent  of  the 
victims  will  die.  Others  aver  the  injuries  are 
slight.  Such  conflicting  statements  only  serve  to 
cause  anxiety." 

It  was  unfortunate  that  the  accident  at  Bikini 
involved  two  big  A's— Atomic  and  American, 
both  of  which  evoked  strong  sentiment  in  con- 


quered and  occupied  Japan.  Communist-domi- 
nated labor  unions  painted  a  very  black  picture 
of  the  bomb  tests,  claiming  that  they  would 
"doom  the  Japanese  nation  to  ruin."  Japanese 
officials  treated  the  incident  with  restraint. 

News  of  what  had  happened  to  the  Lucky 
Dragon  was  played  up  on  the  front  pages  of 
American  newspapers  on  March  17.  But  the 
question  of  the  radioactive  tuna  fish  was  subse- 
quently given  little  space  in  the  American  press, 
and  the  injuries  to  the  fishermen  were  mainly 
mentioned  through  comments  by  U.  S.  poli- 
ticians. The  New  York  Times  ran  photos  of  an 
injured  crewman  and  printed  a  chart  showing 
that  the  Lucky  Dragon  had  been  well  outside 
the  danger  zone  around  the  Eniwetok-Bikini 
Proving  Grounds.  But  in  general  the  reporting 
of  the  incident  in  American  newspapers  gave  no 
conception   of  its  importance  to  the  Japanese. 

President  Eisenhower  became  involved  on 
March  24,  1954,  in  the  course  of  a  weekly  press 
conference.  To  a  question  from  George  E.  Her- 
man, reporter  for  the  Columbia  Broadcasting 
System,  the  President  replied  (in  the  third  person 
form  then  approved  by  the  White  House): 

It  was  quite  clear  that  this  time  something 
must  have  happened  which  we  had  never 
experienced  before,  and  must  have  surprised 
and  astonished  the  scientists.  And  very  prop- 
erly, the  United  States  had  to  take  precautions 
that  had  never  occurred  to  them  before. 

Now,  in  the  meantime,  he  knew  nothing 

©  1958  by  Ralph  E.  Lapp 


THE     VOYAGE     OF     THE     LUCKY    DRAGON 


73 


of  the  details  of  this  case.  It  was  one  of  the 
things  that  Admiral  Strauss  was  looking  up, 
but  it  had  been  reported  to  him  that  reports 
were  far  more  serious  than  actual  results  jus- 
tified. 

After  the  President's  press  conference  the 
Atomic  Energy  Commission  released  a  detailed 
statement  which  concluded: 

The  opinion  of  the  Atomic  Energy  Com- 
mission scientific  staff  based  on  long-term 
studies  of  fish  in  the  presence  of  radioactivity 
is  that  there  is  negligible  hazard,  if  any,  in 
the  consumption  of  fish  caught  in  the  Pacific 
Ocean  outside  the  immediate  test  area  subse- 
quent to  tests.  .  .  .  Any  radioactivity  collected 
in  the  test  area  would  become  harmless  within 
a  few  miles  .  .  .  and  completely  undetectable 
within  500  miles  or  less.  .  .  . 

In  Japan  the  American  Ambassador,  John  M. 
Allison,  issued  a  similar  statement.  It  evoked 
angry  comment  from  leading  Japanese  scientists. 
Professor  Yashushi  Nishiwaki  of  Osaka  Uni- 
versity made  a  radio  broadcast  in  which  he 
stated:  "I  don't  know  which  Japanese  scientists 
co-operated  in  making  Allison's  statement,  but 
the  radioactivity  we  have  detected  was  certainly 
not  negligible."  In  a  Tokyo  broadcast  Professor 
Mituo  Taketani  of  St.  Paul  University  snapped: 
"Let's  send  the  highly  contaminated  fish  to  Mr. 
Allison  and  have  him  eat  it." 

The  official  AEC  reassurance  that  fish  could 
be  eaten  safely  did  not  stem  the  rising  tide  of 
fish  condemnations  in  Japan,  nor  did  it  restore 
confidence  among  buyers  in  the  fish  markets.  On 
March  27  the  Koei  Maru  (Radiant  Glory)  put 
into  the  thriving  port  of  Misaki  with  thirty-seven 
tons  of  tuna  which  was  found  to  be  radioactive 
above  the  level  established  by  the  Ministry  of 
Health  and  Welfare.  Japanese  officials  had  issued 
a  temporary  "danger  level"  (in  reality,  a  "worry 
level")  corresponding  to  100  counts  per  minute 
for  a  Geiger  counter  held  four  inches  away  from 
the  fish.  So  far  as  the  Japanese  people  were 
concerned,  the  numerical  value  of  100  was  not 
too  important.  They  looked  upon  the  situation 
in  an  all-or-none  light.  Either  the  fish  was  radio- 
active (and  therefore  dangerous  to  health)  or  it 
was  non-radioactive  (and  safe  to  eat).  Would  the 
situation  have  been  any  different  in  the  United 
States? 

Indeed,  experience  soon  showed  that  it  would 
not  have  been.  Shortly  after  the  contamination 
of  fish  became  news,  American  dealers  asked  the 
Japanese  to  observe  restrictions  of  a  rather  tech- 
nical nature,  calling  for  the  fish  to  be  examined 


closer  than  four  inches  and  for  detailed  inspec- 
tion around  the  gills.  Apparently  importers  did 
not  want  even  100  counts  per  minute.  This  dis- 
tressed the  Japanese  tuna  men,  who  felt  that 
Americans  were  setting  up  a  double  standard. 
On  one  hand  we  asserted  there  was  no  danger 
and  strongly  implied  that  the  Japanese  were  un- 
realistic about  radioactive  contamination  of  fish. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  rejected  even  slightly 
contaminated  tuna  for  our  own  consumption. 

The  West  Coast  tuna  canneries,  most  of  which 
are  concentrated  in  California,  were  alerted. 
Records  of  the  Food  and  Drug  Administration 
show  that  two  radioactive  fish  were  picked  up  at 
one  cannery.  No  details  other  than  that  the 
"radioactivity  was  insignificant"  are  available, 
but  it  is  known  that  a  secret  meeting  took  place 
between  representatives  of  the  tuna  industry, 
the  Food  and  Drug  Administration,  the  Atomic 
Energy  Commission,  and  the  State  Department. 
An  acceptable  level  of  radioactivity  was  agreed 
upon  at  this  meeting  but  the  level  was  classified 
as  "confidential"  and  not  released  to  the  public. 
This  degree  of  secrecy  is  an  interesting  com- 
mentary on  how  government  officials  viewed 
public  reaction  to  a  tuna  scare  in  the  U.  S. 

"inadvertent   trespass" 

NEWSMEN  in  Japan  have  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  the  most  aggressive  in  the 
world.  The  competition  between  rival  papers  is 
so  keen  that  the  leading  dailies  employ  stagger- 
ing numbers  of  reporters.  Stung  by  the  scoop  of 
the  Yomiuri,  which  had  the  original  Lucky 
Dragon  story  all  to  itself,  rival  papers  determined 
that  there  would  be  no  repetition  and  assigned 
large  numbers  of  staffmen  to  cover  the  radio- 
active contamination  of  fish.  Persistent  reporters 
also  hounded  scientists,  soliciting  comments,  at 
any  hour  of  dav  or  night,  on  each  new  facet  of 
the  Lucky  Dragon  incident.  One  might  say  that 
they  almost  haunted  Professor  Kenjiro  Kimura's 
laboratory  at  Tokyo  University,  where  an 
analysis  of  the  Bikini  ashes  was  being  made. 

Word  finally  came  from  Dr.  Kimura's  labora- 
tory that  some  of  the  radioactive  substances  in 
the  ashes  had  been  identified.  Elements  like  tel- 
lurium, niobium,  and  lanthanum  were  strange 
and  unknown,  but  one  word  struck  home.  It  was 
strontium-90.  The  deadliest  of  all  radioactive 
substances  had  been  identified  from  the  pinch  of 
dust  which  had  come  to  rest  on  the  decks  of  the 
Lucky  Dragon!  A  collective  shudder  ran  through 
millions  of  Japanese.  Strontium-90,  a  chemical 
cousin  to  calcium,  gives  off  no  penetrating  radia- 


74 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


tion.  Yet  it  seeks  out  the  bone  and  deposits  there, 
"living"  for  a  long  time— half  of  its  radioactivity 
would  still   remain   after  twenty-eight  years. 

Against  this  background  of  mounting  anxiety, 
the  Japanese  government  issued  a  statement  to 
the  U.  S.  Ambassador,  outlining  the  results  of  its 
[ > 1 1  J i 1 1 1 i 1 1 . 1 1  \  investigation  of  the  Lucky  Dragon 
accident.  This  official  document  was  obviously 
a  first  step  in  negotiations  for  compensation  of 
the  Lucky  Dragon  fishermen,  which  Japanese 
newspapers  kept  demanding.  But  while  the 
negotiations  were  under  way,  Congressmen 
returned  from  viewing  another  H-bomb  test  in 
the  Pacific  and  it  was  rumored  in  American 
weekly  magazines  that  a  superbomb,  the  equal 
of  45  million  tons  of  TNT,  would  soon  be 
exploded.  This  evoked  from  India's  Jawaharlal 
Nehru  a  plea  that  the  tests  in  the  Pacific  be 
stopped.  "I  believe  it  is  proposed  to  have  a 
bigger  show  in  the  middle  of  April,"  said  the 
Prime  Minister.  "This  only  reminds  me  of  the 
genie  that  came  out  of  the  bottle,  ultimately 
swallowing  the  man."    Many  Japanese  agreed. 

As  this  storm  of  controversy  was  brewing  across 
the  Pacific,  Admiral  Lewis  L.  Strauss,  Chairman 
of  the  Atomic  Energy  Commission  and  the  Presi- 
dential personal  adviser  on  atomic  matters,  re- 
leased a  lengthy  statement,  of  which  the  follow- 
ing excerpts  are  pertinent: 

Warning  Area:  ".  .  .  there  are  many  instances 
where  accidents  or  near  accidents  have  resulted 
from  inadvertent  trespass  in  such  warning  areas. 
The  very  size  of  them  makes  it  impossible  to 
fence  or  police  them." 

The  Lucky  Dragon:  "Japanese  fishing  trawler, 
the  Fortunate  Dragon,  appears  to  have  been 
missed  by  the  search  but,  based  on  a  statement 
attributed  to  her  skipper,  to  the  effect  that  he 
saw    the   flash   of   the   explosion   and   heard    the 


concussion  six  minutes  later,  it  must  have 
well  within  the  danger  area." 

The  Japanese  Fishermen:  "The  situation  | 
respect  to  the  twenty-three  Japanese  fisherm 
less  certain  clue  to  the  fact  that  our  people  i 
not  yet  been  permitted  by  the  Japanese  aut 
ties  to  make  a  proper  clinical  examination. 
interesting  to  note,  however,  that  reports  w 
have  recently  come  through  to  us  indicate , 
the  blood  count  of  these  men  is  comparabll 
that    of    our    weather-station    personnel, 
lesions  observed  are  thought  to  be  due  td 
chemical    activity   of   the  converted   materia 
the  coral  rather  than  to  radioactivity,  since  t 
lesions  are  said  to  be  already  healing." 

Contaminated  Fish:  "With  respect  to) 
stories  concerning  widespread  contaminatioj 
tuna  and  other  fish  as  a  result  of  the  tests] 
facts  do  not  confirm  them.  The  only  cont 
nated  fish  discovered  were  those  in  the  open 
of  the  Japanese  trawler.  Commissioner  Craw 
of  the  United  States  Food  and  Drug  Admini 
tion  has  advised  us:  'Our  inspectors  founc 
instance  of  radioactivity  in  any  shipments  ol 
from  Pacific  waters.  .  .  .  There  is  no  occasion 
for  public  apprehension  about  this  type  of 
tamination.' " 

Conceivably,  one  might  explain  the 
Chairman's  extraordinary  remarks  as  base< 
insufficient  data  or  technical  misunderstanc 
However,  he  has  never  retracted  them,  ai 
year  afterwards  he  told  the  Joint  Committe 
Atomic  Energy:  "It  is  interesting  in  rerea 
the  statement  to  see  that  it  does  comport 
stantially  with  what  we  have  since  learned,  j 
is  to  say,  there  are  no  glaring  inaccuracies  in 
At  this  point  the  Admiral  paused  and  ad 
"There  are  lacunae  of  course."  That  is,  t 
are  omissions.  But  it  was  not  the  omiss 
that  troubled  the  Japanese.  It  was  the  obi 
insinuation  that  their  fishermen  had  beei 
fault  but  had  not  been  injured,  and  that  fis 
the  Japanese  markets  were  not  radioactive 
of  this  they  knew  to  be  untrue. 

While  the  rift  between  the  two  nai 
widened,  the  attentions  of  the  Japanese  tu 
to  the  two  hospitals  in  Tokyo  to  which  the  fi 
men  from  the  Lucky  Dragon  had  been  ti 
ferred.  All  of  the  men  were  suffering  to  a 
degree  from  a  depressed  level  of  white  and 
blood  cells.  To  combat  their  anemia,  the 
were  given  repeated  transfusions,  and  antibii 
were  administered  to  bolster  their  resistant 

Sexual    cells    are    also    extremely   sensitive 
radiation,     and     during     April     and     May 
spermatozoa    counts   of   the    fishermen    droj 


THE     VOYAGE     OF     THE     LUCKY     DRAGON 


75 


precipitously.  For  the  moment  they  were  com- 
pletely sterile. 

As  their  physical  condition  declined,  they  be- 
came more  and  more  worried— especially  by  the 
sensational,  and  sometimes  distorted,  accounts 
I  of  their  illness  which  appeared  in  the  press.  One 
newspaper  article,  purporting  to  represent  an 
open  letter  from  Japanese. to  American  doctors, 
charged  the  United  States  with  failing  to  answer 
requests  for  advice  on  how  to  treat  the  men. 

Actually,  the  United  States  made  antibiotics 
freely  available  and  would  never  have  hesitated 
to  supply  anything  the  Japanese  doctors  re- 
quested—with two  exceptions.  One  was  adequate 
knowledge  to  treat  the  effects  of  radiation,  for 
this  was  beyond  anyone's  power,  and  the  other 
was  the  answer  to  the  riddle  of  the  ashes— which 
was  within  our  power  but  which  came  under  the 
dark  shadow  of  "national  security." 

As  spring  came  to  Tokyo,  the  patients  were 
encouraged  by  the  healing  of  their  skin  lesions 
and  the  regrowth  of  body  hair.  This  was  a  good 
sign,  for  with  near-lethal  doses  of  radiation  there 
may  be  permanent  impairment  of  hair  growth. 
It  looked  as  though  they  had  passed  the  low 
point  and  were  now  on  the  upswing.  All  Japan 
breathed  a  little  easier,  too,  when  the  United 
States  announced  in  mid-May  that  the  1954 
Bikini  bomb  tests  in  the  Pacific  (known  as  the 
"Castle"  series)  had  been  concluded. 

THE     RIDDLE     OF     THE     ASHES 

\\  /HAT  were  the  "ashes  of  death"— the 
VV  shi  no  hat— which  had  fallen  from  the 
skies  upon  the  decks  of  the  Lucky  Dragon}  Three 
times  this  question  was  put  to  American  repre- 
sentatives by  Japanese  doctors  and  scientists,  and 
twice  it  went  unanswered.  The  third  time,  a 
U.  S.  scientist,  Mr.  Merril  Eisenbud,  director  of 
the  AEC's  Health  and  Safety  Laboratory,  made 
the  enigmatic  reply:  "Ask  Dr.  Kimura." 

Dr.  Kenjiro  Kimura,  a  brilliant  radiochemist, 
was  no  newcomer  to  atomic  research.  When  the 
sensational  news  was  flashed  around  the  world 
in  1939  that  the  uranium  atom  had  been  split, 
he  had  teamed  up  with  the  great  Japanese 
physicist  Nishina;  they  readily  split  the  atom,  a 
simple  trick  once  you  knew  that  it  could  be  done, 
and  in  addition  they  identified  some  new  frag- 
ments of  the  split.  On  bombarding  a  sample  of 
natural  uranium,  the  Japanese  discovered  that 
they  had  produced  an  entirely  new,  hitherto 
unknown,  type  of  uranium.  They  named  it 
uranium-237. 

When  Dr.   Kimura  and   his   staff   tackled   the 


job  of  analyzing  the  Lucky  Dragon  ash,  he  had 
no  doubt  that  most  of  its  radioactivity  was  due  to 
the  split  atoms  of  uranium.  Though  he  could 
not  tell  from  his  research  whether  the  atomic 
fragments  were  uranium-235  or  uranium-238,  he 
never  seriously  doubted  that  they  belonged  to 
the  former.  At  that  time  only  uranium-235  was 
known  to  be  useful  in  a  bomb.  But  after  he  had 
made  several  preliminary  reports,  he  received  a 
very  helpful,  yet  somewhat  puzzling  letter  from 
Merril  Eisenbud.  It  contained  the  following 
paragraph  on  the  composition  of  the  ash: 

We  have  found  that  the  radioisotopes  pres- 
ent in  the  ash  are  consistent  with  the  data 
given  in  "Nuclei  Formed  in  Fission*,"  pub- 
lished in  the  Journal  of  the  American  Chem- 
ical Society,  volume  68,  page  2411,  November 
1946.  The  curve  given  for  slow  neutron  fission 
is  applicable  to  the  ash  except  for  atomic 
masses  103  through  130.  The  important 
fission  products  are  in  maximal  portions  of 
the  curve  and  can  be  read  quantitatively 
within  experimental  error. 

This  information  confirmed  what  Dr.  Kimura 
already  knew,  but  the  sentence  about  atomic 
masses  103  through  130  caused  him  to  wrinkle 
his  brow.  Why  should  these  atoms  be  out  of 
line?  What  kind  of  bomb  had  the  Americans 
developed  which  altered  the  very  nature  of  the 
fission  process? 

When  the  most  urgent  analytical  work  had 
been  finished,  Professor  Kimura  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  a  chemical  solution  which  contained  "the 
uranium  fraction,"  that  is,  the  various  forms  of 
uranium  which  were  chemically  separated  from 
the  ashes.  It  exhibited  unusually  high  radio- 
activity. All  the  usual  forms  of  uranium  were 
long-lived,  and  therefore  should  not  produce 
many  counts,  but  this  solution  caused  the  Geiger 
counter  to  chatter  vigorously.  Careful  processing 
of  the  solution  showed  that  it  was  not  mixed 
with  other  elements,  and  examination  of  the 
radioactivity  showed  that  half  of  it  dissipated 
in  about  a  week.  Could  it  be  uranium-237?  But, 
if  so,  what  was  it  doing  in  the  ashes? 

At  the  end  of  May,  Professor  Kimura  traveled 
to  the  beautiful  city  of  Kyoto  to  attend  the  pro- 
fessional chemical  society  meetings  there.  At  a 
Japanese  inn,  prior  to  the  meeting,  he  discussed 
his  data  with  other  scientists  and  decided  to 
announce  his  discovery.  The  next  day,  address- 
ing several  hundred  scientists,  the  discoverer  of 
U-237  told  of  his  research  on  the  Bikini  ash. 
"It  was  truly  a  source  of  profound  emotion,"  he 
began,   "when,  during  the  present  experiments, 


76 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


l  237  was  unexpectedly  again  encountered."  A 
hush  Milled  ovei  the  group,  and  then  a  numbei 
dI  scientists  broke  the  silence,  murmuring  to 
others:  "What  does  ii  mean?"  After  the  presen- 
tation, they  asked  Dr.  Kimura  and  he  replied: 
"I  am  not  sine." 

When  he  returned  to  Tokyo,  Dr.  Kimura 
consulted  with  a  fellow  scientist,  Professoi 
Mituo  Taketani,  the  physicist  at  St.  Paul  Uni- 
versity in  Tokyo.  Dr.  Taketani,  a  rather  high- 
strung  man  who  will  refuse  to  attend  a  con- 
ference il  cigarette  smoking  is  permitted,  pointed 
out  that  the  only  way  to  produce  uranium-237 
was  to  bombard  uranium-238  with  very  high 
energy  neutrons.  He  estimated  that  a  "few  hun- 
dred kilograms  ol  uranium"  must  have  fissioned 
in  the  Bikini  explosion.  This  would  mean  that 
a  good  fraction  ol  a  ton  ol  uranium  was  in- 
volved, not  rare  and  expensive  uranium-235,  but 
cheap  and  abundant  natural  uranium.  If  this 
was  true,  the  Bikini  bomb  ushered  in  an  era  of 
bombs  without  limit  in  power— bombs  which 
would  produce  such  a  fearful  radioactive  fall-out 
that  their  ashes  could  kill  people  a  hundred 
miles  down-wind  of  the  explosions. 

The  conclusion  that  the  Bikini  bomb  was  not 
a  pure  hydrogen  bomb  but  a  weapon  which 
tapped  the  energy  of  natural  uranium  was  also 
reached  by  Dr.  Nishiwaki  in  his  laboratory  at 
Osaka.  Actually,  he  had  hit  upon  the  correct 
solution  soon  after  he  started  studying  the  con- 
tamination ol  Bikini  fish,  joking  with  some  of 
his  colleagues,  Dr.  Nishiwaki  said:  "Maybe  there 
is  a  good  natural  uranium  mine  at  Bikini."  It 
"was  a  wild  guess,  but  oddly  enough  the  basic 
principle  involved  was  correct,  except  that  in- 
stead of  a  uranium  mine  on  the  Bikini  island 
there  was  a  mantle  of  uranium  wrapped  around 
the  bomb. 

Thus,  in  the  spring  of  1954,  Japanese  scien- 
tists had  managed  to  discover  the  secret  about 
the  bomb  which  the  United  States  was  still  trying 
to  safeguard.  Suddenly,  it  became  clear  to  Dr. 
Kimura  why  Merril  Eisenbud  had  worded  his 
letter  of  April  8  so  carefully.  Eisenbud  had  tried 
very  hard  to  tell  the  Japanese  professors  as  much 
as   he  could  without  violating  security. 

It  was  inevitable  that  Japanese  scientists  would 
discover  the  truth  once  they  started  analyzing 
the  ashes.  The  scientist  who  originally  found 
uranium-237  could  scarcely  be  expected  to  over- 
look it  when  it  was  put  right  under  his  nose. 
This  being  the  case,  the  United  States  would 
have  shown  itself  in  a  much  better  light  if  it 
had  come  out  in  the  open  early  in  March  and 
told  the   Japanese   the  lull  nature  of  the  radio- 


active  contamination.  We  could  e\en,  in  h 
days  immediatel)  aftei  the  explosion,  have  s. e( 
ilit-  fishermen  from  its  worst  effects. 


WHAT     MIGHT     HAVE     BE] 


Til  E  Lucky  Dragon  was  not  the  only 
dusted  with  Eall-out.  A  task  force  of] 
U.S.  naval  vessels,  rendezvoused  thirty  i 
from  Bikini,  was  standing  bv  to  observe 
detonation  in  an  area  thought  to  be  sab. 
cers  aboard  the  ships  watched  the  enorn 
mushroom  cloud  as  it  dispersed  in  the  st 
sphere  and  they  noted  that  the  winds  were  j 
ing  remnants  of  the  cloud  toward  them,  j 
an  hour  later,  Geiger  counters  on  deck  startj 
react  and  orders  were  given  to  clear  the  dec! 

The  ships  were  "buttoned  up"— that  is 
hands  went  below  after  securing  the  ha^ 
and  portholes.  Even  the  ships'  ventilators 
covered.  Then  vast  quantities  of  water 
sprayed  over  the  ships  by  special  pipes  I 
nozzles,  specifically  designed  to  wash  off  rad 
tive  contamination.  The  ships  were  maneuv 
by  radar  since  the  water  spray  made  visil 
very  poor.  For  over  half  a  day,  the  crews  swe 
it  out  below  decks  in  the  tropical  heat.  Fir 
it  was  judged  safe  to  "unbutton"  the  ship 
the  men  came  out  on  deck.  Wearing  rd 
suits,  hoods,  and  masks  they  proceeded  to  a 
up  traces  of  fall-out  which  the  protective.se 
of  water  had  failed  to  wash  away. 

The  Atomic  Energy  Commission  and  De 
Department  thus  knew  within  a  few  hours 
the  March  I  test  that  something  had  gone  wi 
Within  a  few  more  hours,  Radiological  S 
Headquarters  for  the  Task  Force  had  a  good 
of  the  dimensions  and  intensity  of  the  fall 
Yet  no  warning  was  broadcast  to  ships  in 
vicinity.  Test  administrators  knew  within  ; 
more  hours  that  the  eastern  end  of  the  dzj 
zone  was  no  longer  a  proper  limit  for  sa 
Why  did  not  the  test  officials  break  radio  si; 
and  broadcast  a  general  warning  over  that] 
of  the  Pacific? 

Officials   charged    with    responsibility    for 
conduct  of  the  "Castle"  series  of  nuclear 
might  respond  that  the  area  had  been  sean 
They  had  no  reason  to  believe  any  foreign 
were   in   the   vicinity.    Yet    no   one   aboard 
Lucky  Dragon  either  on  February  28  or  Ma 
saw  or  heard  any  aircraft,   ft  seems  highly  ] 
able  that  the  lips  of  test  officials  were  scale 
the  same  security  precautions  which  attende 
previous    tests.      An    announcement    made 
next  day  said  nothing  about  an  accident. 


it 


H 


I: 


tl 


THE     VOYAGE     OF     THE     LUCKY     DRAGON 


77 


Had  the  Lucky  Dragon  received  word  on 
March  1  that  there  had  been  an  accident,  Kubo- 
yama  could  have  radioed  for  assistance.  The  sim- 
plest of  instructions  would  have  allowed  the 
fishermen  to  decontaminate  themselves  and  their 
boat.  The  Task  Force  could  have  sent  destroyers 
to  the  scene  and  removed  the  men  from  their 
hazardous  home.  As  the  timetable  of  radioac- 
tivity makes  clear,  the  dose  to  the  fishermen 
could  have  been  cut  in  half.  This  is  all  "what 
might  have  been,"  for  there  was  no  news  of  the 
Bikini  accident  until  many  days  later,  when  the 
damage  had  already  been  done. 

To  Icok  at  the  other  side  of  the  coin,  why  did 
not  the  fishermen  radio  for  help?  First,  no  one 
on  board  suspected  at  the  time  that  the  ash  was 
dangerous.  Having  left  the  area,  the  men  aboard 
the  little  fishing  boat  felt  that  they  were  safe. 
Second,  the  fishermen  were  terrified  of  what 
might  happen  to  them  if  they  were  taken  into 
custody  by  Americans.  This  may  sound  incred- 
ible to  American  ears,  but  one  must  remember 
the  isolation  and  gullibility  of  the  Japanese 
fishermen.  Third,  no  one  aboard  had  acute 
enough  symptoms  to  jolt  the  boat's  command 
into  seeking  medical  aid. 

In  the  same  realm  of  speculation,  it  is  inter- 
esting to  note  that  had  the  fishermen  headed 
north  immediately  after  the  detonation,  as  the 
Chief  Engineer  desired,  they  would  have  es- 
caped most  of  the  fall-out.  As  it  happened,  they 
were  on  the  northern  edge  of  the  immense  cigar- 
shaped  pattern  and  they  could  have  soon  been 
out  of  it  had  they  proceeded  north  at  full  speed. 
They  probably  would  have  received  some  con- 
tamination but  it  would  not  have  required  months 
of  hospitalization.  They  could  have  saved,  had 
they  known  it,  Aikichi  Kuboyama's  life. 


T 


DUST    IN     THE     WIND 

H  E  fishermen  were  hopeful  that  before 
the  summer  was  over  they  would  be  al- 
lowed to  leave  the  hospital  and  return  to  their 
homes  in  Yaizu.  Some  spoke  of  returning  to  the 
sea  again,  but  others  announced  a  preference  for 
staying  on  land.  Kuboyama,  who  loved  sea  life, 
startled  his  companions  by  asserting  that  he 
would  open  up  a  sake  shop  and  go  into  business 
for  himself.  His  proposal,  made  repeatedly, 
evoked  the  uniform  reply:  "Almost  all  the  sake 
in  your  shop  will  be  drunk  by  you." 

Doctor  Toshiyuki  Kumatori  had  developed  a 
strong  friendship  for  Kuboyama.  He  recognized 
that  the  radioman  was  the  most  intelligent  of 
the  crew  and  he  would  often  discuss  rather  tech- 


nical details  with  him,  with  the  result  that 
Kuboyama  became  well  acquainted  with  his  own 
case  history.  He  knew,  for  example,  that  his 
white  blood  cell  count  had  dipped  to  1,900  in 
April  and  that  his  bone  marrow  count  had  shown 
a  precipitous  drop-off. 

As  he  wrote  in  a  letter  dated  April  17  to  his 
friend  at  the  Yaizu  wireless  shop,  "The  best  way 
to  cure  this  disease,  I  was  told,  is  by  blood  trans- 
fusions. The  older  the  person,  the  stronger  [they 
are]  affected.  The  reason  why  this  is  so  is  that  the 
blood-making  ability  in  the  marrow  of  the  bone 
is  not  as  strong  as  in  younger  men." 

Kuboyama  was  much  concerned  about  the 
health  of  his  companions,  almost  all  of  whom 
were  bachelors.  He  told  his  nephew  Shiro:  "I 
might  say  that  I  could  be  satisfied  with  the  three 
daughters  that  I  already  have,  but  you  young 
bachelors  could  probably  not  have  children  in 
the  future  if  you  get  married.  That's  the  prob- 
lem." He  was  incensed  when  he  learned  that  a 
girl  who  had  promised  to  marry  one  of  the  crew 
broke  off  the  romance  after  the  accident. 

Once  a  television  set  was  installed  in  Room 
311,  Kuboyama  became  a  passionate  TV  fan. 
Somehow  or  other  he  always  managed  to  get  the 
best  spot  to  view  the  screen,  especially  when 
Sumoo  wrestling  matches  were  televised.  He  read 
the  newspapers  daily  to  keep  up  on  the  wrestlers 
and  followed  the  matches  avidly.  But  neither 
television  nor  newspapers  were  enough  to  occupy 
Kuboyama.  He  asked  the  head  nurse  to  teach 
him  how  to  knit,  and  received  permission  to 
knit  for  one  hour  each  day.  At  first  his  hands 
were  awkward  and  he  was  all  thumbs  trying  to 
handle  the  knitting  needles.  But  he  stuck  to  it 
and  two  months  later  finished  a  sweater  for  his 
eldest  girl  Miyako,  to  whom  he  wrote: 

Thank  you  for  your  letter.  You're  fine,  aren't 
you?  Papa  is  greatly  relieved  to  know  this.  As 
it  is  getting  warmer  day  after  day,  you  will 
be  going  to  the  seashore  or  river  to  play.  Be 
careful  not  to  be  washed  away  by  the  waves  or 
the  water.  Take  care  not  to  make  your  sisters 
Yasuko  and  Sayoko  cry.  And  study  hard  and 
wait  until  your  papa  comes  home. 

Late  in  June,  Kuboyama  experienced  a  moder- 
ately severe  attack  of  jaundice  and  complained  of 
pain  in  his  liver.  In  writing  to  a  friend  in  July, 
he  described  his  yellow  color  as  "rather  strong 
and  fifteen  times  as  much  as  in  an  ordinary  per- 
son." He  wrote  that  he  felt  dull  and  had  no 
appetite.  "That  is  a  great  pain  to  me,"  he  com- 
plained. Though  two-thirds  of  the  crewmen  had 
jaundice,    the   others   soon   recovered   from   the 


78 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


attacks.  But  Kuboyama's  persisted  and  his  white 
blood  cell  count  did  not  go  up.  But  he  hoped 
that  when  the  weather  improved  and  got  cooler, 
he  might  recover  and  go  back  to  Yaizu. 

Kuboyama  was  very  proud  of  the  sweater  lie 
knitted  for  his  first  child  and  he  bought  some 
yarn  for  a  second  one.  He  started  knitting  the 
red  garment  and  when  his  wife  came  to  see  him 
he  smiled  and  said:  "Well,  I've  got  to  knit  one 
more,  don't  I?"  However,  as  he  became  sicker, 
progress  on  his  knitting  slowed  and  then  stopped. 
During  August  his  condition  steadily  grew  worse. 
His  crewmates  grew  increasingly  concerned  over 
his  health,  and  some  religious  groups  tried  to  in- 
terest him  in  their  beliefs.  He  was  not  impressed. 
"A  doctor  is  my  God,"  Kuboyama  said. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  month,  Mrs.  Kubo- 
yama came  to  Tokyo  with  her  daughters.  When 
she  arrived  at  the  hospital,  Dr.  Kumatori  told 
her,  "The  jaundice  is  becoming  severe  and  his 
condition  is  serious."  She  came  close  to  her  hus- 
band's bed,  noting  the  half-finished  sweater  on 
the  side  table.  "How  is  the  jaundice?"  she  asked. 

"My  darling,  did  you  cut  your  hands?"  he 
said.  His  wife  shook  her  head,  wondering  why  he 
asked,  for  her  hands  were  not  hurt.  Kuboyama 
moved  his  body  painfully  and  repeated  the  ques- 
tion. Then  he  said,  "It's  no  use  to  do  any  more. 
M\  sufferings  are  already  too  great." 

On  August  30  he  was  only  half-conscious  and 
could  not  speak  to  his  daughters,  or  to  the  other 
crewmen  who  had  come  to  see  him.  "Kyoku- 
cho-san,"  they  said,  "cheer  up,"  looking  at  the 
unmoving  form  in  the  bed.  "Keep  your  spirits 
up,"  they  added,  but  there  was  no  response  or 
sign  of  recognition  from  Kuboyama. 

The  next  night  he  became  delirious.  He 
called  out  his  wife's  name  over  and  over:  "Suzu, 
Suzu  .  .  ."  and  his  arms  and  legs  shook  violently, 
so  that  Dr.  Kumatori  needed  help  to  restrain 
him.  His  only  reaction  was  to  mutter:  "Let  go. 
Let  go."  Then  he  fell  into  such  a  deep  coma 
that  he  did  not  wince  even  when  given  a  sharp 
pinch.  He  was  given  an  oxygen  tube  to  facilitate 
breathing.  Dr.  Kumatori  went  without  sleep  and 
did  not  even  take  time  to  shave.  For  three  days 
he  stayed  on  duty  and  appeared  at  a  press  con- 
ference hollow-cheeked,  haggard,  and  unshaven. 

At  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  September 
4,  the  stricken  seaman  finally  regained  conscious- 
ness and  at  noon  he  asked  for  water.  That  eve- 
ning Kuboyama  felt  better  and  smiled  at  his 
family  gathered  by  his  bedside.  "I  want  to  eat 
fish  and  pickles,"  he  said.  The  next  day  he  was 
able  to  take  some  food  and  he  recognized  his 
fellow   patients.     B\    mid-September,    the   Yaizu 


fisherman  was  feeling  so  good  that  he  resun 
his  habit  ol  worrying  about  weather.  But  on  i 
night  oi  September  20  Kuboyama  was  again 
on  the  critical  list.  His  heart  showed  sign., 
weakness  and  his  appetite  disappeared,  ; 
though  he  remained  lulh  conscious  he  scemcc 
great  pain.  Once  he  cried  out:  "My  body  fi 
like  it  is  burned  with  electricity.  Undei 
body  there  must  be  a  high-tension  wire." 

The  family  was  summoned  to  his  bedside  o_ 
again.    His  seventy-two-year-old  mother  held 
head   in   her  arms,  cradling  him   as   though 
were   a   baby.    "Okaa-san    [mother],    I'll    becq 
well  again,"  he  whispered.    "Really?"   she  s; 
"Promise  me  so."  Kuboyama  looked  at  Dr.  Ki 
atori   as   if  seeking   an    answer   and    the   do 
urged  him  to  hold  out.    So  he  nodded  his  h 
to  his  mother  and  said  faintly,  "Yes,  I  hold  oi 

But  at  a  few  minutes  before  seven  on  Septtl 
ber  23  Dr.  Kumatori  bent  over  Kuboyama 
examined  him  with  a  stethoscope.    He  turne 
the  family  and  said  very  quietly,  "Now  it  is 
last  moment."    With  that  Kumatori  buried 
head  in  his  hands  and  sobbed. 

Kuboyama's  mother  cried  out.  "Aikichi, 
break  your  promise.  Aikichi  .  .  .  you  .  .  ."  but  1 
son  did  not  answer.  Mrs.  Kuboyama,  te 
streaming  down  her  lace,  lifted  a  tiny  cupi 
water  to  her  husband's  lips— a  gesture  symbo 
ing  his  last  "earthly  drink."  A  few  seconds  la 
he  died. 

Dr.  Kumatori  faced  a  group  of  newsmen 
7:30  p.m.  with  quivering  lips  and  tearful 
As  if  arguing  with  himself,  he  said:  "What 
thinking  about  now  is  .  .  .  was  there  any  lack 
effort  in  my  treatment  of  him?    Why  is  sue! 
miserable  thing  permitted   to  happen?" 

All  through  the  night  wireless  messages  fnj 
ships  at  sea  were  received  at  the  hospital.  Fi 
ing  boats  thousands  of  miles  away  relayed  t 
news  and  the  crews  sent  their  sympathy  to  t 
family.  And  on  the  next  day  the  American  A 
bassador  sent  a  note  to  the  Japanese  Minister 
Foreign  Affairs  enclosing  a  letter  for  Mrs.  Kul 
yama  and  "a  check  for  one  million  yen  made  c 
to  her  as  a  token  of  sympathy  of  the  Americ 
government  and  people." 

ON  OCTOBER  9  the  fishermen  of  Yai 
gathered  at  the  public  hall  for  a  funeral  ce 
mony.  In  port  some  thirty  fishing  boats  fli 
black  flags  of  mourning.  About  three  thousa; 
persons  attended  the  ceremony,  along  with  hi: 
officials  of  the  Japanese  government  and  a  rep 
sentative  of  the  U.S.  Embassy.  A  message  frc 
Ambassador  John  M.  Allison  was  read,  in  whi 


• 


THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  LUCKY  DRAGON 


79 


he  said  that  "no  word  of  comfort  can  repair  the 
loss  of  this  man  to  his  family,  nothing  can  dispel 
the  sorrow  of  his  doctors  who  labored  so  devot- 

'  edly  to  save  him,  no  action  by  his  countrymen 
or  mine  can  undo  what  has  happened.  In  these 
respects  and  in  many  others  too,  we  are  as  the 

rHeike  Monogatari  truly  says,  'only  dust  in  the 

iface  of  the  wind.'  " 

The  minister's  reference  to  Heike  Monogatari 
must  have  been  a  welcome  one  to  the  Japanese, 
for  the  saga  of  the  Heike  clan  is  a  national  leg- 
end about  a  family  which  ruled  Japan  in  me- 
dieval times— a  tragic  yet  appealing  story. 

It  was  a  funeral  such  as  the  village  of  Yaizu 
had  rarely  seen.  Because  of  the  importance  of 
the  occasion,  many  priests  chanted  their  prayers, 
as  they  would  have  for  a  wealthy  man.  There 
was  no  music  but  the  priests  provided  accom- 
paniment by  rhythmically  toeing  a  wooden  bell 
placed  on  the  ground.  The  mokugyo,  about  two 
feet  in  diameter,  emitted  a  deep,  doleful  sound. 
Two  hundred  students  from  Shizuoka  Univer- 
sity sang  "A-bomb  Never  Forgiven"  after  the 
ceremony,  and  at  the  end  a  score  of  white  pigeons 
were  released  into  the  air.  It  was  already  dark 
when  the  funeral  procession  wound  its  way  to- 
ward the  family  temple,  about  five  minutes'  walk 
from  the  Kuboyama  house.  Walking  in  front  of 
her  mother,  the  eldest  daughter  carried  a  mortu- 
ary tablet,  a  rectangular  piece  of  wood  on  which 
were  written  the  words  "The  soul  of  the  de- 
ceased Aikichi  Kuboyama."  The  second  daugh- 
ter carried  a  large  photograph  of  her  father, 
while  Mrs.  Kuboyama  carried  the  boxed  urn. 

So  the  ashes  of  Aikichi  Kuboyama,  an  "inno- 
cent victim,"  a  fisherman  and  a  radio  operator, 
were  laid  to  rest  in  the  marble  vault  on  the 
mountainside  of  his  birthplace  at  Yaizu. 


tuna  industry.  The  Lucky  Dragon  itself,  stripped 
down  and  decontaminated,  was  purchased  by  the 
government.  Renamed  the  Hayabusa-Maru  (Dark 
Falcon),  it  became  a  training  vessel  for  the  Uni- 
versity of  Tokyo's  Fisheries  School. 

Kuboyama  died  of  a  liver  disorder,  which 
might  have  been  brought  on  either  by  blood 
transfusions  or  by  the  original  radiation.  Though 
there  have  been  arguments  about  the  "cause"  of 
his  death,  they  are  rather  pointless;  if  he  had  not 
been  dusted  with  radioactive  ashes  he  would  not 
have  needed  the  transfusions,  and  if  he  had  not 
been  aboard  the  Lucky  Dragon  he  would  not 
have  died.  To  him,  and  to  the  other  crewmen, 
we  owe  knowledge  we  might  otherwise  not 
possess.  But  for  the  accident  that  befell  them 
on  March  1,  1954,  the  world  might  still  be  in  the 
dark  about  the  superbomb,  for  three  years  after 
the  explosion  U.  S.  government  officials  still 
refused  to  acknowledge  the  real  nature  of  the 
device  detonated  at  Bikini. 

Instead,  they  have  touted  the  virtues  of  a 
"humanitarian"  bomb— an  adjective  so  absurd 
that  it  was  soon  replaced  by  "clean."  The  se- 
mantic nonsense  about  the  "clean"  bomb  con- 
tinues. Perhaps  it  is  more  dangerous  than  mere 
nonsense,  since  it  implies  a  kind  of  aseptic  war, 
thus  removing  the  element  of  terror  and  hence 
of  restraint  from  the  use  of  nuclear  weapons. 

The  true  striking  power  of  the  atom  was 
revealed  on  the  decks  of  the  Lucky  Dragon. 
When  men  a  hundred  miles  from  an  explosion 
can  be  killed  by  its  silent  touch,  the  world  sud- 
denly becomes  too  small  a  place  for  men  to 
clutch  such  weapons.  And  for  this  truth,  gained 
from  the  misadventure  of  twenty-three  men,  we 
may  one  day  rank  their  voyage  with  that  of 
Columbus. 


ASEPTIC     WAR  ? 

HI S  shipmates  were  soon  to  re- 
cover. All  of  them  had  been 
discharged  from  the  hospital  by  May  10 
and  have  since  returned,  with  minor 
exceptions,  to  health.  Their  sterility 
was  not  permanent.  Several  of  the 
bachelors  have  married  and  had  nor- 
mal, healthy  children.  Eventually  the 
United  States  presented  the  Japanese 
government  with  two  million  dollars' 
compensation— ex  gratia,  implying  no 
culpability— of  which  each  crew  mem- 
ber got  an  average  of  $5,000;  the  re- 
mainder went  to  pay  their  medical 
expenses  and  the  damage  done  to  the 


After  Hours 


\* 


THAT     LIVED-IN     LOOK 

Recently  I  received  a  communica- 
tion from  James  Gallagher  of  House 
and  Home.  He  was  in  a  state  of 
dudgeon  over  current  reporting 
about  life  in  the  mass  suburbs.  He 
lives  in  Levittown,  New  York,  a 
community  tlmt  has  been  getting 
heavy  attention  on  account  of  its 
tenth  anniversary.  He  writes: 

I\  \[  convinced  that  most  stories 
about  our  megalosuburbia  on 
Long  Island  (population  17,500)  are 
written  from  the  Savarin  Bar  in 
Penn  Station  in  Manhattan.  The 
only  research  used  by  these  amateur 
sociologists  must  be  an  aerial  photo, 
taken  in  1951  or  so,  of  the  serried 
rooftops,  with  peas-in-a-pod  houses 
as  though  in  bas-relief  against  the 
barren  potato  fields.  One  look,  and 
these  experts  leap  to  their  theses: 
Levittown  is  bad.  Too  many  houses, 
all  alike;  too  many  families  the  same 
age;  a  single  stratum  of  income  and 
interests. 

The  first  thing  I  would  like  to 
have  updated  is  that  aerial  view. 
Bill  Levitt  used  only  four  street  ele- 
vations and  one  floor  plan  in  his 
14,000  Rancher  models  (a  builder 
term  for  any  house  that  is  wider 
than  it  is  deep),  and  the  view  from 
above  was  depressingly  monotonous. 
Today,  the  urge  to  non-conformity 
has  created  many  streets  where  no 
two  houses  are  alike  on  the  outside, 
and  even  floor  plans  have  only  a 
familial  relation  to  one  another.  In 
some,    the    brick    fireplace    wall    is 


about  the  only  structural  element 
that  has  defied  our  inventive  re- 
modelers,  the  only  wall  we  haven't 
moved  around  as  nonchalantly  as 
our  urban  cousins  move  furniture. 
We  have  built  up,  back,  front,  side- 
ways, even  down.  This  last  baffled 
us  until  a  local  architect  came  up 
with  a  split-level  disguise  for  the 
house  that  adds  a  basement,  and  has 
acquired  the  unlikely  name  of  Split- 
LeveT. 

I  guess  I  am  a  Levittown  aficio- 
nado, and  I  admit  that  the  place  is 
as  friendly  as  ever,  but  our  "one  big 
family"  phase  is  pretty  well  over. 
The  kaffee-klatsch,  that  oldest,  estab- 
lished, floating  gossip  club  that  used 
to  occupy  the  expectant  (who 
wasn't?)  wives,  has  largely  disap- 
peared. 

What  ended  it?  Some  of  us  think 
that  the  universal  suburban  gregari- 
ousness  was  self-defeating,  that  in 
these  in-gatherings  lay  the  seeds  of 
hurt  feelings  and  personality  clashes 
that  slowly  changed  the  tell-all  im- 
pulse into  the  polite,  but  reserved, 
reticence  that  is  the  mark  of  older 
communities.  Others  feel  that  in  the 
young  wives'  common  inexperience 
and  fear  of  a  new  life  (usually  bio- 
logical as  well  as  sociological),  far 
from  their  families,  friends,  and 
familiar  neighborhoods,  they  gath- 
ered in  each  other's  kitchens  for 
mutual  reassurance  and  pooled  ad- 
vice. 

They  are  a  lot  more  confident 
now.  Today,  they  are  their  own  ex- 
perts; Dr.  Spock  rarely  comes  out  of 
wherever  he  was  put  a  couple  of 
kids  ago.    In  fact,  so  little  interest 


can  be  aroused  in  these 
by  obstetrical  play-by-play 
would   probably   welcome 
bride   who  would   listen 
to  "how  it  was  with  my  fi 

LIKE  our  wives,  we  me 
rived  at  a  less  intima 
vivendi.  "Nobody  had  n 
an  accurate  description  c 
home-owners  back  in  1948 
first  Ranchers  went  on  sal 
an  electric  saw  or  lawn 
most  demanded  that  you 
it  as  community  propert 
odd  job  by  odd  job,  most 
have  built  up  a  pretty  cq 
ventory  of  tools,  the  pov 
is  as  ubiquitous  as  the  tr 
the  borrowing  (which  e 
constant  visits  back  and 
confined  to  the  more  ex 
such  as  extension  laddei 
hole  diggers. 

Prosperity,  too,  has  h 
fluence.  We  hire  things 
even  as  Scarsdale  or  Gro: 
The  days  are  gone  when  I 
get  a  concrete  driveway  | 
only  the  rental  of  a  ecu 
and  a  couple  of  cases  of  bl 
boys  to  drink.  You  can  s 
vice  on  any  project  (if  y 
it),  but  if  you  are  not  the 
self  type,  you  would  be  su  I 
in  a  contractor. 

Written  into  every  oJ 
deeds  is  a  prohibition  agal 
of  any  kind,  yet  few  hoi 
are  fenceless.  In  this  para 
end  of  Bill  Levitt's  drearrl 
big-garden  community.  II 
died  because,  living  in  thn 


81 


AFTER     HOURS 


: 


e  forgot  that  good  fences  make 
neighbors.  He  may  have  ex- 
1  fellowship  and  harmony  to 
across  the  lot  lines.  What 
1  was  children  and  dogs.  Some 
nts  claim  that  the  day  the  first 
went  up  was  the  beginning  of 
;nd  for  uncritical,  day-and- 
long  fraternizing. 

;     common    complaint    that    I 
[   like    to   set    straight    is    that 
are   no   old    people    or    teen- 
nothing    but    young    parents 
>abies.    No  one  could  say  that 
production     of     infants      has 
)ed  much  from  the  days  when 
ryly   called    the   place   "Fertile 
"  and  "The  Rabbit  Warren," 
those    toddlers    are    teen-agers 
and   the  most  pressing  school 
em    is    rapidly    becoming    the 
school,    not   the   kindergarten, 
ist   a   few   years,   we   will   have 
baby-sitters  than  babies. 
ilcl  our  oldsters   are   increasing, 
All  the  things  (except  the  easy 
ib  .)   that   made   the  Levitt  house 
ia|  tractive  to  new  wives  and  hus- 
(one-floor     living,     compact 
o  ens,  easy  maintenance,  not-too- 
; rounds)   appeal   even   more   to 
people  and  a  great  number  of 
:s  have  been  to  families  in  their 
;    and    beyond.     Of    the    eight 
ies  immediately  adjacent  to  me, 
are  older  couples  with  grown, 
oi  i,  children  (and  I'm  no  kid,  my- 
In   the  local   Catholic  church 
ther  Sunday,  there  were  a  dozen 
uncements   of   marriage   banns, 
a  sentence  about  baptisms, 
[mittedly,  some  of  our  families 
have  a  "this  is  just  the  first  stop 
s"  feeling,  and  there  is  a  steady 
)ver  of  houses.    But  many  roots 
ap  roots.  I  have  seen  many  men 
:iously  weigh  the  advantages  of 
ng  into  a  larger  house  outside 
[jjuse  his  family,   or  his   income, 
grown.   Then  he  would  decide 
a  couple   of   thousand   dollars 
id  give  him  two  more  bedrooms 
an  extra   bath   upstairs   in   his 
ttown    house,     and     maybe    he 
:l  push  the  living-room  wall  out 
te  rear  or  add  a  dining-room, 
besides,  "it  isn't  fair  to  uproot 
kids  just   when   they   are  doing 
/ell   in  school,"   and   "A   longer 
mute     would     be     too     much." 
se  people  are  here  for  keeps, 
he  reason  most  Levittowners  do 


not  feel  smothered  by  anonymity  is 
something  the  viewers  with  alarm 
forgot:  in  every  community,  large 
and  small,  people  really  live  within 
a  narrow  circle.  No  man,  said  John 
Donne,  is  an  island,  but  most  of  us 
are  little  more  than  peninsulas,  with 
only  a  very  limited  connection  to 
the  mainland.  I  hope  that  any 
future  stories  on  life  in  the  suburbs 
will  reflect  this  state  of  things,  as 
they  are,  instead  of  as  they  were  sup- 
posed to  be.  —James  Gallagher 

LIVELY 

(  FOR   ONCE  )    ART 

TH  E  best  thing  that  ever  hap- 
pened to  television  happened 
on  CBS  between  five  and  six  in  the 
afternoon  on  Sunday,  December  8. 
At  least  that  was  where  and  when 
it  happened  first;  the  program  may 
have  been  run  at  a  different  hour 
and  date  in  your  part  of  the  country, 
and— if  there  is  any  justice— it  will 
be  repeated,  the  more  often  the  bet- 
ter. It  was  an  installment  in  "The 
Seven  Lively  Arts"  series  called  "The 
Sound  of  Jazz,"  and  as  far  as  I'm 
concerned  you  can  throw  away  all 
previous  standards  of  comparison. 
This  is  where  live  television  began 
to  amount  to  something. 

It  was  opened  and  closed,  and 
from  time  to  time  interrupted,  by 
John  Crosby  as  "host,"  but  mostly  it 
was  musicians  playing  jazz— in  a 
bare  studio,  dressed  in  whatever  they 
liked  (hats,,  sweat  shirts,  it  didn't 
matter),  smoking,  talking  to  one  an- 
other, or  just  walking  around.  Each 
group  was  introduced  and  then 
away  it  went,  with  time  enough  (in 
nearly  all  cases)  to  get  the  music 
going,  while  the  camera  roamed  over 
the  faces  of  participants  and  specta- 
tors. 

There  were  no  phony  or  elabo- 
rate explanations.  As  the  executive 
producer,  Jack  Houseman,  remarked 
to  the  music  critic,  Virgil  Thomson, 
during  the  dress  rehearsal:  "This  is 
the  first  program  about  jazz  that 
doesn't  say  it  started  in  New  Orleans 
and  then  went  up  the  river." 

Technically  "The  Sound  of  Jazz" 
gave  the  appearance  of  being  very 
(as  they  say  on  the  Avenue)  "primi- 
tive." You  knew  that  you  were  in 
a  studio  and  that  these  people  were 
being  televised.  If  it  sounded  better 
to  have  a  microphone  right  in  front 


FOR  MORE  VACATION  FUN 

S  GIMLET 

29  YRS.  TRAVEL-WISE  TRAVELERS  GUIDE 

Where  and  How  to  Go.     What  to  See.     The  Costs. 

CANADA  thru  FLORIDA,  and  Enroute.  Nassau, 
Cuba,  West  Indies.  Includes  N.Y.C.  228  PAGES 
illus.  Price  $1.00  postpaid.  Address  The  Gimlet, 
Dept.  19-H,  745— 5th  Ave.,  N.Y.C.  22. 

Typical  Hotels  Recommended  &  Described 


Miami,  Florida 

MCALLISTER  HOTEL, 
FABULOUS  MIAMI'S 
LARGEST  AND  FINEST 
HOTEL.  Overlooking 
beautiful  Biscayne 
Park  and  Biscayne 
Bay.  Corner  Biscayne 
Boulevard  and  Flagler 
Street  ...  In  the 
very  heart  of  business 
and  shopping  area 
.  .  .  within  steps  of 
sightseeing,  race 
tracks,  deep-sea  fish- 
ing, theaters,  restau- 
rants and  all  trans- 
portation. A  wide 
variety  of  beautiful 
accommodations,  rang- 
ing from  modest 
priced  single  guest 
rooms  to  luxurious 
penthouse  suites  with 
private  rooftop  ter- 
races. Free  Television 
in  every  room.  Excel- 
lent Coffee  Shop.  Su- 
perb Convention  and 
Meeting  facilities. 
COMPLETELY  AIR-CON- 
DITIONED. You're 
closer  to  Everything 
in  Miami  at  the  MC- 
ALLISTER .  .  .  that's 
why  it  is  the  most 
economical  place  to 
stay.  A  Schine  Hotel. 
C.  DeWitt  CofFman, 
General    Manager. 


TAMPA,   FLA. 

HOTEL  FLORIDAN, 
Tampa's  NEWEST  and 
LARGEST         HOTEL. 

Located  in  the  heart 
of  downtown  Tampa. 
400  rooms,  each  with 
private  bath.  COM- 
PLETELY AIR  CONDI- 
TIONED, including 
lobby,  dining  rooms, 
cocktail  lounge,  and 
meeting  rooms.  You 
will  enjoy  every 
courtesy  and  conven- 
ience in  this  modern 
hotel  that  features 
gracious  Service  and 
Real  Hospitality,  offer- 
ing 19  FLOORS  of 
solid  comfort.  De- 
licious food  served  in 
the  Delightful  atmos- 
phere of  the  Crystal 
Dining  Room,  one  of 
Florida's  most  beauti- 
ful places  to  dine. 
Free  orange  juice 
every  morning.  Con- 
necting garage.  James 
B.    Pickard,    Manager. 


VIEWS  UNLIMITED!  Towering  high  above  ex- 
clusive Beekman  Hill,  our  rooms  command 
superb  views  of  the  East  River.  U.N.  and  the 
New  York  skyline.  Your  dollar  still  buys  a  lot 
of  good  living  here.  Singles  from  $7.00 


WRITE   FOR  BOOKLET  HA 


TOPOTHE 

TOWER 

COCKTAIL 
.lOUNGE- 
\^^J         4  9T 


Jieekman  c/o\ 


ower 


HOTEL 

ST.  AT  EAST  RIVER.  NEWVORK  17.  H.I. 


FREE!  US.  STAMPS 

PUIS  COMPUTE  V.  S.  CATALOG 


Sensational   Get-Acquainted  lj 
Offer — From  World's  Largest  r 
Stamp   Firm!    FREE. .. scarce  { 
genuine   postage  stamp,   as  L, 
illustrated,     picturing     first  s»l 
U.S.A.  (issued  in  1847)  PLUS  ■ 
big  collection  of  30  all-dif-    '* 
ferent    United    States  -  l?th  J 
century,  valuable  $1  stamp, 
etc.  PLUS  collection  beau- 
tiful   Commemoratives    in- 
cluding   American    Revolu- 
tion, Wild  West,   1693  Co- 
lumbian,   others.    EXTRA: 
Bargain    Catalog    all    U.S. 
Postage  issues;  other  offers; 
Stamp   Collector's   Guide. 

Send     10c    to    help    cover  mailing  costs.  ACT  NOW^ 
H.  E.  HARRIS  &  C0..41 22Transit  Bldg.Boston  17,  Mass. 


82 

of  a  man's  face,  there  the  micro- 
phone would  be:  and  if  one  camera- 
man got  in  another's  wav  he  didn't 
scurrj  ashamedly  oul  <>l  it.  But  this 
impromptu  effect,  of  course,  took  a 
deal  <>!  contriving.  I  lie  musicians 
couldn't  believe  at  first  that  hats 
were  really  okay,  and  Billie  Holi- 
day had  to  be  persuaded  to  appear 
in  slacks  and  pom  tail  instead  of  the 
gown  she  had  specially  planned  on. 
The  aii  ol  casualness  was  in  fact  the 
end-product  of  months  ol  work. 

Ill  I  S  milestone  was  primarily 
made  possible  by  Houseman,  and 
his  assistant.  Robert  Goldman,  and 
the  producer  lot  this  show.  Robert 
Herridge,  who  had  the  unbelievable 
courage  and  common  sense  to  hire 
good  taste  and  turn  it  loose.  They 
found  two  jazz  critics  with  some 
ideas,  Whitney  balliett  and  Nat 
Hentotl.  and  alter  the  usual  round 
of  conferences  and  memos,  gave 
them  complete  artistic  control.  Bal- 
liet  and  lletitoll.  from  the  start,  had 
the  kind  ol  program  in  mind  that 
the)  eventually  produced  one  that 
would  concentrate  on  music.  When 
I  asked  Balliett  at  what  point  they 
had  dec  ided  in  lavoi  ol  \  isital  real- 
ism and  informality,  he  thought  a 
moment  and  said,  "I  don't  think  it 
ever  occurred  to  us  to  do  it  any 
other  way." 

They  got  the  musicians  they 
wanted,  whether  currently  well 
known  or  not  and  whether  or  not 
"485"  (the  address  on  Madison  ol 
the  Columbia  front  office)  would 
have  made  the  same  choice.  They 
were  able  to  assemble  combinations 
of  musicians  whose  booking  arrange- 
ments usually  keep  them  apart,  and 
also  let  an  old-timer  like  Pec  Wee 
Russell  pl.i\  side  b\  side  with  a  mod- 
ernist like  [inmiv  Giuflre.  The 
name  of  one  performer  made  "185" 
nervous,  but  Balliett  and  Hentoff 
put  their  feel  down— and  they  won. 
Let  it  be  written  that  as  ol  1957 
there  was  still  some  decenc)  lelt.  and 
somebody  willing  to  fight  for  it. 

As  "The  Sound  of  jazz"  came  into 
the-  final  weeks  before  air-time,  it  be- 
wail to  make  other  people  uneasy, 
and  for  better  reasons.  Since  there 
was  so  little  of  the  normal  panic  on 
the  surface,  everybody  panicked  in- 
side. The  director,  Jack  Smight, 
found  that  he  was  twice  as  jumpy 
without     actors     around     to     worry 


AFTER      HOI RS 

about:  and  when  "IS.")''  found  out  in 
the  last  lew  days  that  there  really 
wasn't  am  script  to  speak  ol  it  began 
to  emit  angrj  noises:  "What  are  You 
doing  down  there?"  Balliett  and 
llentoll  coidd  onl\  answer  that 
everything  was  going  to  be  hue.  the 
musicians  would  turn  up.  and  there 
would  be  some  music.  They  hoped 
this  was  true. 


T  H  1.  Y  needn't  have  worried.  If 
you  were  lu<k\  enough  to  have  seen 
"The  Sound  ol  Jazz"  I  don't  have  to 
tell  you  how  great  it  was  and,  even 
il  you  weren't,  what  I'd  want  to  do 
anyway  is  sell  you  an  explanation  of 
why  it  was  great.  The  cornerstone 
ol  live  tc  le\  ision,  i  lass  will  please 
now  repeat,  is  the  human  lace— with 
its  spontaneit)  and  tension,  its  halo 
ol  contradictions,  its  bints  ol  life 
lived  and  life  to  come.  <)l  course  the 
I  V  camera  is  merciless;  it  draws  on 
the  person  behind  the  lace  lot  all 
the  icsotiKcs  that  it  can  find  there. 
It  is  not  one  eye  but  millions  of 
eyes;  it  has  high  expectations  and 
asks  that  the  person  before  it  be 
poised  in  the  balance,  somehow  chal- 
lenged oi  tested,  so  as  to  bring  forth 
the  most  meanings  from  the  ever- 
changing  interplay  ol  expressions  in 
the  lace. 

What  made  the  jazz  musicians 
extraordinary,  when  the  camera  put 
their  features  through  its  harsh  ex- 
amination, was  how  much  it  found 
there.  Children  and  animals  make 
the  best  movie  actois.  as  Douglas 
Fairbanks  said,  because  they  are  un- 
selfconscious  and  unable  to  fake.  No 
more  could  these  musicians  lie  any- 
thing but  themselves,  lor  they  are 
committed  to  independence  and  to  a 


headlong   attack   on    the   cosmos 
showed;   here    and  no  kidding-i 
individuals     ol     stature     and 
fundity,   ol    flesh    and    substance] 
warmth    and    bite.      The   music  I 
good,     yes,     Inn     what     lilted 
Sound    ol    fuzz"    to   a    level    liith 
unattained  was  the  si»ht  ol  it  hi 
made.    As  a  lad\   in  White    Plains 
clown  and  wrote    (   lis  as  soon  as 
show    was    ovei .    one    so   seldom 
the  e  hanee  "to  see  real  people  el< 
something     that     really    matters 
them." 

Neithei     balliett    nor    Hentoff 
pected  the  \  isual  effei  t  to  be  as 
sational  as  ii   i\ as.     rhey  knew  tj 
|aek    Smight    "dug"    jazz,    but   o 
couldn't    have    antic  ipated    the  < 
and    inti  ic  ale    <  ameia    work    that 
abled   him   to  cut   bom  one  shoi 
another    as    skillfully    as    though 
were   a    movie  editor,   working  v 
developed  film  instead  of  a  live  sh. 
The      cameramen      simply     oul 
themselves  (for  the  record,  and 
ing  them  a  credit  line  they  she 
have  had  on  the  air,  they  were  ] 
Heller,   Harold  Classen,   foe  Sok 
Jae  k  Brown,  and  Mai  ty    I'm  k).   ] 
liett   and    Hen  toff's  long  and   tare 
planning   had    made    it    possible 
the   musicians   to  extemporize  ;    i 
the  cameramen   and   directoi    eo 
extemporize  too,  with  the  freed 
to    smudge    the    edges— leave    t 
head    half    in   the  wav— of  practi 
talent,   the  artistic    intelligence   t 
dares    to    risk    a    blunder   because 
knows  precisel)  what  it  is  doing.  | 
is  like'  that,  and  as  a   result   the  ii 
effects  of  "The  Sound  ol    Jazz"- 
the  eye  and  on  the  ear— were  mi; 
ulously  in  tune  with  each  other. 


NOW  there  is  talk  not  only  o 
repeat  but  of  a  series,  and  no  e 
could  better  desei  ve  it  than  this  n 
found  team.  But  one  wonders  if 
miracle  can  happen  twice.  Part 
the  reason  that  Balliett  and  Hen 
were'  let  alone  was  that  no  one 
high  authority  really  undersu 
what  the)  were  up  to.  Now 
secret  is  out  and  there  will  be  mi 
hazards.  As  I  sat  with  them  in  j: 
ducer  Robert  Herridge's  office,  go 
ovei  the  first  day's  mail,  the  ph< 
rang  and  Herridge  answered  it. 
listened,  laughed  explosively,  8 
hung  up.  "Laurence  Welk,"  he  Si 
"demands  equal   time." 

—Mr.  Har] 


the  new 


BOOKS 


PAUL   PICKREL 


Not  New  York 


HARRY  S.  ASH  M  ORE'S  Epitaph 
for  Dixie  (Norton,  $3.50)  has  consider- 
able topical  interest  because  the  author  is  editor 
of  the  Little  Rock  newspaper,  the  Arkansas 
Gazette,  but  it  is  one  of  the  many  virtues  of  the 
book  that  it  rises  above  and  looks  beyond  the 
events  of  the  moment  in  an  attempt  to  see  where 
the  South  as  a  whole  is  headed.  Ashmore's  gen- 
eral conclusion  is  indicated  clearly  enough  by  his 
title:  he  believes  that  the  form  of  Southern 
society  that  has  prevailed  in  the  eighty  years 
since  Reconstruction,  a  society  based  on  share- 
cropping,  one-party  politics,  and  segregation,  is 
done  for.  The  forces  that  favor  segregation  in 
his  opinion  do  not  really  expect  to  win;  their 
battle  cry  is  not  "on  to  victory"  but  only  "not 
in  this  generation";  behind  the  seemingly  solid 
facade  of  the  white  South  he  believes  that  there 
is  much  real  diversity  of  opinion  and  uneasiness 
about  the  status  quo. 

Although  Ashmore  never  puts  the  case  this 
way,  he  seems  to  see  the  defender  of  the  post- 
Reconstruction  style  of  Southern  life  as  facing 
not  one  but  two  opponents.  There  is  first  the 
external  enemy  that  can  be  called  by  such  names 
as  the  North  or  the  Supreme  Court  or  the 
NAACP;  this  enemy  can  be  argued  with  and 
about,  can  be  encountered  in  law  courts  and 
excoriated  in  legislature  halls,  and  might  even 
be  defeated.  But  there  is  another  enemy,  an 
internal,  unnamed  enemy,  a  kind  of  Southern 
fifth  column,  which  is  an  ineradicable  fact  of 
life  and  cannot  be  legislated  or  sued  or  fought 
out  of  existence— that  is,  the  revolution  in  the 
Southern  economy  that  makes  a  caste  system 
obsolete.  Sharecropping  and  one-party  politics 
are  on  their  way  out,  and  segregation  will  go- 
slowly— with  them. 

Ashmore  pays  little  attention  to  the  first 
"enemy";  most  of  his  book  is  devoted  to  changes 
in  the  South  itself  that  make  segregation  an 
unworkable  scheme.  He  tacitly  affirms  that 
segregation  is  a  Southern  problem,  not  on  the 
old  grounds  that  the  South  knows  what  is  best 
for  the  Negro  but  on  the  grounds  that  the  South 


is  going  through  a  change  of  such  a  fundamental 
sort— a  change  in  which  a  new  status  for  the 
Negro  is  only  one  part— that  her  Northern  critics 
will  just  have  to  be  patient  for  a  while  longer. 
One  of  Ashmore's  most  valuable  gifts  is  his 
ability  to  say  just  as  little  for  the  comfort 
of  his  Northern  reader  as  for  his  Southern 
neighbor. 

He  does  not  bother  to  disguise  his  contempt 
for  those  Southern  leaders,  like  the  present  Gov- 
ernor of  Arkansas,  who  capitalize  on  the  race 
issue,  though  he  argues  convincingly  that  there 
has  often  been  (more  in  the  past  than  at  present) 
an  element  of  vaudeville  in  Southern  racial 
demagoguery  that  was  recognized  and  appre- 
ciated by  both  the  performer  and  his  audience. 
He  looks  upon  contemporary  racist  leaders  as 
simply  tragically  irrelevant  to  the  work  in  hand, 
something  like  those  leaders  of  newly  inde- 
pendent nations  who  still  campaign  on  a  plat- 
form of  anti-colonialism. 

YET,  little  as  he  expects  of  the  leaders  of  the 
segregation  forces  and  hopeless  as  he  thinks  their 
cause  is,  Ashmore  does  not  believe  that  the 
changes  now  taking  place  in  the  South  will 
result  in  pure  gain.  The  New  South,  as  he  sees 
it,  will  be  something  like  Texas,  by  which  he 
apparently  means  that  it  will  retain  a  certain 
amount  of  self-conscious  and  superficial  local 
color  while  actually  accepting  the  standards  of 
the  rest  of  the  country  with  a  vengeance— talking 
states'  rights,  for  instance,  but  greedy  for  federal 
help  and  tax  privileges.  In  his  recent  book,  The 
Reluctant  Empire,  George  Fuermann  observes 
that  the  rest  of  the  United  States  looks  upon 
Texas  in  much  the  same  way  as  the  rest  of  the 
world  looks  upon  the  United  States— as  a  force 
that  is  brash  and  crude  but  rich  and  vigorous, 
without  culture  but  without  the  restrictions  that 
go  with  the  culture,  half  threat  and  half  promise. 
This  seems  to  be  fairly  close  to  what  Ashmore 
has  in  mind  when  he  speaks  of  Texas  as  the 
model  (or  the  fate)  of  the  New  South. 

Ashmore  is  able  to  specify  some  of  the  quali- 
ties that  he  thinks  are  being  lost  in  the  South 


84 


Till      NEW     HOOKS 


today.  He  thinks  thai  as  legal  segregation  dimin- 
ishes, a  kind  of  spiritual  segregation  increases: 
there  is  less  and  less  human  contact  between 
the  races.  He  points  oul  that  he  grew  up  know- 
ing Negroes  in  a  wa\  thai  his  daughtei  does  not 
know  them;  one  ol  Im  older  relatives  once  re- 
plied to  a  genealogical  inquiry  with  the  observa- 
tion that  he  figured  the  famil)  was  kin  to  just 
aboul  everybody  in  the  county,  white  and  black, 
one  wa\  01  another;  that  sense  ol  kinship,  Ash- 
more  thinks,  is  now  being  lost.  And  lie  sees 
some  loss  in  the  breakup  ol  the  one-part)  South: 
the  Southern  Democrats,  parti)  because  they 
were  so  thoroughl)  entrenched  at  home,  were 
often  able  to  acl  more  lai  sightedl)  in  national 
and  international  |>oliti<s  than  their  more  shal 
low  rooted  Northern  colleagues.  Nor  dots  \sh 
more  entirely  forget  how  much  that  entrench- 
ment  (Ost. 

Behind  An  Epitaph  for  Dixie  there  is  not  only 
extensive  observation  bui  also  wide  reading  in 
the  leading  modern  waiters  on  the  South— V.  (). 
Key,  the  late  Howard  Odum,  (  .  Vann  Wood- 
ward, and  so  on.  The  two  writers  whose  influ- 
ence is  most  marked  are  William  Faulknei  and 
the  late  \V.  |.  Cash,  author  ol  The  Mind  of  the 
South  (now  sixteen  years  old  hut  happil)  avail- 
able as  an  Vnchoi  Book  ai  ')~>c  and  still  emi- 
nently worth  reading).  An  Epitaph  foi  Dixie  is 
essentiall)  an  epilogue  to  Cash's  woik.  bringing 
it  ii|)  to  date,  and  il  is  enough  to  say  in  its  praise 
that  it  is  worthy  to  stand  in  that  relationship. 

In  general  Ashmore  is  a  little  distrustful  of 
the  contemporary  literary  image  of  the  South: 
he  quotes  an  amusing  accounl  l>\  another  South- 
ern journalist  (Harr)  (.olden)  of  how  Tennessee 
Williams'  Baby  Doll  woidd  have  to  be  rewritten 
to  bring  it  into  line  with  the  facts  of  Southern 
life:  the  protagonist  becomes  a  New  York  manu- 
facturer of  foundation  garments  who  moves  to 
the  South  in  search  of  cheap  labor,  Baby  Doll  is 
a  model  he  has  given  a  share  ol  the  business, 
and  the  antagonist  is  an  organizer  lor  the  Inter- 
national Ladies  Garmenl    Workers   Union. 

But  in  spite  ol  Ins  feeling  that  some  Southern 
literature  is  misleading.  Ashmore  often  relies  on 
Faulkner's  massive  myth  ol  the  South  as  a  frame 
lor  his  own  analysis,  as  in  his  eloquent  descrip- 
tion of  how  leadership  has  passed  from  the 
proud  Sartorises  (Faulkner's  old  established 
family)  to  the  poor  and  ignorant  hut  crafty 
Snopeses  (Faulkner's  poor  whites). 

"When  the  Charleston  News  <b  Conner  issues 
its  call  lor  all  good  men  to  come  to  (he  aid  of 
the  Old  South,  it  is  not  a  Hampton  who  steps 
forward,  but  one  of  the  Snopes  boys,  mentally 
calculating  the  possible  profit  from  the  dues  of 
a  Citizens  Council,"  Ashmore  writes,  and  he 
quotes  a  "c\ni<al  old  planter"  to  the  effect  that 
Dixie  will  have  reached  the  end  of  the  road 
when  a  rich  Negro   leaves  a   widow   "with  suffi- 


cient holdings  io  justify  one  ol  the  Snopes  boys' 
marrying  her  foi  her  money."  Yei    Vshmore  does 

not  despair  ol  the  Snopeses.  Me  believes  that 
the)  aie  shaking  oil  then  poverty,  educating 
their  children,  and  in  the  Inline  will  demand 
both    mole    ol    the    nation's    bount)     and    hcttci 

leadership. 

No     i:  o  I    ND  ABIES 

A  I  11  oil  o  \l  Ashmore  mis  the  South 
ol  sharecropping,  one-part)  politics,  and 
segregation  as  the  last  stronghold  <>l  American 
regionalism,  ol  significant  social  difference;  with 
iis  passing  American  soc  iet\  will  he  thoroughly 
homogenized  and  without  local  flavor.  Io  this 
extent  his  epitaph  is  a  lament.  In  a  passage  near 
the  end  ol  the  hook  he  tells  how  he  has  at  last 
come  io  feel  al  peace  with  New  York,  because 
"New  York  no  longer  has  any  boundaries  ...  it 
is  everywhere  that  telephones  and  radio  and  tele- 
vision can  reach  .  .  .  there  is  nothing  lett  now  to 
confine  it.  no  physical  boundaries  and  no  perma- 
nent, distinctive  regional  attitudes." 

Southern  writers  and  intellectuals  often  exag- 
gerate the  homdgeneity  ol  Northern  society  he- 
cause  they  know  only  the  huge  cities  of  the 
North;  they  identify  the  whole  North  with  New 
York  though  they  would  be  reluctant  to  grant 
that  Birmingham  oi  Atlanta  is  the  "real"  South. 
Yet  Ashmore-  is  undoubtedly  right  in  finding 
geographical  differences  increasingly  unimpor- 
tant in  American  life.  In  contemporary  Amer- 
ican fiction,  for  instance,  il  no  longer  makes' 
very  much  difference  where  a  writer  comes  from 
unless  he  is  a  Southerner  or  very  much  difference 
in  what  pail  of  the  country  his  novel  is  set 
unless  ii  is  the  South;  and  the  novelist's  South,  as 
\slniioie  points  oul,  is  in  danger  ol  becoming 
less  a  place  than  a  literary  convention. 

Some  novelists  continue  to  have  a  loose 
regional  affiliation— Marquand  belongs  to  New 
England  and  O'Hara  to  Pennsylvania,  but 
readers  of  James  Could  Cozzens'  sensationally 
successful  liy  Love  Possessed  have  located  the 
(own  where  the  action  takes  place  all  the  way 
from  New  Hampshire  to  Maryland,  and  there 
seems  to  be  no  way  of  pinning  it  down  very 
exactly.  To  be  sure  there  is  still  such  a  thing 
as  a  "Western"  story,  but  a  Western  is  by  this 
time  usually  either  a  fairy  tale  or  an  historical 
novel. 

Yet  there  remains,  both  in  fact  and  in  fiction, 
a  very  large  part  of  America  that  is  not  New 
Yoik.  Ii  is  ne)t  se>  much  a  matter  of  geography 
as  ol  si/e;  one  thing  thai  must  strike  any  reader 
who  follows  American  novels  is  the  persistence 
of  the  small  town  in  fiction,  and  not  just  the 
ersatz  small  town  where  the  tarnished  New  York 
advertising  man  goes  to  cleanse-  his  spirit  by 
editing    a    crusading    newspaper   or    the    expen- 


^ 


KJakedto 

NilNE  ENEMIES 


CHARLES  W. 
FERGUSON 

NAKED  TO 
MINE   ENEMIES 


A  magnificent  chronicle  of  the  rise  and  fall  of 
the  churchman  who  became  one  of  the  most 
powerful  men  in  English  history.  Great  figures 
of  a  passionate  era  are  drawn  in  bold  strokes 
—  tight-fisted  Henry  VII,  who  brought  England 
out  of  chaos;  Henry  VIII,  ruthless  and  mag- 
nificent; Catherine  of  Aragon,  Anne  Boleyn, 
Pope  Clement  VII;  Francis  I  —  and,  towering 


THE  LIFE  OF  CARDINAL  WOLSEY        above  all,  the  Cardinal. 


$6.00 


■  0>*> 


\V-ft<¥11* 


OLIVER  WARNER 

VICTORY 
THE  LIFE  OF  LORD  NELSON 


An  exciting  new  biography  of  an  ever-fascinat- 
ing man  —  heroic,  kindly  and  a  genius  at  sea, 
vain  and  vulnerable  ashore  —  the  Little  Ad- 
miral whose  dangerous,  all-or-nothing  love 
affair  with  Lady  Hamilton  drove  him  back  to 
the  sea  and  the  supreme  victory  of  his  career, 
Trafalgar.  Introduction  by  Nicholas  Monsar^ 
rat.  Illustrated. 
An  Atlantic  Monthly  Press  Book.  $6.50 


EDWARD  WEEKS 
and  EMILY  FLINT 

JUBILEE 

ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS 
OF  THE  ATLANTIC 


"As  interesting,  stimulating  and  delightful  a 
literary  feast  as  the  intelligent  reader  has  been 
invited  to  sit  down  to  in  a  long  time,"  says  the 
N.  Y.  Times  of  this  superb  collection  of  prose, 
poetry  and  fiction  by  128  great  writers  of  the 
past  one  hundred  years,  selected  from  1,200 
issues  of  The  Atlantic.  "A  big,  rich  book." 
—The  New  Yorker. 
An  Atlantic  Monthly  Press  Book.  $7.50 


CAITLIN  THOMAS 

LEFTOVER   LIFE 
TO  KILL 


"Leftover  Life  to  Kill  will  shock  and  infuri- 
ate some  readers,  make  passionate  partisans  of 
others.  Though  she  stands  as  an  insolent,  self- 
confessed  sinner  at  the  bar  of  society's  judg- 
ment, Caitlin  Thomas  writes  like  a  saint  at  the 
stake  .  .  .  Her  book  is  a  searingly  candid  chron- 
icle of  what  she  permitted  herself  (very  nearly 
everything)  in  the  first  year  following  Dylan 
Thomas'  death  in  Manhattan  in  1953."— Time. 
An  Atlantic  Monthly  Press  Book.  $4.50 


FARLEY  MOW  AT 

THE   DOG   WHO 
WOULDN'T  BE 


At  all  bookstores 


The  best  seller  that  is  filled  with  fun— the  true 
story  of  Mutt  who  "concluded  that  there  was 
no  future  in  being  a  dog."  The  N.  Y.  Times 
says,  "This  is  one  book  that  it  would  really 
be  a  shame  to  miss."  "A  warm,  happy,  en- 
chanting book  . . .  the  kind  that  makes  family 
reading  aloud  one  of  the  happiest  of  diver- 
sions."— Chicago  Tribune.  Illustrated. 
An  Atlantic  Monthly  Press  Book.  $3.95 


LITTLE,  BROWN  &  COMPANY  •  boston 


j 


8(i 


RESPONSIBILITY 

IN  MASS 
COMMUNICATION 

By  WILBUR   SCHRAMM 

Depf.  of  Communication 

and  Journalism,  Stanford 

University 

Today,  as  mounting  public 
concern  indicates,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  reaffirm  the  social  re- 
sponsibilities and  ethical 
standards  of  mass  media. 
What  arc  the  desirable  limits 
of  government  authority? 
How  much  are  communicators 
themselves  responsible?  And 
how  much  is  the  audience  re- 
sponsible? To  answer  these 
and  related  questions,  the  au- 
thor draws  upon  many  years 
of  experience  in  the  field 
to  stimulate  the  layman's 
thought  and  establish  guide- 
posts  for  those  directly  con- 
cerned —  in  government,  in 
publishing  and  advertising, 
and  in  radio,  television,  and 
the  movie  industry. 
A  t  your  bookston  •  $4.50 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS  •  N.  Y.   16 


GOING  INTO 
POLITICS 

A  Guide  for  Citizens 

By  ROBERT  E.  MERRIAM 

and  RACHEL  M.  GOETZ 

A  beginner's  guide  to  politi- 
cal action  in  which  the  au- 
thors —  Robert  Merriman  a 
professional  and  Rachel  Goetz 
an  amateur  politician  —  show 
the  citizen  what  politics  is 
like  on  the  inside;  how  to 
take  part;  how  to  penetrate 
and  move  around  inside  a  po- 
litical party;  how  candidates 
are  selected,  nominated,  and 
elected  (or  defeated)  ;  how 
campaigns  are  managed;  how 
corrupt  machines  are  fought; 
and  many  more  facets  of  the 
worthwhile  pleasures  (and 
pains)  of  political  action. 
Realistic,  step-by-step  infor- 
mation on  participation  in 
political  affairs  for  every 
civic-minded  man  and  woman. 

At  your  bookstore  •  $2.50 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS  •  N.  Y.   16 


THE     NEW     BOOK  S 

sive  Connecticut  mi1>uiI>  play-acting  rravei    charae  tci  i/es    .1-.    "|nniii| 

at  being  .1  small  town  (such  .1  <<>m-  and   nonsensical,"   1101    without 

munity    bears  about    the  same   rela  son    on    th<    evidence    he    provi 

ikiii   to  .1  real  small   town  .is    Marie  I  In    si\U    ol   the  book   is  corny 

Antoinette's  milking  hens  to  dairy-  inoffensive.     1  \     Book-of-thc-M< 

hut  the  t  hing  itself.  (  Hub  sele<  tion.) 


R()  li  I.  R  I  rR AVER'S  Anat- 
omy  of  a  Murdei  (St.  Vfartin's  Press, 

$  1.50)    is   .1    1  ase    in    point.     I  he    novel 

is  set  in  iIk  Uppei  Peninsula  ol 
\li<  higan,  .1  region  that  probably 
>i  1  ikes  most  1  eadei  s  as  Fail  lv  out  ol 
the  way.  Yet  ex<  ept  Eoi  .1  Eew  topo- 
graphical details  and  one  point  ol 
law.  ii  might  have  been  set  in  Maine 
01  Kansas  01  ( )regon;  there  is  almost 

nothing  in  ma is  01    language  01 

style  ol  life  that  localizes  the  story. 
But  the  one  pla<  1  it  <  ould  not  In-  set 
is  \<u  \oik.  01  ,m\  othei  large 
i  it\.  The  atmosphere,  the  attitudes, 
ami  even  the  si\  le  ol  wi  iting  an-  in- 

\  mi  ibly  small  tow  n,  though  not  tin 
small   low  n  ol   an\    pal  li(  ulai    region. 

Traver's  stor)  is  told  l>\  the  attor- 

ne\    loi    the  defense,  who  until   his 

1 1  <  till    ili  leal    l>\    a    youngei    man    has 

hinisell  been  disti  ic  1  attoi  ney.  The 
trial  is  .111  opportunity  Eoi  him  to 
defeat  in  the  courtroom  the  man 
who  lias  recently  defeated  him  at  the 

polls,  as  well  as  a  (  han<  e  to  establish 
hinisell    as  .1   (  1  1min.1l    law  \ei    and   to 

la)  the  Eoundation  Eoi  a  Eurthei 
political  career.  Traver  docs  not  go 
\<i\    deep   into   human    motivation, 

he    uses   a    ( ei  lain    nuinhei    ol    1  alhei 

stale  literal  \  de\  ie  es,  and  the  mur- 
dei itseli  is  not  a  particularly  in- 
teresting (lime,  chief!)  because 
neithei  murderei  noi  murderee  is  a 
very  interesting  man.  But  the  book 
is  less  the  Story  ol  a  murder,  in  spite 
of  its  til  I.',  than  the  stoi  5  ol  a  trial 
lor  murder,  and  the  a<  i  ount  ol  the 
trial  is  irresistible,  as  such  accounts 
usually   ale. 

I  he   aulhoi    w  1  iles    nuclei    a    pseu- 

donym  (he  is  a  justice  ol  the  Su- 
preme Conn  of  Michigan),  and  lot 
main  readers  the  chicl  attraction  of 
Inatomy  <>\  a  Murder  will  he  the  in- 
sight it  provides  in  the  way  lawyers 
go  about  theii  work,  li  is  a  hit  ( hill- 
ing lo  see  the  extent  lo  which  the 
lawyers  regard  the  trial  as  their 
show;  the  man  being  tried  seems 
hardly  more  than  in<  idental,  some- 
thing like  a  c  OW  thai  wanders  into  a 
steak-fry.  The  out<  ome  depends  on 
the  manipulation  ol  the  concept  of 
legal     insanity,     a     concept     which 


111!      small   low  11   ihat   pio\  ides  j 
setting      loi      William      I  luniphl 
Home  from  the  Hill  (Knopf,  $81 
is   situated    in    I  asl     I  exas,   .iw.1 
place   is  caielulh    localized 

the  use  ol  dialec  I  and  odiel  del, 
though  perhaps  the  most  import 
lac  t  about  the  setting  is  that  il 
in  a  literary  though  not  in  a 
graphical  sense,  in  the  Faul 
count]  \ . 

I  he  1  e  aie  three  main  c  haiac  I 
the  lathei .  a  hero  ol  1 1 1  c -  lust  w 
war,  a  Eamous  hunter,  and 
equally  Eamous  philanderer; 
mother,  a  woman  who  has  b 
deeply  shocked  by  her  husha 
affairs  and  determined  to  real  i 
only  son  in  sexual  purity;  and 
son,  who  worships  his  lather  as  h 
and  hunter  without  knowing  a 
thin»  about  his  philandering.  '1 
central  situation  develops  when 
son  learns  about  his  latin  is  sex 
c  areei  and  sees  in  il  an  all-loo-cl 
portent  ol    his  own   nature. 

Humphrey  is  so  gifted  a  w'ri 
as  he  has  already  demonstrated  i 
number  of  line  short  stories,  tha 
is  ungenerous  to  suggest  thai  Ho 
from  the  Hill,  Ins  Insi  novel,  is 
than  a  complete  success.  Yet, 
as  the  writing  is,  the  structure  o 

hook    is    too    sc  hemati(  .      I  he    lal 
philanders  on  a  scale  that  most   m 
die-aged    men    would    find    weari 
and  the  son  is  innocent  lo  an  exti 
thai   seems  c  Munich    unlikclv    in  I 
c  ire  unisiaiic  es.         I  he       n.u  rative 
n  iimiied  down   until    il    is  stai  k   a 
spare,  like  a  legend  or  a  ballad,  1 
il  becomes  a  little  mechanical  in 
neat  disclosure  ol   one  tei  rible  <  i 
sequence    alter    another,    until     I 
reader   has   trouble    in    avoiding   ti 
feeling  that  late  is  being  generoul 
assisted  by  the  author  in  propellil 
the    characters    toward    then     dal 
destinies. 

II  is  a  pity  thai  1  liiinphie\  has  \i 
given     1 1  err    reign    to    his    sense 
humor,   which   plays  ovei    one  sec 
(the   baptism    of   a    child)    with    fi 
macabre  lesulis.    More  humoi  mjg 
have  detracted  from  the  tragic  ell 
hut  it  would  have  made  the  hook 


87 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


,ir 


deal  more  convincing  as  an 
e  of  life.  In  spite  of  these  reser- 
ns,  Home  from  the  Hill  is  a 
ully  made  piece  of  work  by  a 
:r  of  undeniable  talent,  and  any- 
who  reads  it  will  look  forward 
iumphrey's  next  book. 

CATCHALL 

MES  JONES'S  mammoth 
:cond  novel,  Some  Came  Run- 
(Scribner,  $7.50),  also  takes 
•  in  a  small  town,  this  time  in 
ral  Illinois.  The  place  has  con- 
able  individual  character;  it  is 
of  those  Illinois  communities 
e  Northern  and  Southern 
ns  in  the  population  meet  (the 
hern  strain  augmented  since  the 
id  \vorld  war  by  the  immigra- 
of  some  of  Faulkner's  Snopeses), 
it  has  a  touch  of  glamor  left  be- 
by  some  high-living,  free-spend- 
Pennsylvania  oil  millionaires 
lived  there  during  a  brief  oil 
n  earlier  in  the  century.  Unfor- 
tely  most  of  what  takes  place  in 
:s's  town  is  less  interesting  than 
town  itself. 

he  1,266  pages  of  Some  Came 
ning  are  less  a  novel  than  a  col- 
on of  parts  of  novels,  ideas  for 
;ls,  comments  on  the  difficulty  of 
ing  novels,  and  disquisitions  on 
ever  happened  to  come  into 
is's  head.  There  are  discussions 
uck  (which  is  said  to  be  located 
a  gland  in  the  brain"),  of  how  to 
\i  potatoes,  of  the  place  of  rein- 
atl  lation  in  Christian  theology 
rist  is  said  to  have  taught  rein- 
lation  but  St.  Paul  cut  it  out  of 
Gospels),  of  the  relation  between 
riter's  sex  life  and  his  work,  of 
state  of  the  highways  between 
hville  and  Chattanooga,  of  the 
:e  of  physical  affection  in  the 
ing  of  children,  and  of  endless 
?r  subjects  of  varying  degrees  of 
vance.  One  would  be  tempted 
ay  that  everything  is  in  the  book 
;pt  the  kitchen  sink  except  for 
fact  that  at  least  three  kitchen 
:s  come  in  for  mention, 
'he  narrative  excuse  for  this 
>rgasbord  is  rather  simple:  in 
7,  at  the  end  of  his  military  ser- 
:,  one  Dave  Hirsch  returns  to  the 
ill  Illinois  town  which  he  had 
in  haste  nineteen  years  before 
:n  he  "got  a  farm  girl  in  trou- 
"  He  had  been  forced  to  leave  by 


\t 


■I 


his  older  brother  Frank,  who  was 
acting  as  head  of  the  family  and  was 
anxious  to  make  it  more  respectable. 
Dave  comes  back  with  the  idea  of 
staying  only  long  enough  to  em- 
barrass Frank,  who  is  now  pros- 
perous and  about  to  become  more 
so.  But  he  decides  to  settle  down 
and  even  goes  into  a  business  part- 
nership with  Frank  when  he  dis- 
covers that  he  is  falling  in  love  with 
Gwen  French,  a  teacher  in  the  local 
college  and  the  most  wildly  improb- 
able heroine  of  the  season. 

Gwen  refuses  to  marry  Dave  be- 
cause she  is  a  virgin  (this  is  all  per- 
fectly absurd),  but  she  does  agree  to 
become  his  mentor  in  his  attempt  to 
resume  the  career  as  a  writer  that 
he  had  started  before  the  war.  From 
here  on  the  book  is  mostly  about 
Art  and  Artist.  Various  characters 
wander  in  and  out,  there  are  sex 
sprees  and  drinking  bouts  and  a 
fight,  but  chiefly  there  is  just  talk. 

Essentially  Jones  is  concerned 
with  the  same  problem  in  Some 
Came  Running  that  occupied  him 
in  From  Here  to  Eternity:  the  prob- 
lem of  the  man  of  violence  in  a 
society  that  both  needs  his  violence 
and  penalizes  him  for  it.  Private 
Pruitt  in  From  Here  to  Eternity 
lives  an  unresolved  paradox:  his  vio- 
lence constantly  gets  him  in  trouble 
with  his  society  (the  Army),  yet  it  is 
the  very  quality  that  makes  him  a 
good  soldier.  So  Jones  seems  to  see 
the  artist:  society  needs  his  art,  but 
in  order  to  produce  his  art  he  must 
live  a  life  in  conflict  with  society. 

Yet  From  Here  to  Eternity  was  a 
readable  book  and  Some  Came  Run- 
ning is  not.  One  difference  between 
them  is  that  the  first  novel  was 
written  from  the  author's  feelings, 
which  were  chaotic  but  powerful, 
and  the  new  book  is  written  from 
the  author's  intellect,  which  is 
chaotic  but  not  powerful.  Further- 
more, the  Army  provides  a  frame- 
work in  which  the  conflict  between 
the  violent  man  and  the  powers- 
that-be  can  be  dramatized,  and  a 
small  town,  at  least  Jones's  small 
town,  does  not. 

But  the  biggest  difference  between 
them  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  first 
book  kept  its  focus  on  events  and 
consequently  had  some  shape  and 
discipline,  while  the  new  book  is 
flabby,  and  self-indulgent.  The  writ- 
ing is  crude  and  pretentious,  full  of 


"a  must" 


"invaluable" 


"entertaining" 


ARTHUR 
KNIGHT'S 

The 
Liveliest 

Art 


A  Panoramic  History 
of  the  Movies 

". . .  an  analytical,  well-written 
and  intelligently  planned  up- 
dating of  the  history  of  the  film, 
done  with  compassion  for  the 
medium  and  a  grasp  of  its  in- 
tricacies ...  a  volume  that  not 
only  reads  well,  but  is  crammed 
with  the  kind  of  information 
that  is  indispensable  to  any 
student ...  of  the  motion  pic- 
ture... a  'must'  for  industrytes' 
bookshelves."  —Variety 

"Mr.  Knight's  book  is  enter- 
taining, but  you'll  go  to  it  for 
information  .  .  .  lively  and  in- 
spiring story . . ." 

—N.  Y.  Herald  Tribune 

". . .  the  most  complete,  compre- 
hensive, up-to-date  survey  of 
the  film  now  available  in  Eng- 
lish..." —  Richard  Griffith, 
Curator,  Museum  of  Modern 
Art  Film  Library 

"...  a  fascinating  story  . .  .  in- 
valuable ...  to  any  layman  . . . 
It  will  make  his  movie-going 
experience  richer  and  keener." 
—Rouben  Mamoulian 

Illustrated    $7.50 


60  Fifth  Ave.,  N.Y.  II,  N.Y. 


88 


i  ii  i     \  i  w     hooks 


.    .   painstaking  and  honest."     — — 

-ABBA  EBAN 

ISRAEL  and  the 

MIDDLE  EAST 

HARRY   B.    ELLIS 

Asst.   Overseas   News   Editor, 

The    Christian    Science    Monitor 

THE  BLOOD-sweat-and-sand  profile 
ol  Israel  goad  to  millions  of  restless 
\ral>s.  Top  reporter  Harrj  Ellis 
tills  from  persona]  experience  the 
price  of  coexistence  along  600  mill's 
of  bitterly  contested  border.  \  bril- 
liant account  of  events  in  Palestine 
from  Bible  <l;i>s  to  the  present,  essen- 
tial to  understanding  the  claims  of 
Israelis    and    Arabs.  s  ' 

Also  by  HARRY  B.  ELLIS: 

Heritage  of  the  Desert 

The   Arabs   and  the   Middle    East 

".  ..-a  reallj  excellenl  background  i<> 
tin-    probler f   tin-    Middle    East." 

—The    New   York   Times 

".    .     .    deserves    wiile    attention. 
—The   Saturday   Review  $5 

At   bookstores 
THE    RONALD    PRESS    COMPANY      •     N.    Y.    10 


pseudo-words  like  bourgeoisness,  offi- 
ciality, ;iihI  sanguinarily;  such  action 
;is  there  is  is  often  absurd  and  in- 
coherent.  At  bottom  the  trouble 
seems  i<>  be  that  Jones  has  taken 
himseli  in;  lie  has  <  ome  to  believe  in 
Ins  ow  ii  myth.  Being  a  writer  is  not 
ne. ii  l\  so  impoi  i. mi  .1  thing  .is  [01 
thinks  n  is.  Being  a  good  writer  ma.) 
be,  l)in  he  has  .1  long  way  to  go 
before  lie  is  .1  good  wi  iter. 

I  \     M\   Face  lot    the  Wot  Id  to  See 
Harper,  |3)    Ufred  1  [ayes  has  wi  it- 

teit    ;i    novel    in    \\' 1 1  i <  li    the    sell  ing    is 

also  I. ne;  Hollywood  is  both  where 
the  storj  takes  place  and  whai  hap- 
|l(  us  to  the  1  Ii.ii.k  lets.  I  here  are 
onl\  two  ol  an)  impoi  tan<  e  the 
in, in  who  tells  the  story,  .1  writet 
from  New  York  who  goes  out  to 
I  [ollywood  from  time  to  time  lor  a 
little  eas)  moiK  \  .mil  e.is\  sex,  and 
who  ihinks  ol  himseli  as  an  unin- 
volved  spectatoi  in  the  movie 
colony;  and  a  beautiful,  half- 
demented  gii  I  who  has  at  cepted  the 
whole  Hollywood  dream  as  a  pel 
sonal  promise.   The  man  engages  in 

what    he   means   to   he   a    c  asual   all.iii 

wiih   the  girl,   but    the   relationship 

gets  out    ol    hand,   and    in   the  end   he 

must  recognize  that  lie  too  is  in- 
volved, ih. 11  Hollywood  has  cor- 
1  upted  him  in  his  way  jusl  as  much 
as  11  has  corrupted  the  girl  in  hers. 

The  novel  is  \ei\  adroitl)  writ- 
ten, in  smooth,  seemingl)  effortless 
prose;  and  ii  attains  great  Eorce  in 
the  passages  where  the  girl  describes 
the  terrible  hallucinations  site  has 
suffered:  she  has  thought  thai  she 
was  being  listed  in  all  kinds  of  cruel 
and  anonymous  ways  to  see  il  she 
was  really  worthy  ol  stardom;  sin 
has  passed  through  periods  when 
she  thought  thai  everyone  she  met 
was  an  incognito  emissary  ol  "the 
studio"  come  10  put  her  through 
some  trial  before  she  enters  into  her 
glory. 

The  ending  ol  the  hook  is  a  little 
disappointing,  probably  because  the 
reader  learns  a  little  too  much  about 
the  girl  too  soon,  leaving  little  to  be 
revealed  in  the  end.  But  My  Face 
joy  the  World  to  See  is  a  skillful, 
disturbing  book. 

I    111      short    stories    ill    First    Love 

and     Other     Early     Sorrows     (Dial. 

,iii.  a  lust  collection  l>\   a  gifted 

young    write!     named    Harold    Brod- 


key,   fall   into   two  groups  or  (yc 

One    gTOUp    dials     with     a     In 
grows    up    in    St.    Louis   and   goeB 
1 1. 11  vard,  the  othei  with  .1  gii 
I  .1111 ,1,     w  ho     might     (oik  eivably  || 
the  wile  ol    the   bo)    from  Si.   Loll 
aftei   he  has  grown  up. 

\s     a      w  1  He:       l'>i  udkev      i  ould 

hast  d\  described  as  every tli ing  Jarn 
(ones  is  not.    I  lis  prose  is  (  uliivatj 
flexible,  totally  free  ol  straining] 
(Ih  i  1.   and    his  most    notable   (hail 
lei  isii(    is  a  kind  ol   pervasive  gen- 
ness.    I  le  ordinal  il\  deals  with  a  v. 
lew    i  hai  ,k  lets   mote   01    less    isola 
from  a  six  i.d  (  ontext,  and  ih<    k 
ol   situation   he  usually  (houses  i 
situation    that    shows    the    diffict 
people  ha\  e  in  sia\  ing  in  toiu  h  w 
i  .11  h  other,  the  trouble  the)  have 
expressing  and  a<  ( epting  and   mi 
1, lining  love. 

In  one  wav    the  slot  ies  sutler  frl 
being  collected   together— since  e; 
( \(  Ii   (  oikci  its  the  same  person, 
slot  ies  in  it  read  almost  like  1  hapt 
from  an  unfinished  novel.    But  t 
also   have  an   effe<  1    as  a   group  t    • 
the)    do   not    have  singly:    they 
saddei .      I  his   does    not    result    Ii 
the  events  in  the  stories,  which 
not  particularly  sad,  but  from  9 
quality  in  the  w  1  iting  itself,  a  ti 

ol      elegv      Ol       note      ol      lesignati 

I  hese  sidi  ies  may  be  too  quiet 
unihaiiiaiii    to   alliai  1    a    large   a 
ence,     but     the)     are    distinguisl 
fiction,  as  readers  ol  Brodkey's  "1 
Siiiind  ol   Moot  ish  Laughter"  in 

\l.iv     1956     issue    ol     Harper's    \| 
know. 

I  1 1  I  authors  of  Kilometre 
(Houghton  Mifflin,  $3.95)  are 
Israeli  husband-and-wife  writ 
team,  I  lerbert  Russc  ol  and  Margi 
Banai,  and  their  novel  is  set  in  d 
temporar)  Israel,  ( hiellv  on  a  a 
munal   farm   (kibbutz)  on   the  G 

boi  del    and    in     I  el     \v  iv. 

The  Russcols  portray  the  inter 
stresses  in   Israeli  soc  ieiv   by  a  set 
of    oppositions.       I  he)     show    (■ 
tinned     distrust     or     uneasiness 
tween     those    who     fought     in 
regular      aiinv      ol      liberation. 
Haganah,    and     those    who     fouj 
with    the   terrorist    Stern    Gang;   1 
|ews  ol  European  01  igin  find  ii  hi 
to  accept    the   Middle   Eastern    |i 
as  iheii   own  people,  espei  tally  wt 
a    question    of    intermarriage    w 
their  children  arises;  members  ol  1 


89 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 


tbbutz  who  are  daily  exposed  to 
rab  raids  and  working  to  reclaim 
te  desert  doubt  that  the  sale  city- 
sellers  in  Tel  Aviv  are  doing  their 
tare  tor  the  new  nation;  and  the 
dbbutzniks"  themselves  are  divided 
1  the  question  of  whether  it  is  bet- 
r  to  take  direct  action  against  Arab 
iders  or  to  leave  such  incidents  to 
ie  United  Nations. 
But  the  Russcols  do  not  limit 
lemselves  to  picturing  the  divisive 
»rces  in  Israel;  they  also  convey  a 
nse  of  its  powerful  unifying  force: 
te  determination  to  endure.  Kilom- 
\re  95  is  not  very  impressive  as  a 
avel,  but  it  is  a  fascinating  picture 
a  society  that  has  so  far  been  little 
ortrayed  in  fiction,  at  least  in  Eng- 
lish. 

/HERE  Kilometre  95  concerns  a 
'nd  of  life  that  is  hard  but  full  of 
ppe,  another  new  novel  from 
aroad— The  Man  on  the  Rock,  by 
ie  young  English  novelist  Francis 
ing  (Pantheon,  $3.50)— is  an  ac- 
ount  of  a  life  that  is  hopeless. 

The  chief  character  and  narrator 
i  the  book  is  a  Greek  named  Spiro. 
irphaned  in  the  Greek  civil  war 
lat  followed  the  second  world  war, 
piro  has  since  made  his  way  by  his 
>oks  and  his  nerve.  He  is  a  parasite 
l  a  society  that  offers  him  few  alter- 
ative ways  of  making  a  living,  and 
e  vents  his  hatred  of  his  own  de- 
endency  by  destroying  anyone  who 
ares  to  help  him.  He  is  successively 
iken  up  by  an  American  relief 
worker,  the  wife  of  a  rich  English 
usinessman,  and  the  daughter  of  a 
-reek  shipping  magnate,  all  of 
horn  love  him  after  their  more  or 
:ss  ambiguous  fashions,  and  each  of 
horn  he  destroys. 

The  Man  on  the  Rock  will  strike 
)me  readers  as  just  nasty,  and  no 
ne  could  pretend  that  it  tells  a 
retty  story.  But  the  Greek  back- 
round  is  brilliantly  sketched,  the 
haracterization  is  incisive,  and  the 
'hole  thing  carries  conviction. 

nhe  Sibyl,  by  the  Swedish  novelist 
nd  Nobel  Prize  winner  Par 
.agerkvist  (Random  House,  %?>),  is 
very  curious  work,  almost  impos- 
ible  to  describe  without  making  it 
>und  either  blasphemous  or  ridic- 
lous  or  both.  Ft  is  really  a  fable 
bout  the  nature  of  God;  the  closest 
tnng  to  it  among  recent  books  in 


English  that  come  to  mind  is  C.  S. 
Lewis's  Till  We  have  Faces,  and  that 
is  not  very  close. 

The  Sibyl  is  an  account  of  an  en- 
counter between  the  Wandering  Jew 
and  a  woman  who  has  served  as  a 
sibyl  in  a  Greek  temple.  The  Wan- 
dering Jew  speaks  first,  telling  how 
he  is  condemned  to  eternal  restless- 
ness because  he  has  denied  rest  to 
the  Son  of  God.  Then  the  sibyl  takes 
over,  telling  how  she  has  borne  a 
son  who  may  also  be  God's,  a  son 
who  has  grown  up  to  be  the  idiot 
who  shares  her  cave.  As  the  man 
and  woman  finish  their  stories  they 
realize  that  the  idiot  has  dis- 
appeared. They  follow  his  tracks  up 
the  mountain  in  the  snow  until  the 
tracks  disappear,  evidence  that  he 
has  ascended. 

The  manner  of  The  Sibyl  is  a 
little  portentous;  something  seems 
always  about  to  be  disclosed  that 
never  appears,  and  the  thought  of 
the  book  is  hardly  complex  enough 
to  justify  the  amount  of  narrative 
that  is  required  to  convey  it.  What- 
ever may  be  true  of  the  Swedish 
original,  the  English  translation  by 
Naomi  Waliord  is  chaste  and  ele- 
gant. 


BOOKS 


in  brief 


KATIIE'RINE  GAUSS  JACKSON 


FICTION 

Forever  Strangers,  by  Eleanor  Mayo. 
A  tragic  story  of  two  brothers;  of 
responsibility's  unshakable  debt  to 
the  irresponsible;  and  of  the  blighl 
of  immaturity  that  can  follow  when 
the  young  are  not  allowed  to  pay  for 
their  own  mistakes.  The  background 
is  a  small  Maine  town.  One  sym- 
pathizes with  Sam,  the  older  brother, 
in  his  dilemma  as  to  whether  to 
abandon  the  younger  to  his  post- 
Korean-War  lollies  or  to  try  to  pro- 
tect him  from  them.  One  sympathizes 
with  the  younger  brother,  up  to  the 
last  violent  scene,  in  the  intensity  of 
his  emotions  and  especially  in  his 
love  for  a  girl  whom  the  town  has 
turned  its  back  on.  And  Jude,  Sam's 
compassionate  wife,   lends  the  rich- 


New  Borzoi  Books 


GUSTAV 
AHLER 


By  BRUNO  WALTER 

A  living  portrait  of  Mahler 
and  an  estimate  of  his  career 
and  compositions,  by  a  great 
conductor  who  knew  him  well. 
An  intensely  human  document 
of  a  unique  kind.  $3.50 


ISS  HOWARD 

AND  THE 

PEROR 


By  SIMONE  ANDRE 
MAUROIS 

The  little-known  story  of  a 
beautiful,  scandalous  English- 
woman who — with  money  and 
with  love — helped  Napoleon 
III  to  reach  the  throne.  Biog- 
raphy at  its  entertaining  best. 
$5.00 


THE  OPEN  SEA 

And  Other  Poems 
By  WILLIAM  MEREDITH 

"Meredith  is  an  expert  writer 
.  .  .  His  intelligent  poems, 
unlike  most  poems,  have  a 
character  behind  them,  one 
that  is  solitary,  gray,  dignified 
and  'Spanish'." 

—Robert  Lowell  $3.50 

At  most  bookstores 
ALFRED  A.   KNOPF,  Publisher 


90 


BOOKS     IN      11  R  I  E  r 


Give  to  your 
HEART  FUND 


THE   OLDEST  WRITERS'   SERVICE 

Literary  Agent,  established  37  years.  Manuscript* 
criticized,  revised,  typed,  marketed.  Special  attention  to 
Book  manuscripts.  Poetry.   Catalogue  on  request. 

Agnes  M.   Reeve, 
Dept.  B,  Franklin,  0. 


ATHEIST  BOOKS 

32 -page  catalogue  free. 
Truth  Seeker  Co.       38  Park  Row,  New  York  8.  N.  Y. 


OUT-OF-PRINT   BOOKS 

—AT   L0WE8T   PRICES! 

You   name   it — we   find   itl    Fast    service.    No   obligation. 
Send  ua  your  wants! 

INTERNATIONAL   B00KFIN0ER8 
Box   3003-H.  Beverly    Hills,    Calif. 


SCHOOLS 


ECOLE   CHAMPLAIN— FRENCH   CAMP 

Girls  fi-16.  On  Lake  Chauiplain,  Conversational  French 
with  European  counselors.  Tuition  Includes  daily  riding, 
sailing,  water  sports,  tennis,  dramatics,  music,  art.  dancing. 
35th  year,  Sunday  Services,  Three  groups.  Please  state  age. 
Mrs.  E.  F.  Chase,  123  Summit  Street.  Burlinoton.  Vermont 


MARY  A.  BURNHAM  SCHOOL 

Kor  girls.  Thorough  college  preparation.  Fully  ac- 
credited, Music  and  Art  emphasized.  Collegi  town 
advantage  Riding,  Skiing,  Swimming.  All  sports.  Men- 
sendieck  method  for  posture.  National  enrollment  81st 
year.  Gymnasium.  Summer  School.  Newport.  R.I.  Catalogs. 
Mrs     George    W.    Emerson.    Box    43.    Northampton.    Mass. 


ness  of  pity  to  an  otherwise  tortured 
relationship.  The  writing  is  occa- 
sionally too  homespun  Eoi  m\  taste, 
and  throwbacks  Eoi  the  purpose  ol 
making  literary  comparisons  some- 
times interrupt  high  points  in  the 
novel.  l'>wi  the  authoi  makes  a  dra 
matic  and  universal  stoi\  ol  hei 
credible  Down  East  (  harai  ters. 

Norton,  $3.75 

A  Lesson  in  Love.  I>\  Margaret  Creal. 
One  is  always  having  to  swallow 
prejudices.  Foi  .1  long  time  I've  been 
saying:  "No  more  novels  about  girls' 
schools  and  schoolgirl  crushes."  But 
in  this  story  ol  giils  in  the  Anglican 
St.  Cuthbert's  School  scl  in  the  wide 
prairies  ol  western  Canada,  the 
si  hoolgirl  enthusiasms  a\m\  rebellions 
(particularly  the  rebellions  against 
being  made  into  English  young 
ladies)  take  on  not  only  interest  but 
a  touching  reality.  And  the  rebel 
Nicola,  losing  hersell  in  adoration 
lot  a  glamorous  schoolmate  belong- 
ing to  a  world  she  has  nc\ti  known. 
escapes  momentarily  the  poverty- 
stricken,  sternly,  though  lovingly, 
disciplined  world  ol  her  grandfather, 
Dean  of  the  Pro-Cathechal  ol  St. 
Matthew.  He  had  been  hei  guardian 
since  the  death  of  her  parents  when 
she  was  a  year  old.  Her  efforts  to  re- 
concile the  two  worlds  and  find  her 
own  core  of  integrity  are  moving  and 
full  of  the  humor  ol  human  frailty  as 
well.  And  the  author  makes  lull  use 
of  the  austere  but  beautiful  Ca- 
nadian country  as  background  lor 
her  parable  of  the  confusing  choices 
of  love  which  the  world  offers  to 
children  growing  up. 

Simon  8c  Schuster,  $3.95 

Kampong,  by  Ronald  Haul\. 

The  jacket  on  this  book  calls  it  "A 
powerful  novel  about  a  medical 
unit's  desperate  fight  against  .  .  . 
cholera  in  Indonesia."  And  the  pub- 
lishers are  right  to  indicate  that  this 
is  the  high  moment  of  the  story.  Ac- 
tually only  about  three  chapters  of 
the  book  deal  with  the  outbreak  of 
cholera  and  they  are  exciting  pages 
indeed.  The  rest  of  the  book  deals 
with  the  personalities  ot  the  medical 
unit  (English,  Dutch,  Javanese)  and 
the  hothouse  sympathies  and  violent 
antagonisms  that  grow  up  as  intem- 
perately  as  everything  else  in  the 
tropic  jungles.  How  these  attitudes 
affect  everything  from  medical  prac- 


tice to  the  complicated  internal  poli- 
tics ol  those  clistui  heel  islands  is  the 
central  theme  of  the  book  though 
there  are  others:  What  brings  each 
person  then?  Is  ii  worth  while  to 
take  medicine  to  the  primitive 
jungles?  should  medicine  get  tan- 
gled in  politics?  Can  it  sta\  apart? 
1  he  end,  w  hie  h  relates  to  the  irJ 
volved  Dutch-Indonesian  politics, 
seems  to  have  less  validity  and  ex- 
citement than  the  story  ol  the  epi- 
demic, and  the  book  loses  stature  as 
one  loses  track  ol  what  is  happening 
in  the  disease-ridden  kampongs.  Bui 
one  feels  the  place,  the  tensions,  the 
hysteria,  and  admires  the  men  who 
keep  some  grip  on  reality  and  the 
way  Mr.  Hardy  makes  them  grow 
01  dwindle  under  the  press  ol  cir- 
cumstance. Doubleday,  $3.95 

NON-FICTION 

The  Movies,  by  Richard  Griffith  ami 
Arthur  Mayer. 

These  436  pages  may  seem  to  make 
a  big  book.  They  certainly  make  a 
fascinating  one  both  to  look  at  and 
to  read.  Here  is  the  life  of  the  movies 
—the  life  ol  each  one  ol  us  over  forty 
-and  who  would  think  436  pages 
enough  to  cover  forty  personal  years, 
let  alone  forty  years  of  an  art  whose 
techniques,  styles,  stars,  and  attitudes 
have  changed  in  undreamed  of  ways 
since  the  nickelodeon  fust  charmed 
our  youth?  Even  so,  as  the  authors 
explain,  there  has  been  no  room  to 
include  cartoons  (another  whole 
book,  they  say)  or  documentaries, 
and  post-World  War  II  movies  arc 
treated  more  briefly  than  those  that 
come  before,  ft  is  not  only  nostalgic: 
it  is  a  beautiful  book  and  an  amus- 
ing one.  People  who  picked  it  up 
from  my  desk  had  to  be  watched 
carefully  as  they  laughed  their  way 
through  it.  I  had  to  make  sure  they 
finally  put  it  down.  1,000  pictures, 
150,000  words. 

Simon  &  Schuster. 


And  the  Price  is  Right:  The  R.  H.J 

Macy     Story,     by     Margaret     Case 
Harriman. 

This  book  starts  with  the  story  o. 
how  Macy  outfitted  Queen  Salote  of 
Tonga  "from  head  to  foot— a  con- 
siderable distance"  for  the  corona 
tion  of  Queen  Elizabeth  II.  And  in 
the  same  amused,  amusing,  and  en 
thusiastic  vein  it  proceeds  to  tell  the 


\ 


91 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 


lole  century-old  history  of  the 
reatest  Store  on  Earth.  People,  em- 
oyee-customer  anecdotes,  changes 
style  and  taste,  changes  in  ways 
merchandising,  employee  clubs 
id  traditions;  they  are  all  here.  Do 
at  want  to  know  how  much  Macy's 
ends  a  year  on  white  carnations 
r  its  executives'  lapels?  How  many 
dies  of  twine;  of  Scotch  tape;  how 
any  gift  boxes  they  use  in  twelve 
onths?  Every  page  vibrates  with  in- 
rmation  and  at  least  one  good 
3ry.  By  the  author  of  Blessed 
e  the  Debonair  and  The  Vicious 
rcle.  World,  $4 

rawn  From  Memory,  by  Ernest  H. 
tepard. 

Mr.  Shepard's  drawings  of  his  own 
)yhood  in  London  are  so  like  those 
hich  he  made  for  Christopher 
obin's  London  that  to  many  people 
the  last  two  generations,  Mr. 
lepard's  pictures  of  seventy  odd 
ars  ago  seem— happily— familiar, 
nd  of  course,  in  spite  of  wars  and 
tastrophes  and  time,  much  of  Lon- 
)n  still  does  look  as  it  did  in  Mr. 
lepard's  boyhood.  His  autobio- 
aphical  text  which  accompanies  the 
■awings  has  the  same  timeless, 
larming  quality  as  he  tells  the  story 
:  one  year  (his  seventh)  of  a  Vic- 
torian boyhood.  One  feels  that  a 
orld  of  unhurried  kindness,  affec- 
jn,  and  grace  have  surrounded  him 
ways— again,  in  spite  of  wars,  catas- 
ophes,  and  time.  Mr.  Shepard,  it  is 
irdly  necessary  to  add,  is  the  illus- 
ator  of  A.  A.  Milne's  When  We 
?ere  Very  Young  and  at  least  thirty 
:her  volumes. 

Lippincott,  $3.75 

larms  and  Diversions,  by  James 
liurber.  Twenty  years  of  the  best 
l  Thurber— articles  and  drawings— 
:lected  by  the  creator  thereof.  All 
f  Part  I  (78  pages)  appears  here  for 
re  first  time  in  book  form. 

Harper,  $4.50 

^he      Gluyas      Williams      Gallery: 

)rawings  by  Gluyas  Williams  &  His 
llustrations  with  Text  from  Famous 
looks  by  Corey  Ford,  Edward 
treeter,  Laurence  McKinney,  David 
IcCord,  Robert  Benchley,  and  Ralf 
archer. 

The  sub-heading  explains  the  con- 

ents  of  the  book,  but  not  its  delight. 

Flarper,  $4.95 


FORECAST 


Big  Novels  in  February 

Publishers'  lists  for  February  bris- 
tle with  exciting  titles  and  authors. 
Houghton  Mifflin  will  produce  Anya 
Seton's  The  Winthrop  Woman, 
which  will  be  the  Book  of  the  Month 
for  March.  Putnam  will  publish 
Jephta  and  His  Daughter  by  Lion 
Feuchtwangei ;  and  Doubleday  an- 
nounces Ride  the  Red  Earth  by  Paul 
Wellman,  author  of  Jericho's  Daugh- 
ters and  The  Iron  Mistress.  From 
Harper  comes  Betty  Smith's  Maggie 
Now  and  Howard  Spring's  Time 
and  the  Hour.  C.  P.  Snow  has  a  new 
novel  to  add  to  his  long  serial, 
Strangers  and  Brothers,  this  one 
called  The  Conscience  of  the  Rich, 
(from  Scribner).  And  Jerome  Weid- 
man  has  The  Enemy  Camp  on  the 
February  list  at  Random  House. 

Professional  Autobiographies 

Piet  Bakker,  a  journalist  and 
teacher,  tells  the  story  of  one  of  his 
pupils,  a  poverty-stricken  Dutch  boy 
called  the  Rat,  in  Ciske  the  Rat 
which  Doubleday  will  publish  in 
March,  saying  that  it  has  something 
of  the  "tenderness  and  humor  by 
which  the  Diary  of  Anne  Frank 
reached  readers'  hearts."  The  same 
publishers  will  issue,  also  in  March, 
another  book  by  that  professional 
traveler  and  journalist  Negley  Far- 
son,  The  Lost  World  of  the  Cau- 
casus. His  Way  of  a  Transgressor 
was  a  best  seller  for  many,  many 
weeks.  .  .  .  Another  professional- 
playwright,  Congresswoman,  and 
Ambassador  to  Italy— Clare  Boothe 
Luce  is  writing  her  memoirs,  The 
Dream  oj  My  Life,  and  Harper  will 
publish  them  sometime  in  1958.  In 
that  same  vasjue  "sometime"  Vikino 
will  publish  the  exciting  and  im- 
probable memoirs  of  Boris  Morros, 
'the  Hollywood  producer  turned 
counterspy  for  the  FBI"  whose  un- 
dercover work  led  to  the  cracking  of 
the  Sobel  Communist  spy  ring.  And 
then  there  are  the  sportsmen:  Carl 
Rowan  is  at  work  on  a  biography  of 
Jackie  Robinson,  that  first  Negro 
major  league  ball  player,  which  Ran- 
dom House  will  publish  late  in  1958; 
and  Lou  Little,  head  coach  of  Co- 
lumbia football  teams  for  twenty-six 
years,  is  spending  his  first  year  of 
retirement  writing  his  life  story 
(on. the  Prentice-Hall  fall  list). 


You  will  reach  for  it  often 


THE  MASTER  SAID 

Sayings  of  PARAMHANSA  YOGANANDA 

Author  of  "Autobiography  of  a  Yogi" 

Intimate  glimpses  into  the  mind  of  a 
modern  world  teacher.  Yogananda's 
sayings  and  wise  counsel  to  disciples 
contain  practical  advice  that  anyone 
may  use  to  solve  his  problems.  Shin- 
ing from  every  page  are  the  author's 
boundless  love  for  God  and  his  com- 
passionate understanding  of  man. 

SELF-REALIZATION    FELLOWSHIP 

*  (Dept.TVTTT-2) 

vc^L/  Los  Angeles  65,  Calif. 

At  All  Bookstores $2.50 


SHAKER  HERB  TEA 

—Special  Introductory  Offer— 

You've  NEVER  tasted  exotic  herb  tea  like  this! 
Unique  blend  of  finest  tea  and  exotic  herbs  pro- 
duced at  historic  Shaker  Village,  famous  since  1780 
for  table  delicacies  of  top  quality.  During  Intro- 
ductory Offer,  you  get  this  distinctive  aromatic 
Early-American  blend  at  fraction  of  cent  per  cup. 
You'll  s-a-v-o-r  the  unique,  special  flavor  for 
snacks  and  meals.  For  generous  supply  during  this 
special  low  cost  offer,  send  only  $1 .  If  not  delighted, 
keep  the  Herb  Tea  and  receive  full  refund.  Write? 

SHAKER  VILLAGE  INDUSTRIES 

Dept.  941      -    New  Lebanon,  New  York 


All  subjects,  all  languages.  Also  Genealogies  and 
Family  and  Town  Histories.  Incomplete  sets  com- 
pleted. A 1 1  magazine  back  numbers  supplied.  Send 
us  your  list  of  wants.  No  obligation.  We  report 
quickly  at   lowest  prices, 

{We  also  supply  all  current  hooks  at  retail  store  prices 
— Postpaid,  as  well  as  all  books  reviewed,  advertised 
or  listed  in  this  issue  of  Harper*s  Magazine.) 

AMERICAN    LIBRARY   SERVICE 

117    West    48th    Street.    Dept.    H,     New    York    36,     N.    Y. 
N.B.    We    also    BUY    books    and    magazines. 


MAKE  MONEY  WRITING 

...Short  Paragraphs!  Hundreds  of  beginners 
now  making  money  writing  short  paragraphs.  I 
tell  you  what  to  write,  where  and  how  to  sell; 
and  supply  list  of  editors  who  buy  from  be- 
ginners. No  tedious  study.  Write  to  sell,  right 
away.  Send  for  free  facts.  BENSON  BARRETT, 
Dept.  77-0,  7464  N.  Clark  St.,  Chicago  26,  III. 


Whether  you  are  changing  your  address  for  a  few  months 
or  permanently,  you  will  want  to  receive  every  issue  of 
Harper's  promptly.  When  advising  us  of  a  change  of  ad- 
dress please  indicate  both  the  old  and  new  address.  Please 
allow  six  weeks  for  effecting  this  change. 

HARPER'S    MAGAZINE 
49  East  33d  St.  New  York   16,   N.  Y. 


I  ./     _ 


/// 


r  //n*' 


R KC OH  DINGS 


Edu  ard  Tatnall  Canby 


\  \  1. 1  i. 

Si  ii  t  (     Now  iiilx  i     1 1)5.1     Vngi  i    I 
.  .1 .1 .     in     smerican    ouilcl    loi    tin 

1 1 1 1  •  ■ .    i  ■,  1 1  n  i ,  i     ii  1 1 1  n  i  / . .  i  ■  1 1  i  ( 1 1  I  ii 
Columbiii     MM)      nul   olhei    label 

1  <>  I  o  i     "i    \ 

i '     1)1    l||l      lllir      I    i  ■  .11'  i   I  ill  l|  I 

albums  eve]    I       \  ii      :  

ill    II  llil J     '   III  I   I"       \ I    III    I 

.inn.!  ill     I  ).n  In 

tool      In    i    ,.  ..|  i.  ...   record  ii 

1. 1,     i  •  1 1  ■  ■ .     ..I    ni.iii  i  ill 

..I   lop  inien   I   worked  ii   - 

i  .i  in    i,i    presentation     <  ombining    tin 

ii     iimI    phoi 

i  i j . 1 1 v  >>  nil  mi. ii  mm  il  critical  i  ril  ing  and 

.i  mar  vein ol  historical  material 

\ngel    in. nli     .i    unique    h pi I    docu 

in.  ni. H  \       l  In  ,i     in  aulilull)    organizi  J 

album*  liavi    I) In   di  ipaii  ing  Icl 

i i  li<  i    \  mi  i  n  in  i pan  ii  ■     In  ibcii 

wa\   Lbc)  .ii '    .i    mi|  H  ii  i  i m    i n  i In  n 
tin    i     ni    hi   and   i '  inn '    and    inloi 

H   HI        -I  ill'  I     "III I        I  III    I  l     .  mill 

the   I  >i.i,",lnl'  \    ballcl   producl  ions  ol   the 
I i.i  ,i     Sunn    il.n     museums   "ill   di  pla 
iIk  in 

I  mi  l.i  i  year,  Vngi  I  was  l)i mghl  oul 
l,\  ( lapitol  Records  (Oddly,  <  la  pi  in]  is 
also    hi    I  Ml    exten  thai    111  ilish 

I     \l  I         ll.l  •        III        '    II'   .   I  "III        I         Us 

lil   mi  Ik    .     I"      iimI  Ik  ii        IIk       |.khi    I  i  in  • 

s.ii  i  i .  i  ,  i hull  il  in  i Ik  exchangi 

.mil    sold     "in     I  In  n     nil.  i  ■     i        I  In  i  i       1 1 . 

I  .ni  .I  n     i .  1 1 1  mi    .ill     ides    i  Il.n 

\  ngi  l   will   go   lorward   us   in    tin    pasi 
Bui    nous   i ■   also     u lhal 


i  in  .nli  .I     iin  i  iini'iii 

|  ■  i '  \  .  1 1 1     .nul     iIk      1 1 1 1 1 1 '  •      \  '  i 

iii.in  in  ii  iiniii,  ,l  ini  profil    in  inn 
'  I,  ii      ih,     peopli     inn       i     the 
i  .in  Smiik     embittered    opera 

i  in  ill  I,  in.  ml"  i  1 1 1. 1 1  Vngel's  begin 
niug  coincided  with  tin  all  ol  tin 
Sui  i.i  .    .  ii  I,,  i    (  .  1 1  i  Shi  i  i    label    to   the 

iik      I I  ill       Mini  ii      i  ,si  1 1 

"I     ' mini' 

II      \  1 1  -  i    .  I  '  i 1 1 1 1 .  1 1  \     lo 

be  sii|i|n  i  .i.i  "i  i|n.  '  /.  1 1  into  highei 
profil    i  iiiilm  mux     wi     would    i i 

ni   I  he  not.'lbll    m  in  in  i   ,  i  ii   I  Ik    wholi    Ins 

lor)   "i    I,,  ording    Vou'd   bcttei    go  oul 
inn  .ill  iIk    \ngi  Is  you  can  find    ind 

|.i  k  i    no  object    jus usi     Whatcvei 

happen       on   i     n'l   hi    ioi  i  \ 

Some  Classical  Stereo 

I  1 1  .ih/,  i  Li  i  readers  will  bi  di>  ided 
into  those  who  have  i  rossed  into  the 
wonderland  ol  itereo  lapi  and  thosi  who 
haven'l    bul  to  implcmcnl  m)  luggcsl  ion 

in    I  in  i  lulu  i    thai    ste Ilers    eriou 

musical  vahn      hen    is  a  cross-section  ol 

I I  i  ■  |  .i  i  ..  ii  in  iv  i     Ii  igh  i  ilin     tapes, 

I  Him     I  In      I Il  .  il  .    ..I     I  In  I vv     jv.nl 

able. 

I  oi  ii    Symphony       I  (195  i).   I'm  iburgh 

Sv  mpl \ .      Steinberg      Capitol      /I   i 

tape) 

I  I      is      "".id      I"      lu  V  i       (  :.l|ill"l  I   \,  i   lli    ii  I 

i ..  i          i          ippearing    on    stereo 
i. inc.  Ini  musical  l •    well    •    tech 


\\  OK  I  II    LOOK  I  \<;   /  \  TO  .  .  . 

Stereo 

u.ivcl    I'.ni,  i ,,.  (  .i| Espagnol,  ll"l      Elgar:   Enigma   Variations,   Halli    Orch 

lywood     Howl     Symph     Orch      <   i])itol      llarbirolli,    Mercurj    VICS5-12 
/l    l 

Bizet:  Carmen  Suite;  L'Arldsicnne  Suite 
It. nli:  Concerto  in  l>  Minoi  foi  I  »"  ;:l.  D.etroil  Symph.,  Para)  Mcrcur) 
\  I'.lins    (  law  i  il"ll     Win  Inn  ;    I  lambui  g      M  I  >s    .   , 

<  li.iini"  i    Orcli      <  •'"  in     Cc)i 1 1. ill 

I  \     in  Beethoven:  Piano  Concerto    /  1,    Rubin 

sn  in:  Sympl \  "l  tin     Vir,  Ki  i|is.  R(  IA 

Brahms:    Aim   Rhapsody;   Tragi*    Ovei       Vi FCS   GO, 

I.     I  l.illiii  in      \     (.,1  nun    I'lnlli     Orel), 

and   ill. .in      r,  in id  iki     Conceri    II. ill      Ibert:     Divertissement.      lloston     Pops, 

M\  I  inll, -i.    RC  \   \  i,  mi     \(  :s    .1 

Monk's  Musii  (Thel s  Monl      I   ;     i       Dvorak:   Serenade.    Los    \ngcles   Wood 

siiK    ki     ,  "ii    r,\  winds,    Raksin.   Stereo   tape   8, 


mi  .il     iIk  m    i  .ni    lil  i  lv    i"   he   Jin  iln 

linn  Ii     In  I  n  i 

Iln.    i  .    "in     "I     lli<      Iiik     1 1 '   .  1 1  .i  I 

Hi  reo  tap<  s  I'vi   heard     Vliki   tci  luiiqufj 

I  In    lull  •    In  any  case,  ihcn    is  a  wide, 

ill  '  ii   ■     |..ni  .    ..I    inn  .ii      v  In  n     iln     \ln 

i  in  \  Para)  i.i|„  I,,  lov  an  hugi  am 
round    thi    Ho  iton  lapi     iomi  vv  hal   nefl 

n.illv  i  "i  ii  i  i      ill,     n  ing  so I  lin    is 

inni    ii.illv     Inn       ImiI     sn    is     iln      i,  J 

I  In  I  -J  I,  \  1 1 1 1 > 1 1 •  > , i \ .  .hi  unexpected 
inn  i  Ii  v  from  i  '  ompo  m  r  w  ho  was  protfl 
un  in  in  iln  '  .ii  lv  model iiisiii  nl  die 
twentii  cclh  ni  w,n  k  «,l  mi 
nginalivi  I)  conscrvativi  idiom,  noi  mo 
In  removed  I  rom  \'>n  tok's  Concei  dj 
l"i    <  ><<  In   lu    in    Us   "in  w .ml    n    I 

<  ombining   .i   sensi    "l    I  hud'  mith    w  uh 
1 kovich-liki      marches       Ma)  I"'     ii 

i  ni  'gri  at"  bul  ii  has  the  imrni  diaq 
virtues  ol  listcnability,  expert  on  hestra 
lion  consistent  and  well  worked  ol 
1 1 '  l n  . 1 1  \    ..I     i'ii 

Liszt!    VIephisto    Waltz.    Chicago    SyofJ 
l-lninv.     Reiner,     K<   \     Vii  toi      w  IS  9 
Ni,"   tape) 

Mi'  l  Ins  is  tlie  siull  ilus  shori  tap! 
(.in  stand  I'M  the  dozens  ol  Chicago 
r. '  i in  i  tapes  now  ahead)  issued,  rl 
imili  superb  stereo  sound  and  superbly 
i.i ui.  exciting  playing  rhis  pica  is  afl 
too  'i.ilv   tossed  "II  .is  .ui  old  lashionefl 

warhorse;    hen    il   i es   thi  ough   .is  I 

l> j    '  xpressive,   bittei  swi  el   evoi  a 

lion  "i  tin    waltz,  tin    very  best  ol   Lisa 

mil    in    ,i   i  lass   vv  il  Ii    I  In     lu  nsl    Sv  ui|ili"liy, 

the  r>  Muiiii  Sonata,  tins  is  ,i  goal 
samplei  tape  (being  shori  and  relative]! 
i  heap  i  il  vim  w  .mi  in  ii  \   k( I  \\  Iksi  . 

Debussy:  Iberia;  Prelude  to  the  "Aftenj 
noon  <>i  ,i  Faun."  Detroit  Symphony 
Para)      Mercurj    M  lis  ,  s   (stereo   tapel 

As     I     llslrn     In     tlllS     s|i|(  inliillv      v   isl     ill '■ 

<  liesl  ill     .nil"    I  in    i  riiiiml'il    ill. ii    ic- 

lul   sound   .u    best    is  a    magnifii  end 

illn j  ml   sin  i  "   is  .in   extension   a] 

the  same,  literal  in  onl)  a  limited  sens! 
bul  capable  "l  i  emai  k .a l >  1  <  suggi  live 
in  ss  I  Ins  tape  presei  \  es  i  he  huge 
sound  ii  liHvnl  in  Men  ui  j 's  "in  ini 
jii  cseni  c"  single  mike  <  I  is,  recoi  ils. 
i  in  nigh  In  n  ih,  technique  uses  i  luce 
mikes,  three  tracks,  i he  central  track  in 
"in  ii  .mI\    added   to   i  he   side    i  rai  ks   Im 

i In   In, im    tape,   Mi  is  audible,  i his  third 

I I  .ii  k.    I  "    j    kind    "I    illusil  mi    I  li.il    plat  es 

j  sound  heard   idem n  all)   :ai  h  side 

pi c<  isi  lv  in  i In  iriiii'i  between  i he  ivM 
si  un  ccs.)     I  In  i '    is.  to  i"     in '     j  soma 

ui    in. it  h    i.ivc    .il  m,  IspllCl  i     I"    I  In' 

IIIIISK      hill      il      IS     I  .11      I  I  "III     "I,  j(  ,  I  KMI.lllle. 

I  lu'  job  is  di  .in  j  .  i  In  in  mi  s  iuggesl . 
wiih  "restraint  and  gi m id  taste"  .is  to 
i in    ni,  h,  ,i i ,d  1 1. 1 1 .i 1 1 1 ,   < ii  detail 

Para)   is   i  fini   luctoi  and,  tin  lugfl 

"I  lin    u  ,  i  in  i  ii     in    "I  In  I     I  v  jus    "I    imisii  . 

a  sobci   .ind  experi   spokesman  toi    the 


* 


• 


No  other  symbol  promises  so  much  (and  delivers  i 


%t) 


When  you  see  the  Capitol  Full  Dimensional  Sound 
symbol  on  the  upper  right  hand  corner  of  a  Capitol 
record  album,  you  know  several  things: 

(/)  An  artist  of  the  first  rank  has  given  an  excep- 
tional performance. 

(2)  This  performance  has  been  flawlessly  recorded 
by  Capitol's  creative  staff  and  saund  engineers. 


(8)  It  has  been  listened  to  and  approved  by  the 
record-rating  "Jury."  They  have  labeled  it  "Fall 
Dimensional  Sound" — the  purest  high  fidelity  known 
to  the  recorder's  art. 

This  is  what  the  FDS  symbol  promises  and 
delivers.  Isn't  it  worth  looking  for  the  next  time 
you're  shopping  for  record  albums? 


Incomparable  High  Fidelity — Full  Dimensional  Sound  Albums 


"Air.  Teddy  likes  milk  too . . ." 

Frail  little  Heide  is  worried  about  her 
teddy  bear.  She  likes  to  pretend  to 
feed  him  but  there  is  often  not  even 
enough  food  for  hungry  Heide  her- 
self. Her  delicate  health  is  a  result 
of  her  mother's  malnutrition  before 
Heide's  birth,  and  a  totally  inadequate 
diet  ever  since.  After  Heide's  father 
was  killed,  life  became  so  desperate 
that  she  and  her  mother  made  a  night- 
mare escape  from  behind  the  Iron 
Curtain  into  West  Germany. 

Heide's  courageous  mother  has 
found  work  as  a  weaver,  but  her  piti- 
fully small  wages  cannot  possibly 
provide  Heide  with  enough  clothing 
or  the  proper  food.  This  woman's 
heart  cries  out  for  the  help  that  only 
someone  like  you  can  give. 

What  $10  a  month  can  do  for  a  child  like  Heide 

There  are  5,000  overseas  children  like  Heide 
who,  thanks  to  the  generosity  of  American 
friends,  are  sponsored  through  Save  the  Chil- 
dren Federation  and  receive  a  variety  of  food 
benefits,  clothing  and  many  other  essentials. 
You  can  have  a  child  of  your  own  for  only  $10 
a  month — $120  a  year.  You  receive  a  photo- 
graph and  story  of  your  child  and  may  corre- 
spond with  the  child  and  the  family.  Won't 
you  please  help? 

SCF  National  Sponsors  include:  Mrs. 
Dwight  D.  Eisenhower,  Herbert  Hoover, 
Henry  R.  Luce,  Rabbi  Edgar  F.  Magnin, 
Norman  Rockwell,  Dr.  Ralph  W.  Sockman. 


FOUNDED  1932  HA  2-58 

SAVE  THE  CHILDREN 

FEDERATION 

345  East  46th  Street,  New  York,  N.Y. 
Pleate  iend  me  my  child's  name,  ttory  and  picture. 

I  want  to  sponsor  a  child  in  Greece  .  .  -  Korea  .  .  . 
Finland  .  .  .  West  Germany  .  .  .  France  .  .  .  Austria  ...  or 
where  the  need  is  greatest . . .  Enclosed  is  $10  (or  1  month . . . 
$30  for  1st  quarter .  .  .  $120  for  I  year  ...  I  cannot  be  a 
sponsor  but  enclosed  is  a  gift  of  $  . . . 


Name. . 
Address 
City.  .  . 


State 

CONTRIBUTIONS   ARE   DEDUCTIBLE   FROM    INCOME   TAX 


THE     NEW     RECORDINGS 


French  school  of  thought,  trained 
straight  oul  ol   Debussy's  own  period. 

Debussy:  La  Mer.  Boston  Symphony, 
Munch.  RCA  Victoi  CCS-56  (stereo 
tape). 

RCA's  stereo  catalogue  is  alread)  huge, 
much  ol  its  musk  performed  l>\  the  Bos 
ton  Symphon)  undei  Munch  and  the 
Chicago  under  Reiner.  1  his  is  repre- 
sentative <>l  the  Boston  tapes,  consid- 
erably less  flamboyant  in  sound  than 
those  ol  the  Chicago  orchestra,  impec- 
cabl)  played  and  superbly  balanced  in 
detail  but,  all  in  all.  on  the  cool  :ide— 
not   in   the  slang   sense-,  eithet 

Compared  to  Mercury's  Debussy,  this 
notabl)  lacks  the  "mammoth  cave" 
sound,  is  relative!)  unspectacular;  but  in 
the  end  (aftei  repetitions)  you  ma)  find 
its  more  straightforward  stei  ■  record- 
ing preferable.  1  lien's  a  place  foi  both 
kinds.  In  quality,  the  tape  is  superbl) 
clean,  distortion-free,  recorded  at  a  fairly 
low  level  on   long-play   tape. 

Berlioz:  Symphonie  Fantastique.  V  \. 
Philharmonic,  Mitropoulos.  Columbia 
OMB-6   (stereo   tap* 

Columbia's  Mitropoulos  recordings  ol 
the  earl)  Romantic  period  are  prizes  in 
the  catalogue.  He  is  dm-  ol  the  few 
conductors  who  can  come)  that  illusive 
sense  of  wide-eyed,  palpitating  emotion, 
the  Grecian  purit)  ol  line  the  almost 
naive  emotional  simplicity  thai  were 
the  great  expression  of  that  day.  Mush 
of  this  sort  is  played  toda)  mostl)  with 
,-,  sort  ol  embarrassment,  a  half-hearted 
attempt  to  make  it  sound  soul-stirring 
that  merely  dans  ii  as  old-fashioned. 

I  Ik  Mitropoulos  "Scotch"  Symphon) 
ol  Mendelssohn  is  an  earlier  notable  re- 
cording in  this  vein;  the  "Fantastique" 
rises  beautifully  above  a  do/en  <-i  so 
other  recorded  versions  in  honesty  and 
freshness  ol  sound.  Its  only  accommo- 
dation to  modernism  is  a  leanness,  a 
speed,  i hat  are  definitely  ol  now  rather 
than  a  century  agoi  Does  the  music 
good,     lopnotch   stereo   recording. 

Stravinsky:    The   Rite   of  Spring.     Paris 
Conservatory  Orch..  Monteux.  RCA  Vic 
tor    ECS-67    (stereo    tape). 

This  is  a  "hi-fi"  style  recording,  but  the 
sharp,  close-up  sound,  the  pronounced 
side-to-side  separation  ol  the  instru- 
ments, is  brilliantly  suited  to  the  music 

-the  same  sound  lor  Brahms  would  be 
preposterous.  (Even  more  than  in  stand- 
ard recording,  stereo  technique  has  to  be 
matched  to  the  musical  needs  of  the  mo- 
ment.) Sound  addicts  will  enjoy  it  but 
so  will  Stravinsky  addicts. 

Papa  Monteux  has  a  special  wa\  with 
scores  of  this  sort,  out  ol  his  own  enter- 


prising  youth.  1  In  \  are  so  sensible,  so 
intelligible  to  him.  so  much  out  ol  the 
great  Franco-Russian  tradition  of  his 
own  background,  that  his  playing  makes 
them  sound  oddl)  conservative,  very 
musical,  not  at  all  radical!  This,  alter 
all  is  nothing  but  the  truth,  as  ol  today. 
I  he  French  orchestra  pla\s  with  en- 
thusiasm and  concentration.  Though  the 
tempi  are  slow  .n\i\  the  sound  is  not  as 
furious  as  usual,  the  piece  is  very  much 
alive,  the  paganism  as  pagan  as  even 
in  a  universal  sort  ol  way.  Utogcther, 
quite  a   i  lassie    rendition. 

Prokofieff:  Peter  and  the  Well.  Philadel- 
phia Orch.,  Ormandy.  Cyril  Ritchard, 
nan.    Columbia    JMB-4   (stereo  tape). 

I  Ins  is  ,in  admirable  tape,  sane,  whimsi- 
cal, beautifull)  managed  in  the  difficult 
technical  leat  ol  blending  lire  spoken 
narration  and  the  music.  Cyril  Ritchard 
speaks  in  the  classic  way,  slightly  dry- 
toned,  with  an  amused  detachment;  his 
voice  is  amplified  and  large,  but  it  has 
been  skilllulK  located  straight  in  the 
centet  ol  the  orchestral  expanse  bclore 
you  and— somehow— is  quite  utter!)  na- 
tural though  you'll  have  trouble  figuring 
precisely  where  he  is  located,  in  a 
Strictly  spatial  sense!  He  is  with  the 
music,  and  yet  he  speaks  aside  from  it. 
The  familiar  music  is  done  with  taste 
and  sprightliness;  one  ol  Ormandy's 
remarkabl)  excellent  "warhorse"  jobs. 
I  he  orchestra  is  huge  and  astonishingly 
ual  and  big.  even  on  the  cheapest  and 
tinniest  stereo  player.  Columbia  may 
not  have  pioneered  stereo  but  clearly 
the  company  is  working  carefully  and 
solidly   in   the  new  medium. 

Bach:  Sonatas  #2  in  A.  #3  in  E  for 
Violin  and  Harpsichord.  Saschko  Gaw- 
riloff.  vl.,  Hans  Andreae,  tips.,  R.  Nette- 
koven,  cello  continuo,  Concert  Hall 
XH-54    (steieo   tape)  . 

Do  not  build  your  stereo  speakers  im- 
movably into  a  wall  if  you  intend  to 
enjoy  music  ol  this  sort,  which  is  in 
actual  dimensions  only  about  five  feet 
wide.  The  usual  ten-foot  speaker  spac 
ing  (excellent  for  orchestral  music)  puts 
the  harpsichord  far  to  the  right  an  ' 
stretches  the  violin  halfwa)  across  th 
room,  partly  in  one  speaker  and  parti 
in  the  other.  Move  the  speakers  closet 
together  and  the  effect  is  immediately! 
more  natural;  the  violin  stands  where 
he  belongs,  to  one  side  of  the  harpsi- 
chord. The  same  effect  is  likely  in  stereos 
ol  other  small  groups,  string  quartet, 
solo  piano,  folk  music,  and  some  jazz 
and  pops  recordings,  all  of  them  re- 
corded in  their  natural  placing  no  more 
than   lour  or  five  feet  wide. 

These  are  lovely  performances  of  the 
Bach    Sonatas,    in    a    somewhat    confus- 


YNEW... from  the  noted  gentlemen  below 


long  awaited  album  !  Leopold  Stokowski's  reading  of 
travinsky's  two  greatest  ballet  scores — The  Firebird  and 
'etrushka — may  well  become  the  classic  interpretation  of 
lese  popular  works.  The  Berlin  Philharmonic  again  dis- 
lays  its  ranking  as  one  of  the  world's  greatest  orchestras. 


'or  sheer  fun,  no  ballet  has  ever  matched  the  witty  exu- 
berance of  gaite  parisienne.  Here  is  the  entire  score  of 
Dffenbach's  classic  bit  of  drollery  performed  by  America's 
nost  popular  symphony  orchestra  conducted  by  Felix  Slatkin. 
?or  pure  sound,  this  recording  is  a  high  fidelity  showpiece. 


Other  New  Classical  Releases: 

beethoven  :  Appassionata,  Waldstein  Sonatas. 

Louis  Kentner,  piano.     PAO  8409 

brahms  concerto  in  d  major:  Yehudi  Menuhin,  violin. 

Berlin  Philharmonic.     PAO  8410 

duets  with  the  Spanish  cuitar:  Laurindo  Almeida,  guitar; 

Martin  Ruderman,  flute;  soprano  Salli  Terri.     PAO  8406 


the  sound  of  wagner  is  compounded  of  massive  tone,  of 
thunderous  power  and  force  and,  suddenly,  of  almost  in- 
expressible beauty.  In  short,  it  is  an  album  of  his  greatest 
orchestral  passages  conducted  with  brilliant  insight,  and 
fond  affection,  by  Vienna-born  Erich  Leinsdorf. 


melancholy  and  mirth  walk  side  by  side  in  Latin  America. 
Their  songs  tell  you  this — especially  when  sung  by  the 
world's  most  versatile  chorale.  This  album  is  a  tour  of  Latin 
America,  in  song.  Some  are  your  favorites  already — but 
many  more  will  be  when  you  hear  songs  of  latin  America. 


He's  always  satisfied  most  with 
a  BRAND  that's  made 
a  NAME  for  itself. 


"I  MADE  IT . . .  and  I  know  that  it  has 
to  be  made  well  and  priced  right  to  sell 
in  today's  highly  competitive  market.  If 
people  aren't  completely  satisfied  with 
my  product  and  the  service  it  gives  them, 
they'll  stop  buying  it — and,  of  course, 
my  business  will  suffer." 


"I  SOLD  IT  .  .  .  but  it's  made  such  a 
good  name  for  itself,  it  practically  sold 
itself.  My  customers  always  buy  well- 
known  brands  quicker,  with  more  con- 
fidence. And  if  they're  satisfied,  they 
often  reorder  by  phone  or  letter.  That 
makes  my  job  a  lot  easier,  too." 


"I  BOUGHT  IT ...  by  brand  because 
I  can't  risk  my  company's  money  on  pur- 
chases I'm  not  completely  sure  of.  Well- 
known  brands  always  offer  me  the  widest 
selections,  latest  improvements,  and  best 
possible  value.  I've  made  it  a  policy  to 
buy  only  brands  with  names  I  can  trust." 


THE  BRANDS  YOU  SEE  ADVERTISED  IN  THIS  MAGAZINE  ARE  NAMES  YOU  CAN  TRUST! 

They  stand  firmly  behind  every  product  and  claim  they  make. 
BRAND  NAMES  FOUNDATION,  INC.  •  437  FIFTH  AVENUE.  NEW  YORK   16,   N.  Y. 


CUSTOMER 


THE    NEW    RECORDING 

ingl)  live  hall  with  side-iodide  ichoej 
that  show  up  in  the  stereo  recording  ral 
thei  curiously-  the)  are  pleasing  oikJ 
\(iu  gel  used  to  them.  Ver\  high  level 
ling  with  some  distoi  tion— n<  i  | 

Prokofieff:  Symphony  r7.  PhilharmoniJ 
On  li  Malko.  RCA  Victor  DCS-H 
(steri  o    t;ipe). 

I  Ins  is  an  import  from  KiiiMi  I  \I 
and.  reportedly,  uses  the  new  and  spec 
i,  kuI.  ii  double-mike  technique  tha 
"sees"  the  entire  orchestra  from  a  cer 
n, il  poini  above  iis  center,  li  >n,  th 
effect  is  .in  natural  as  the  more  usua 
two-mike  or  three-mike  arrangemera 
with  the  pickup  in i ki  s  spread  out  acra 
the  hall  from  side  to  side.  The  lull  hal 
sense  is  here,  the  instruments  seer 
proper!)  spread  out,  left  to  right  an 
center.  I  he  recorded  sound  is  not  quit 
.is  i  lean,  in  this  issue,  as  that  in  th 
otliei  orchestral  recordings  here  r 
\  iewed,  perhaps  due  to  minor  differendj 
between  European  and  American  I 
cording   standards. 

A  warm,  simple,  eloquent  symphonl 
this  one.  thai  will  go  very  well  with  th 
"Classical"  il  you  know  no  other  Prok 
lull,  and  the  Philharmonia  plays  it  lo\ 
ingl)  and  with  reverence. 

Music    for  Hi-fi   P>ugs.    Pete  Rugulo 
His    Orch.      Mercur)     MDS3-1     (stere 
tape). 

Just  for  the  record,  this  one  must  repn 
sent  a  growing  collection  of  big-tiri 
"modern"  jazz  on  stereo  tape  thai  als 
includes  such  powerhouse  sound-makeS 
as  Stan  Kenton  (Capitol)  and  Saute 
Finnegan  (RCA)  .  This  one  is  indeed 
hi-fi  bug's  delight— but  legitimated 
The  sound  pickup  is  extraordinary,  wit 
the  quite  different  pops  technique  (u 
ing  complex  mike  settings)  that  adapj 
advanced  popular  recording  to  the  side 
to-side  stereo  medium.  Sharp,  edgy  bras 
about  three  inches  from  your  nose,  shin 
cymbal  sounds,  muted  solos,  all  in  a  va 
space,  all  sounding  ten  times  normj 
size,  the  whole  balanced  so  that  you' 
have  no  trouble  imagining  an  actui 
band  in  front  of  you— that's  big-ban 
stereo. 

Some  nl  this  music  is  just  snazzy  poj 
and  leaves  me  bored.  But  there  are 
Few  items  that  play  with  mtelleitua 
sounding  ideas,  out  of  the  classical  ir.o< 
em  (Hindemith,  Schoenberg)  in 
quite  dazzling  and  ver\  interesting  wa 
bhese  people  can  reall)  turn  on  a 
musical  language  when  the)  have 
mind  to.  II  we  sometimes  are  annoye 
with  the  sleazier  stuff  between,  we  mu 
keep  in  mind  that  economics,  il  nc 
economy,  dictate  the  form  of  music  i 
ihese  areas  and  it's  remarkable  that  eve 
some    ol     it    is    genuinely    progresshij 


ies  always  come  to 
ar  in  L "       " 

>nce  said. 

i  l|ely  enough,  we  have 
jtte  Lenya  to  record 
Bte  husband's  works, 
lin  the  Lenya-Weill 
Mahagonny"  heard 
ifirst  performance 
^Jazi  ban  in  Berlin  in 
|l  than  a  year  after  the 
f  To  recapture  th» 
It  flavor  of  this 
llof  freedom  — set  in  a 
me  that  resembles 
ran  town  during  the 
[—three  months  of 
w/ere  necessary. 

alny,"  as  most  of 
tsic,  has  much  of  the 
ne  jazz  bands  of  the 
I  melancholy  sighs  of 
mixed  with  the 
»f  a  fox  trot.  Lenya 's 
in  of  this  first 
nee  is  not  to  be 

Ll.:  MAHAGONNY 

3tte  lenya  as  Jenny, 
i  conducted  by 
iriickner-Riiggeberg. 
man  Radio  Chorus 
I  by  Max  Thurn. 
3  12")   $17.98 


SOUND  OF 


UNFINISHED 
REHEARSAL 

Last  spring  a  brilliant 
assemblage  of  artists  and  an 
army  of  music  lovers  met  in 
Puerto  Rico  for  the  8th 
consecutive  Casals  Festival. 
Suddenly,  while  conducting  the 
first  rehearsal,  Pablo  Casals 
suffered  a  heart  attack. 
Fortunately,  after  much 
consideration  it  was  decided 
to  go  on  with  the  Festival. 
Most  of  the  other  artists  were 
alumni  of  previous  Casals 
festivals.  Their  beautiful 
performances,  recorded  by 
Columbia,  give  evidence  of  how 
well  they  share  his  musical 
ideals.  Even  without  the 
dramatic  circumstances 
surrounding  this  rehearsal,  this 
recording  would  be  of 
exceptional  interest,  revealing 
the  informed  intensity  of 
Casals  towards  a  work  of  art. 
pablo  casals  conducts  a 
rehearsal  of  the  first  movement 
of  SCHUBERT'S  Symphony  No.  8; 
bach:  Capriccio 
—  Rudolf  Serkin,  Pianist;  , 
bach:  Suite  No.  1  in  C  Major- 
Alexander  Schneider,  Cond. 
ML  5236  $3.98 
mozart:  Quartet  No.  2 
—Isaac  Stern,  Violinist; 
Milton  Katims,  Violist; 
Mischa  Schneider,  Cellist; 
Eugene  Istomin,  Pianist. 
schubert:  Sonata  in  A  Minor- 
Alexander  Schneider, 
Violinist;  Mieczyslaw 
Horszowski,  Pianist. 
ML  5237   $3.98 


INCOMPARABLE 
STRINGS 

In  a  recent  review  of  a 
recording  by  the  Philadelphia 
Orchestra,  one  critic  half 
incredulously  observed  that  the 
famed  Philadelphia  strings  even 
trill  in  perfect  unison.  If  they 
have  somehow  accomplished 
this  feat  of  precision,  we  are 
not  in  the  least  surprised,  for 
in  the  nearly  seventy  years  of 
the  orchestra's  existence,  the 
string  section  has  been  shaped 
by  a  series  of  persistent 
conductors  into  the  perfect 
example  of  its  kind.  The 
Philadelphia's  newest  Columbia 
Record  is  highly  recommended 
as  a  way  of  discovering  this 
for  yourself  (if  you're  one  of 
the  few  music-lovers  who 
haven't  already  done  so).  There 
has  never  been  a  more 
sumptuous,  sublime-sounding 
"Unfinished,"  nor  a  more 
gossamer  and  shimmering 
"Midsummer  Night." 
schubert:  Symphony  No.  8  in 
B  Minor  ("Unfinished"); 
Mendelssohn:  Overture  and 
Incidental  Music  from  "A 
Midsummer  Night's  Dream"  — 
The  Philadelphia  Orchestra, 
Eugene  Ormandy,  Conductor. 
ML  5221   $3.98 


GENIUS  IS  ON 


GOULD'S 
BACH 

When  pianist  Glenn  Gould 
recorded  Bach's  "Goldberg" 
Variations  last  year,  he  brought 
with  him  to  the  studio  his  own 
special  chair,  each  leg  of  which 
can  be  adjusted  for  height. 
This  was  the  Goldberg  (Rube) 
variation  of  them  all.  Studio 
skeptics  thought  it  wackiness  of 
the  first  order  until  recording 
got  under  way.  Then  they  saw 
Glenn  adjust  the  slant  before 
doing  the  slightly  incredible 
cross-hand  passages.  The  chair 
was  unanimously  accepted  as 
a  splendid,  logical  device.  In 
that  session  Glenn  and  his 
chair  turned  out  an  album  of 
Bach  that  did  the  impossible: 
it  became  a  best  seller!  This 
fall  Glenn  returned  with  his 
chair  to  tackle  two  of  the  same 
composer's  partitas,  and  we 
miss  our  bet  if  we  haven't 
another  runaway  on  our  hands. 
bach:  Partitas  Nos.  5  in  G 
Major  and  6  in  E  Minor;  Fugue 
in  F  Sharp  Minor;  Fugue  in  E 
Major— Glenn  Gould,  pianist. 
ML  5186  $3.98 


MM 


10'"  ANNIVERSARY  OF 
LONG  PLAYING  RECORDS 
COLUMBIA  'RECORDS 


"LISTEN   IN 

DEPTH" 

ON  COLUMBIA 

PHONOGRAPHS 


RECORDS 

ADivision  of  CBSiVColumbia"(5(;<f»Marcas  Reg. 

Prices  are  suggested  list. 

Available  in  Canada  at  slightly  higher  prices. 


)  /   > 


f        H  "' 


1 


*K^</ 


...its  always  a  pleasure! 

|| 

\n  the  tighter,  milder  86  Proof 

or  in  TOO  Proof  Bottled  in  Bond 

Every  drop  of  the  milder  83  Proof  is  original  and  genuine 

I.  W.  Harper  — distilled  and  bottled  at  the  same  distillery  as 

the   famous  lOO  Proof  Bottled  in  Bond. 


_ — - 


BOTH    KENTUCKY    STRAIG 


KENTUCKY 

S'»A1CHT  BOU»B°N 

WHISKEY 


GOLD    M£0^ 


KENTUCKY 

SU«1CHI  BOUHB0" 

WHISKEY 


RPER    DISTILLING    COMPANY,    LOUISVILLE,    KENTUCKY 


MAKUH    lySB 


» 


ers 


-*:■'♦*<*<■  ; 


GEORGE  W.  GRAY 


■v'jOi 


NEW  DISCOVERIES 


About  the  Birth,  Life,  and  Death 
of  the  Sun  and  Other  Stars 


'>£$%£?' 


» Jj'r    "       ■■■  j 
•  >  J  »         - .  i  •« .   .  «■     ■  V 


**w 


I  / I  I,- 


HOW  CAN  THE  WEST  RECOVER? 

V 

WHO  IS  LYNDON  JOHNSON? 


George  F.  Kennan 
William  S.  White 


/UZtr  <u<6fo&b^ 


Europe,  a  treasure  house  for  sightseers,  also  provides  the  finest  of  fun, 
sports  and  entertainment  to  make  your  holiday  complete. 

Go  in  FALL,  WINTER  or  SPRING,  when  transportation 
and  accommodations  are  easier  to  obtain.  By  avoiding  the  peak 

crowds  of  summer,  you  can  really  see  Europe,  get  to  meet  her  friendly, 
interesting  people  and  shop  in  comfort  for  wonderful  buys.  Modern  transportat 
— both  sea  and  air — now  makes  it  possible  to  enjoy  Europe  even  within 
the  limits  of  a  three-week  vacation.  Plan  to  visit  Europe  soon! 

EUROPEAN   TRAVEL  COMMISSION 

AUSTRIA  •  BELGIUM  •  DENMARK  •  FINLAND  •  FRANCE  -  GERMANY  •  GREAT  BRITAIN 
GREECE  •  ICELAND  •  IRELAND  •  ITALY  •  LUXEMBOURG  •  MONACO  •  NETHERLANDS 
NORWAY   •   PORTUGAL  •   SPAIN   •   SWEDEN    •   SWITZERLAND   •   TURKEY   •   YUGOSLAVIA 


See  your  Travel  Agent  now!  For 
further  information,  write  each 
country  below  in  which  inter- 
ested. Address:  National  Tourist 
Office  (Name  of  Country),  Box 
258,Dept.L-2,  NewYorkH.N.Y 


ion 


•>|jeiuuaa  'uaSfcijuadoo  '..piewjaw  oiun..  *L  'spuetJ3LH9N  'ujepjaisiuv  'A*l!D  Pio  3M1  '9  'A'a^-ini  'inquejsi  'anbsoiAj  (anig)  iaiuu,v  uejins  'S 
Vueiujj  'auseo  euuuujAeiO  'P  "Ae/AJOM  'jaSuepJGH  io  waiA  £   eiAeisoSnx  'MSUAOjqna  jo  A\\o  paueM  Z  Jpuei8u3  'uopuoi  'pjeno  jo  SuiSueio  \ 


What   is  the   Bell   System? 


The  Bell  System  is  wires  and  cables  and 
laboratories  and  manufacturing  plants  and 
local  operating  companies  and  millions  of 
telephones  in  every  part  of  the  country. 

The  Bell  System  is  people  .  .  .  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  employees  and  more  than 
a  million  and  a  half  men  and  women  who 
have  invested  their  savings  in  the  business. 

It  is  more  than  that.  The  Bell  System 
is  an  idea. 

It  is  an  idea  that  starts  with  the  policy 
of  providing  the  best  possible  telephone 
service  at  the  lowest  possible  price. 

But  desire  is  not  enough.  Bright  dreams 
and  high  hopes  need  to  be  brought  to  earth 
and  made  to  work. 

You  could  have  all  the  equipment  and  still 
not  have  the  service  you  know  today. 

You  could  have  all  the  separate  parts  of 
the  Bell  System  and  not  have  the  benefits 
of  all  those  parts  fitted  together  in  a  nation- 
wide whole. 


BELL 
SYSTEM 


89' 


The  thing  that  makes  it  work  so  well  in 
your  behalf  is  the  way  the  Bell  System  is  set 
up  to  do  the  job. 

No  matter  whether  it  is  some  simple  mat- 
ter of  everyday  operation— or  the  great  skills 
necessary  to  invent  the  Transistor  or  develop 
underseas  telephone  cables  to  distant  coun- 
tries—the Bell  System  has  the  experience 
and  organization  to  get  it  done. 

And  an  attitude  and  spirit  of  service  that 
our  customers  have  come  to  know  as  a  most 
important  part  of  the  Bell  System  idea. 


Bell  Telephone  System 


II   V  RP  E  I!     S     I)  li  o  I   HERS 
PUBLISHERS 

Chairman  o]  the  Executive 
Committee:  casscani  ii  1 1> 

Chaii  mini  o\  the  Board: 

FRANK  S.  MACGREGOR 

President  and  Treasurer: 

RAYMOND  C.  HARWOOD 

Vu  i  Presidents: 

EDWARD   |.  I\  I  I  K,   |K.. 

1  I  i.i  \l    I  \\I  \V  ORDU  \\     I  I    ID, 

DANIJE I    I  .  BRADL1  \ 

tssistant  to  the  Publisher 

and  Circulation  Director: 
JOHN    JAY  HI  (.III  s 


K  D  I  T  O  R  I  A  L     STII    I 

Editor  in  Chief:    John  fischer 

Managing  Editor:  russell  lynes 

Editors: 

■CATHERINE    (.At  SS    JACKSON 

ERIC  I.ARRAHI  I 

CATHARINE  MEYER 

ANNE  G.  FREEDGOOO 

Editorial  Secretary:   rose  daly 
Editorial  Assistant: 

LUCV   DONA]  Iim>\ 


HariDer 


MAGA 


Z  I  N  E  ® 


MAKI   II     l'JJS 


vol.  216,  no.   129-1 


articles 

29     New  Discoveries  Aboi  i    iiu   Sun  and  Other  Stars, 
Part  I:  This  Hydrogen  Universe,  George  W.  Gia\ 

39     How  (  \\   mi    Wisi   Recover?   George  F.  Kennan 
Cartoon  by  Chon  Day 

48     Montana:   The  Frontier  Went   Thataway, 
Herbert  Howarth 
Drawings  by   Willard  Goodman 

53     Who  Is  Lyndon  Johnson?   William  S.  White 
Drawing  by  Robert  Osborn 

66     Tin    Dialogi  i  of  Frei  d  \\d  |i  ng,  Gerald  Sykes 

72     Father   Eugeni    and  the  Intelligenci    Services, 
\l(  \is  Ladas 
Drawings  by  M.  T.  Mindell 

78     Tin   Budapest  String  Quartet,  Mai  tin  .Mayer 
Drawings  by  (..  Huntei  Jones 

fiction 

59     C.i  mi  i  mi  \'s  Game,  H.  E.  F.  Donohue 
Drawings  by  Peggy  Lloyd 


ADVLII  I  ISINC    DATA:    Consult 

Harper-  \  ii  inth    Sali  s,  In<  . 

V)  East  33rd  Street,  New  York  16.  N.  Y. 

Telephon.    Ml  rra>   Hill  3-5225. 

ii  u.-ri  r's   m  m.  izine  issue  Eoi 

Mar.   1958.  Vol.  216.    Serial  No.  129-1. 

CopyrightC    1958  l>>  Harper  &  Brothers 

in  the  I  nited  States  and  Greal  Britain. 

All  rights,  including  translation  into 

other  languages,   reserved   b)    the 

Publisher   in   the   I  nited   States,   I 

Britain.  Mexico  and  all  countries 

participating    in    the    International 

Copyright  Convention  and  the 

Pan-American  Copyright  Convention. 

Published  monthly  by  Harper  & 

Brothers,  19  Easl  33d  St.,  New  York  16, 

N.Y.  Composed  and  [ > ■  inted  in  the  i  .s.  s. 

bj   union  labor  at  the  William-  Press, 

99-129  North  Broadway,  Albany,  N.  Y. 

Entered  as  second-class  mailer  at 

the  posl  office  al    Ubany.  N.  Y., 

undn   the  Act  of  March  3,  1879. 

-i  qsi  hum  n>\   ii  vtes:   iiDf   pei    copy  : 

$6.1 ne  year;  $11.00  two  years; 

$15.00   three    years.    Foreign    postage — 

except   Canada   and   Pan    America 

$1.50  per  year  additional. 

(  h  Inge  OF    wmiu  ss:    Six   wei  ks' 

advance   notice,   .>n<]   old   address  as 

well    as    new .    are    ne,  i 

Vddress  .ill  correspondence  relating 

to  subscriptions  !<■:  Subscription  Dept., 

19  East  33d  St.,  Nev,  York  16,  N.  Y. 


VERSE 

32     Dunce's  Song,  Mark  Van  Doren 

37      I  ni\  \(    ro  Univac,  Louis  B.  Solomon 
Drawings  by  Donald  Higgins 

57     Rural  Reflections,  Adrienne  Rich 

Si     For  a  Twenty-fh  iii  Birthday,  Thomas  Whitbread 

departments 

4     Letters 

14     The  Editor's  Easy  Chair— 

Forecast  for  a  Cheerful  Springtime 
[olm   Fischer 

24      Personal  &  Otherwise:   Among  Our  Contributors 

86     After  Hours,  Mr.  Harper  and  Henry  Hope  Reed  Jr. 
Drawings  by  N.  M.  Bodecker 

92     The  New  Books,  Paul  Pickre] 
104     Books  in  Brief,  Katherine  Gauss  fackson 
]08     The  New  Recordings,  Edward  Tatnall  Canby 
COVER  by  Burt  Goldblatt 


fjlie  01G7L  Victor  ^Society  of  Cjreat  EMwsic 

...  A  SENSIBLE  PLAN  TO  ENABLE  YOU  TO  BUILD 
A  BALANCED  RECORD  LIBRARY  UNDER  GUIDANCE 


*...il 


HOROWITZ 


RUBINSTEIN  ANDERSON 


Toscanini 

INDUCTING    THE    NBC    SYMPHONY     ORCHESTRA 

IN  AN  ALBUM  OF  SEVEN  12-INCH 
LONG-PLAYING  RECORDS  FOR 

$998 


THE  WORLD'S  GREATEST  MUSIC 

PERFORMED  BY 
WORLD-CELEBRATED  ARTISTS 

...  at  a  45%  saving  the  first  year  and  33V*%  thereafter 


. .  .  this  can  be  done  by  building  up  your  collection  system- 
atically, instead  of  haphazardly — and  always  with  the  help 
and  the   guidance  of   the  distinguished   panel    listed    below 


MOST  music-lovers,  in  the 
back  of  their  minds,  cer- 
tainly intend  to  build  up  for  them- 
selves a  representative  record  li- 
brary of  the  World's  Great  Music. 
Under  this  plan,  since  this  can  be 
done  systematically,  operating  costs 
can  be  greatly  reduced,  thus  permit- 
ting extraordinary  economies  for 
the  record  collector.  The  remark- 
able Introductory  Offer  at  the  left 
is  a  dramatic  demonstration.  It  rep- 
resents a  45%  saving  the  first  year. 
>)c   Thereafter,  continuing  members 


can  build  their  record  library  at 
almost  a  ONE-THIRD  SAVING.  For 
every  two  records  purchased  (from 
a  group  of  at  least  fifty  made  avail- 
able annually  by  the  Society) 
members  will  receive  a  third  rca 
Victor  Tied  Seal  Record  free. 
s(c  A  cardinal  feature  of  the  plan  is 
GUIDANCE.  The  Society  has  a  Se- 
lection Panel  whose  sole  function 
is  to  recommend  "must-have" 
works  that  should  be  included  in 
any  well-balanced  library.  Mem- 
bers of  the  panel  are  as  follows: 


DEEMS  TAYLOR,  composer  and  commentator,  Chairman 

SAMUEL  CHOTZINOFF,  General  Music  Director,  nbc 

JACQUES  BARZUN,  author  and  music  critic 

JOHN  M.  CONLY,  editor  of  High  fidelity 

AARON  COPLAND,  composer 

ALFRED   FRANKENSTEIN,   music  critic  of  San  7rancisco    Chronicle 

DOUGLAS  MOORE,  composer  and  Professor  of  Music,  Columbia  University 

WILLIAM  SCHUMAN,  composer  and  president  of  Juilliard  School  of  Music 

CARLETON  SPRAGUE  SMITH,  chief  of  Music  Division,  N.  Y.  Public  Library 

G.  WALLACE  WOODWORTH,  Professor  of  Music,   Harvard  University 

HOW  THE  SOCIETY  OPERATES 


Each  month,  three  or  more  rca 
Victor  Red  Seal  Records  will 
be  announced  to  members.  One 
will  always  be  singled  out  as  the 
record-oj-the-tnonlh,  and  unless 
the  Society  is  otherwise  instructed 
(on  a  simple  form  always  pro- 
vided), this  record  will  be  sent  to 


the  member.  If  the  member  does 
not  want  the  work  he  may  specify 
an  alternate,  or  instruct  the  Society 
to  send  him  nothing.  For  every  rec- 
ord purchased,  members  will  pay 
$4.98,  the  nationally  advertised  price 
of  rca  Victor  Red  Seal  Records 
(plus  a  small  charge  for  mailing). 


398 


(plus  a  small  charge  for  postage) 


Mationally  advertised  price:  $34.98 


'■  SOLE  CONDITION  IS  THAT  BEGIN- 
4G  MEMBERS  AGREE  TO  BUY  SIX  RCA 
TOR  RED  SEAL  RECORDS  FROM  THE 
OCIETY   DURING   THE    NEXT   YEAR 


RCA  VICTOR  Society  of  Great  Music 

c/o  Book-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc. 

345  Hudson  Street,  New  York   14,  N.  Y. 

Please  register  me  as  a  member  and  send 
me  the  seven-record  Toscanini-Beetko- 
ven  Album  under  the  conditions  stated 
at  the  left  and  above,  billing  me  $3.98, 
plus  postage.  I  agree  to  buy  six  addi- 
tional records  within  twelve  months 
from  the  Society.  Thereafter,  if  I  con- 
tinue, for  every  two  records  I  purchase 
from  the  Society,  I  will  receive  a  third 
rca  Victor  record,  free.  To  maintain 
membership  after  the  first  year,  I  need 
buy  only  four  records  from  the  Society 
in  any   12-month  period. 


MR.        ) 

MRS.     J. 
MISS     ) 

ADDRESS 

print  plainly) 


BRAILOWSKY 


LANDOWSKA 


MUNCH 


REINER 


MONTEUX 


V3-3 


city ''>^r... 


zed    RCA     VICTOR    dealer 


nil    through 


..STATE.. 
author- 


DEALER'S     NAME 


CITY  ZONE 


CHOICE  OF  ALL 

Europe 


8    exciting    lands, 
4   popular   ships 


•  NORTH    ATLANTIC 

15  new  public  rooms  on  the  "NEW 
york"  .  .  .  same  fine  tourist  service  on 
the  "COLUMBIA"  and  "ARCADIA",  latest 
addition  to  the  Greek  Line  fleet.  From 
New  York,  Boston,  Canada  to 

IRELAND  •  ENGLAND  •  FRANCE  •  GERMANY 


•  MEDITERRANEAN 

Cruise  liner  "olympia",  16  public- 
rooms,  many  2  berth  staterooms  with 
private  shower  and  toilet  at  low  Tourist 
rates,  from  New  York,  Boston  to 

PORTUGAL   •    ITALY    •   SICILY    •   GREECE 

See  Your  Travel  Agt  tit 


Go    One    Rouie    .    .    .    Return    the    Other    by 

GREEK  LINE 

N  I  \Y     YORK     •     BOSTON     •    CLEVELAND 

CHICAGO    •    LOS     VNGELES    •    SAN    FRANCISCO 

TORONTO    •    MONTREAL 


LETTERS 


About  Mr.  Nixon 

To    i  in     I  in  iors: 

William  S.  White's  "Nixon:  What 
Kind  ol  President?"  [January]  forcefully 
depicts  Mr.  Nixon  as  a  Machiavellian 
opportunist.  What  disturbs  me  i^  the 
implication  lefl  b)  Mr.  White  that  such 
a  man  might  become  a  fine  leadei  ol 
mn   nation.  .  .  . 

I  In  most  disturbing  statement  ol 
Mr.  White's  was:  "Parenthetically, 
N'ixon's  activities  in  the  Hiss  investiga- 
tion seemed  to  me  and  to  mam  who 
are  in  no  sense  apologists  for  excesses 
in  these  matters  to  be  quit*  proper 
and   within   the   rules  ol    the   game." 

Mr.  \i\on\  role  in  the  lli-s  case  left 
nun  It  to  be  desired.  I  It  a<  t<  d  as  a  one- 
man  judge,  jury,  prosecutor,  plaintiff, 
witness,  detective,  and  puss  agent  and 
was  amazingly  clairvoyant  in  his  -hi 
nouncement  thai  lliss  was  guilt)  ol 
"Communist  espionage  activities"  three 
months  before  such  testimony  or  the 
typewritten  documents  which  seemed  to 
support   it   wen     off(  red.    .    .    . 

Lawrence  E.  McGi  ri  v 
Memphis,  Trim. 

Congratulations  on  the  Nixon  article. 
.  .  .  Nixon  is  one  ol  our  big  assets— 
because  he  is  young,  because  he  lias  lived 
most  ol  his  life  in  a  world  in  which 
totalitarianism  is  the  most  dynamic 
entity,  because  he  cannot  expect  to  be 
safer)  dead  before  Communism  can  take 
over,  and.  above  all.  because  he  has 
had  experience  in  the  hoi  seat  ol  re- 
sponsibility. This  is  the  man  who  ought 
to  be  leading  America— right  now.  .  .  . 
Alfred  B.  M  won 
Concord,    Calif. 

.  .  .  Richard  Nixon  is  something  ol  a 
Joseph  McCarthy,  although  he  dresses 
much  better  than  McCarthy  ever  did. 
.  .  .  He  and  his  gang  are  trying  to  lead 
American  public  opinion  astray.  We 
need  to  right  ourselves  in  matters  of 
economics,  and  1  do  not  think  that 
Nixon  has  been  trying  to  do  that.  He 
lias  always  been  entangling  himsell  in 
all  kinds  ol  political  matters,  f  do  not 
know  ol  an  issue  in  which  he  lias  come 
straight  out  lm  the  average  American 
citizen.  ...  II  we  can  keep  President 
1  isenhower  working  foi  the  people, 
things  will  be  good:  il  not,  things  will 
be-  bad.  Charles  W.  Shepard 

Atlanta.    Ga. 


Your  article  on  Nixon  i^  no  credi 
in  you)    \i  i\   it  *pi  1 1«  (I   joui  n. d. 

Ii  is  axiomatic  that  a  leopard  <anin 
change  hi^  spots,  and  w<  should  m 
expect  as  much  ol   Richard   Nixon.  .  . 

His  voting  record  in  the  lion 
clearl)  aligned  him  with  the  big-businc 
and  reactionary  interests  ol  the  nation 
Hi  ha^  been  theii  darling  evei  him 
His  n  ci  nt  i onversion  to  an  inter* 
in  civil  rights  is  a  chameleon  (Hon  i 
embarrass  the  Democrats.  While  sittii 
in  legislative  seats  he  nevei  manifest! 
any  interest  in  progressive  legislatiol 
i  xi  i  pi    to    vote    against    it. 

His  campaign  lure  in  California 
1950  .  .  .  was  the  all-time  low  in  p 
litiial  skulduggery.  No  tiiik  was  tc 
dishonest,  no  falsehood  too  contema 
l.li  to  spread  to  defeai  an  opponei 
The  reactionary  tycoons  who  conffl 
California  politics  poured  out  nion' 
without  stint  to  place  Nixon  in  t: 
Si  ii. m .  lb  w  as,  and  is.  the  pet 
the  reactionary  Los  Angeles  Times  ,n 
the   Hearst   press.  .  .  . 

Some  of  your  readers  do  not  hai 
sin  h  short  memories  as  Mr.  Whit 
article  supposes. 

Lee  L.  Stopi 
Santa    Rosa.    Ca! 

or  Eh 


To  the  Editors: 

Thanks  to  fames  and  \nnette  1>. 
ter's  reductio  ad  absurdum  of  liter; 
and  sociological  jargon  in  [their]  an; 
sis  ol  one  Elvis  Presle)  ["The  Man 
the  Blue  Suede  Shoes,"  January], 
shall  leel  ever  grateful  to  the  1 
sueded    bard. 

For  years  we  have  awaited  the  ti 
when  the  "units,"  new,  old,  liter, 
social,  and  otherwise  would  br< 
through  the  excrescences  <>l  -clf-coii 
ambiguities.  Now  that  the  Presle) 
iron)  has  been  fully  explored  in 
noble  a  literary  institution  as  Harpt 
we  feel  a  profound  sense  ol  rel 
Surely  a  new  era  of  critical  brillia 
is  at  hand. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  A.  B.  LefcouI 
Boston.    M 

As  a  teen-ager,  I  would  like  to  th;| 
you    for   your   article    on    This    Presi 
It    presented    a    ran.    genuinely    intl 
gent    analysis    ol     Elvis    to    the    pul 
This    Presley   represents    an    outlet 
independence  to  the  teen-ager  of  tod 
His    music     is    new,    different,    and 
joyable    to    adolescents    and    to    mat 


IFOR  SELF -APPRAISAL. 

Have  you  reflected  on 
|  your  reading  lately  ? 

WHICH  OF  THESE  BOOKS  HAVE  YOU  INTENDED  TO  READ 
...  AND  NEVER  "GOT  AROUND  TO"? 


BY   LOVE  POSSESSED 

by  James  Gould  Cozzens 


The  imCiCje  of  yourself  reflected  here  may  reveal  a  sobering  fact: 
the  extreme  degree  to  which  you  have  allowed  the  irritating  busyness 
of  your  life  to  keep  you  from  the  books  you  promise  yourself  to  read. 
There  is  a  simple  way  to  break  this  bad  habit,  and  many  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  perspicacious  readers  over  the  country— like  yourself— will 
vouch  for  its  effectiveness:  membership  in  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club. 
The  books  you  want  to  read  are— usually— Club  Selections  or  Alter- 
nates. As  a  member  yon  will  pay  20%  less  for  them,  on  the  average, 
than  you  otherwise  would.  And,  in  addition,  you  will  share  in  more 
than  $13,000,000  worth  of  free  books  (retail  value)  now  distributed 
annually  as  Book-Dividends.  This  is  actually  a  form  of  member  profit- 
sharing.  The  offer  outlined  below  really  represents  "advanced"  Book- 
Dividends  earned  by  the  purchase  of  the  books  you  engage  to  buy  later. 


*fc  The  books  you  agree  to  buy 
ater  can  be  chosen  from  approx- 
imately 200  Club  Selections  and 
\lternates  made  available  during 
he  year. 

'r-  Each  month  you  receive  a 
ull  and  careful  report  about  the 
iext  Book-of-the-Month.  If  you 
udge  it  is  a  book 


enjoy,  you  may  send  back  a  form 
(always  provided)  specifying 
some  other  book.  Or  you  may 
simply  say,  "Send  me  nothing." 

sjc  If  you  continue  after  this  trial, 
you  will  receive  a  Book-Divi- 
dend, averaging  around  $7  in 
retail  value,  with  every  second 
book  you  bi 


THE  NEW  CLASS 

by  Mitotan  Djilas 

BELOW  THE   SALT 

by  Thomas  B.  Co  stain 

THE  SCAPEGOAT 

by  Daphne  du  Marnier 

THE  FBI  STORY 

by   Don    Whitehead 

LETTER  FROM  PEKING 

by  Pearl  S.  Buck 

ANATOMY  OF  A  MURDER 

by  Robert  Trarer 

THE  BIRTH  OF  BRITAIN 

by  Winston  S. 
Churchill 

THE  NEW  WORLD 

by  Winston  S. 
Churchill 

THE  AGE  OF  REVOLUTION 

'-"  Winston  S. 
Churchill 

A  STUDY  OF  HISTORY 

The  two-volume 

abridgement  of  the 

Toynbee   work 

READING  FOR  PLEASURE 

by  Bennett  Cerf 

THIS  HALLOWED  GROUND 

by  Bruce  Cation 

MR.  BARUCH 

i  by  Margaret  L.  Coit 

I     THE  DEAD  SEA  SCROLLS 

1  by  Millar  Burrows 

\\  THE  NUN'S  STORY 

\\        by  Kathryn  Hulme 


GUARD  OF  HONOR 

James  Could  Cozzens 

THE  JUST  AND  THE 
UNJUST 

by  James  Gould  Cozzens 

ALARMS  AND  DIVERSIONS 

by  James  Thitrber 

PROFILES  IN  COURAGE 

by  John  F.  Kennedy 

SPRING  ON  AN   ARCTIC 
ISLAND 

by  Katharine  Scherman 

"WHERE  DID  YOU  GO?" 
"OUT."  "WHAT  DID  YOU 
DO?"  "NOTHING." 

by  Robert  Paul  Smith 

PLEASE  DON'T  EAT 
THE  DAISIES 

by  Jean  Kerr 

THE  RETURN  OF 
LADY  BRACE 

by  Nancy  Wilson  Ross 

A  CUP  OF  TEA  FOR 

MR.  THORGILL 

by  Storm  Jameson 

THE  LAST  ANGRY  MAN 

by  Gerald  Green 

THE  SHORT  REIGN  OF 
PIPPIN   IV 

by  John  Steinbeck  J 

THE  CRISIS  OF  THE  I 

OLD  ORDER  J 

by  Arthur  M.  , 7 

Schlesinger,  Jr.  j  ! 


NUCLEAR  WEAPONS  AND  FOREIGN  POLICY      I 

by  Henry  A.  Kissinger  Jj, 


w 


A  33 


BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH    CLUB,    Inc. 

345   Hudson  Street.    New  York   14,   N.   Y. 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  member  of  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club* 
and  send,  free,  the  work  I  have  indicated  below  with  the  purchase 
of  my  first   selection,    also   indicated.    I  agree  to  purchase  at  least 

five    additional     monthly     Selections or    Alternates — during    the 

first  year  I  am  a  member.  Thereafter  I  need  buy  only  four  such 
books  In  any  twelve-month  period  to  maintain  membership.  I 
have  the  right  to  cancel  mv  membership  any  time  after  buying  six 
Club  choices.  After  my  sixth  purchase  if  I  continue  I  am  to  re- 
ceive a  Book-Dividend*  with  every  second  Selection or  Alternate 

1   buy.    The    price    to    be   charged    for   each    book    will    never   be 

more  than  the  publisher's  price,  and  frequently  less.  (A  small 
charge  Is  added  to  cover  postage  and  mailing  expenses.) 
PLEASE  NOTE:  A  "Double  Selection" — or  a  set  of  books  offered  to 
members  at  a  special  combined  price — Is  counted  as  a  shrolc  '<<<>/.-  in 
reckoning  Book-Dividend  credit,  and  in  fulfilling  the  membership 
obligation. 

PLEASE  SEND  ME   AS  MY   FREE  WORK  OR  SET 


(Choose  one  of  Hie  reference  works  or  scls  Illustrated  al    left) 
PLEASE   SEND   ME  AS    MY    FIRST    PURCHASE 


(Choose  one  of  the  titles  listed  above) 
(Please  print  plainly) 


THE  NEW  ILLUSTRATED   EDITION 

DF  THE  COLUMBIA  ENCYCLOPEDIA 

2302  pages    •    Thumb  indexed 

RETAIL  PRICE    $35.00 

THE  OXFORD  UNIVERSAL 

OICTIONARY     2616  na„c, 

RETAIL   PRICE    $25.00 


THE    WORLD   OF   MATHEMATICS 

Fourvols.  RETAIL  PRICE  $25.00 

CHURCHILL'S  THE  SECOND 
WORLD  WAR 

All  six  volumes  of  Sir  Winston's 

epic  history        retail  price 

(if  bouyht  separately)  $39.00 


..Zone  No State.. 


SANDBURG'S  ABRAHAM   LINCOLN 
—THE    WAR   YEARS     Fourvols. 

retail  price   $36.00 


Books  fer  Canadian  members  arc  priced  slightly  higher,  are 

shipped    from    Toronto    duhi   free,    and    may   be   paid    for    In 

ellhcr  U.S.    or  Canadian   currency. 


^Trademark  Reg.  V.  S.  Pal.  Off. 
and  in  Canada 


I 


PORTS 


SHERRIES 


SANDEMAN 

ESTABLISHED    IN   THE    YEAR    1790 

Imported  by  W.  A.  TAYLOR  &  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y.  Sole  Distributors  tor  the  U.  S.  A. 


To  enjoy  the  full  beauty  of  Spring 


CAPRI  —  1    FARAGLION1 


Watch  the  miracle  of  another  Spring  transforming  the  golden  countryside  throughout 
this  lovely  land  .  .  .  ushering  in  a  colorful  new  season  of  activities  and  events  .  .  .  welcoming 
you  to  fascinating  cities  and  towns  where  historic  centuries  live  on  in  art  and  architecture. 
Today's  Family  Plan  transatlantic  fares  make  your  trip  cost  less  than  ever.  Also  the 

INCLUSIVE  TOURS 

sold  only  through  Travel  Agents,  make  available  special  reduced  rates  for  transatlantic 

transportation. 
Air  travel  in  Italy  and  luxurious  motor  coach  tours  are  surprisingly  inexpensive  .  .   . 
15  and  30-day  rail  tickets  provide  unlimited  travel  .  .  .  and  if  you  take  your  own  car. 
special  coupons  provide  gasoline  at  reduced  costs.  Italy  offers  you  the  best  of  everything 
.  .  .fine  hotels,  wonderful  food,  incredible  shopping  bargains.  See  your  Travel  Agent  now! 

IF  YOU  VISIT  ITALY  BEFORE  MARCH  15 

you  11  save  10%  to  20%  more  with  the  Italian 
Tourist  Economy  Plan.  Sold  only  through  Travel 
Agents  here  in  the  United  States. 


emit   ITALIAN   STATE  TOURIST   OFFICE  — E.  N.  I.  T. 


mil 


21  East  51st  Street,  New  York  22,  N.  Y. 


CHICAGO— 333  N.  Michigan  Ave.  NEW  ORLEANS— International  Trade  Mart 

SAN  FRANCISCO— St.  Francis  Hotel 


LETTERS 

men  and  women  who,  as  youi  authors 
v,i\,  have  not  run  out  ol  imagination, 
I  he  time  has  come  foi  .ill  people  to 
accept  Elvis  and  1 1 i-.  music  .is  a  phase 
in  the  evei  changing  popular  music  held. 
Nam  y  Hi  hi  Pn  hi. 
Washington,  I)    C. 

Some  passages  in  the  Baxters'  defense 
ol  Elvis  Presley  cause  one  to  think 
helplessly  ol  the  art  ol  another  singing 
animal.  Surely  nobody  ever  within  car- 
shot   nl    ;i    jackass   has  failed   to   notice:! 

"Vocal  pyrotechnics  he  lias  indeed  .  .  . 
but  they  would  remain  merely  curiosl 
lies  urn  he  inn  able  to  manipulate 
them  into  an  organic  whole.  His  twist- 
ing ol  a  tonal  quality  possesses  a  dia-i 
bolical  inevitability,  and  his  phrasing 
is  as  Maw  less  as  it   is  intra  ate." 

Rtii)    HyndsI 
Monte  Vista.  Col. 


Floreat  Florian 

To  the  Editors: 

"Conversation     at     Midnight"     [  |  lie 

Editor's  Easy  Chair.  January]  is  the 
finest,  most  compact  statement  ol  what! 
is  wrong  with  the  United  States  which 
I  have  seen.  I  am  not  convinced  that 
the  root  is  idealism,  as  Father  Florian 
States,  but  the  liuils  are  all  too  appaient 
to  anyone  who  will  open  his  eyes.  .  .  I 

Don   Marti 
Sacramento,    Calif 

How  Iron  the  Corset?; 

To  the  Editors: 

Permit  an  old  fogy's  footnote  to  Mai 
tin  Green's  "The  Iron  Corset  on  Br 
tain's  Spirit"  [January].  There  is  mud 
more  in  the  past  and  present  of  tin 
British   spirit   than    he   indicates. 

When  in  1907  at  thirteen  years  of  ag 
I  left  a  British  village  grade  school  fo 
work  in  the  coal  mines,  I  shared 
the  tremendous  self-education  ol  th 
active  groups  in  unionism  and  politics 
out  of  which  grew  the  British  Labo 
party.  Mr.  Green's  dictum,  "There  hav< 
never  been  any  working-c  lass  writer 
in  England,"  ignores,  lor  example 
Richard  Tressall,  the  widely  read  hous 
painter  (Ragged  Trousered  Philartthrc 
pists,  Richards,   1914).  .  .  . 

Writing  over  forty  years  ago  a  prime 
on  British  labor  history,  I  could  rele 
worker-students  to  the  poems  of  Shelle 
("Rise  Like  Lions,"  etc.).  Hood  ("Th 
Song  of  the  Shirt")  .  Elizabeth  Browi 
ing  ("Cry  of  the  Children")  ,  and  t 
the-  novels  ol  Dickens  (Hard  Times) 
Kingsley  (Alton  Locke),  William  Moij 
ris  (Dream  oj  John  Hull  and  Net 
from  Nowhere) . 

flue,    as    Mi.    Green    suggests,    the 


I  ; 

Hi 


Exclusive 


^jp- 


<#*** 


I  i  * 

^^Marboro  Book  Club 


*  The  Most  Talked 

about  Book  of  the  Year 

By  exclusive  arrangement  with  Romain  Gary's  publishers  in  Paris  and 
New  York,  THE  HOOTS  OP  HEAVEN  has  been  designated  as  a  selection 
of  the  MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB.  "With  its  torrent  of  ideas,  it  is  a  truly 
remarkable  feat.  It  will  prove  the  most  intellectually  stimulating  novel  of 
1308" — N.  Y.  Times  Book  Review. 


You  can  have  any  O  of     $^75 
the  books  shown  for  only  vJ""ip 

Cjhoose  from  THE  ROOTS  OF  HEAVEN-THE  LIVING  PAST- 
OF  LOVE  AND  LUST-MASS  CULTURE-and  eight  other  important 
books  as  your  introduction  to  membership  in  the  MARBORO  BOOK 
CLUB. 

Out  of  France,  where  it  received  the  coveted  Prix  Goncourt,  comes  a 
brilliant  novel  of  Africa  that  has  almost  overnight  become  the  most- 
discussed  book  of  the  year.  The  rave  reviews  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 
help  explain  why:  "An  astonishing  book,  destined  for  wide  fame."— Le 
Figaro.  "It  is  impossible  to  remain  unmoved  by  this  African  fresco  which 
presents  men  of  uncommon  stature  against  a  background  of  brutality." 
— La  Croix.  "One  of  the  most  important  books  in  years."— De main. 
"Brilliant.  Great  originality.  Flashing  with  comedy  and  sumptuous  in  its 
pictorial  imagery.  A  major  modern  novel."— Newsweek.  "One  of  the  best 
narratives  to  be  published  in  a  long  time."—  Time. 

This  novel  of  adventure  and  intrigue  (which  incidentally  gives  to  the 
African  elephant  a  place  of  significance  in  world  literature  equalled  only 
by  that  given  to  the  whale  by  Moby  Dick)  was  written  by  a  man  of 
action  who  is  also  a  novelist  of  genius  and  a  distinguished  French  diplo- 
mat. As  anyone  who  has  read  the  roots  of  heaven  can  tell  you,  it  is  well 
worth  every  penny  of  its  $4.50  bookstore  price. 

To  demonstrate  the  values  that  discerning  readers  can  expect  from  the 
MARBORO  book  club,  we  offer  you  any  3  books  on  this  page  (including 
the  roots  OF  heaven,  if  you  wish)  for  only  a  fraction  of  what  you  would 
ordinarily  pay  for  the  roots  of  heaven  alone. 

the  marboro  BOOK  club  pools  your  buying  power  with  that  of  others  who 
share  your  tastes,  and  saves  you  an  average  of  50%  on  the  self-same 
books  you  would  otherwise  purchase  at  full  price.  With  each  four  selec- 
tions (or  alternates)  accepted  at  Special  Members'  Prices,  you  receive 
a  superlative  bonus  volume  of  your  choice  at  no  additional  charge. 
Reach  for  a  pencil  right  now  and  check  off  any  three  of  the  books  shown. 
They're  yours  for  only  $3.75  with  an  introductory  membership  in  the 
marboro  book  club.  That's  a  saving  of  as  much  as  $20.00  on  regular 
bookstore  prices.  Mail  the  application  form  today,  while  this  exclusive 
offer  lasts. 


Choose  any  3  of  these  books  for  $3.75  with  Introductory  Membership  in  the  MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB!  Mail  your  application  today. 


□  THE  ROOTS  OF  HEAVEN.  By 
Romain  Gary.  "Seldom  lias  a  book 
of  adventure  been  raised  to  such  an 
almost  legendary  level.  Make  no 
mistake  about  it:  this  is  a  book  that 
will  keep  us  company  for  a  long, 
long  time." — Andre  Malraux 

List  Price  $4.50 

□  THE  LIVING  PAST.  By  Ivar  Lissner. 
Brings  triumphantly  to  life  the  great 
discoveries  of  archaeology,  anthro- 
pology, and  comparative  religion. 
508  pages,  including  04  pp.  of  fabu- 
lous photographs  —  sculpture,  idols, 
architecture,  costumes.  &  other  treas- 
ures of  antiquity.       Lisl  Price  $5.95 

□  OF  IOVE  AND  LUST.  By  Theodor 
Eeik.  Freud's  most  famous  pupil 
analyzes  the  hidden  nature  of  mas- 
culinity and  femininity,  normal  and 
perverse,  in  romantic  love,  in  mar- 
riage, parenthood,  bachelorhood,  and 
splnsterhood.  List  Price  $7.50 

□  LAST  TALES.  By  Isak  Dinesen. 
Twelve  new  tales  of  compelling 
beauty  and  enchantment  by  the  author 
of  Seven  Gothic  Tales.  "A  touch 
that's  magic  .  .  .  Pure  delight."  — 
N.  Y.  Times  Lis!  Price  $4.00 


a  SELECTED  WRITINGS  OF  JUAN 
RAMON  JIMENEZ.  First  representa- 
tive cross-section  of  prose  and  poems 
by  the  1950  Nobel  Prize  Winner,  in- 
cluding writings  never  before  pub- 
lished in  book  form.  List  Price  $4.75 

□  MASS  CULTURE.  Ed.  by  Rosenberg 
&  White.  Monumental,  wickedly  re- 
vealing portrait  of  the  "Lonely 
Crowd"  at  play.  David  Riesman. 
Edmund  Wilson,  Dwtght  MacDonald 
and  other  distinguished  scholars  de- 
scend upon  the  "popular"  arts  with 
diabolical   zest.  List  Price  $6.50 

O  KLEE.  By  Gualtierei  di  San  Lazzaro. 
Paul  Klee's  greatest  "one-man  show" 
— a  triumphant  summary  of  the  life 
and  work  of  this  Einstein  among 
painters,  with  300  reproductions  of 
his  most  famous  and  enigmatic  works, 
including  80  full  color  plates. 

List  Price  $5.75 

D  RELIGION  AND  THE  REBEL.  By 
Colin  Wilson,  author  of  The  Out- 
sider. "The  idea  behind  it  is  one  of 
the  most  important  in  the  thought  of 
our  time,  the  most  effective  challenge 
lo  materialistic  philosophy  yet  con- 
ceived."—N.  Y.  Times. 

Lisl  Price  $4.00 


□  THE  DEATH  AND  REBIRTH  OF 
PSYCHOLOGY.  By  Ira  ProgolT. 
An  integrative  evaluation  of  Freud, 
Adler.  Jung  and  Rank  and  the  im- 
pact of  their  culminating  insights 
on  modern  man.       List  Price  $4.00 

a  BEING  AND  NOTHINGNESS.  By 
Jean-Paul  Sartre.  Sartre's  Piiiloso- 
phy  of  Being,  including  his  views  on 
social  relations,  his  doctrine  of  free- 
dom, and  existential  psychoanalysis. 
635  pages.  List  Price  $10.00 

D  MAKERS  OF  THE  MODERN  WORLD. 
By  Louis  Untermeyer.  800-page  en- 
cyclopedia of  the  02  men  and  women 
who  created  the  thought  and  taste 
of  ourtime — from  Proust  to  Einstein, 
Roosevelt  &  Stravinsky.  The  modern 
Plutarch's  Lives.      List  Price  id. 50 


NEW  OUTLINE  OF  MODERN 
KNOWLEDGE.  Ed.  by  Alan  Pryce- 
.Tones.  A  liberal  education  in  one 
giant  020-page  volume  covering  the 
full  range  of  modern  knowledge  from 
atomic  physics  to  psychiatry. 

Lisl   Price    $6.00 


MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB 

222  Fourth  Avenue,  New  York  3,  N.  Y. 

Yoo  may  enroll  me  as  a  new  member  of  the  Marboro 
Book  Club.  Please  send  me  the  THRIVE  books  checked 
at  the  left  at  only  %'i.l'i  plus  shipping  for  all  three. 
Forthcoming  selections  ami  alternates  will  be  described 
to  me  in  a  Monthly  Advance  Bulletin  and  I  may  decline 
any  book  simply  by  returning  the  printed  form  always 
provided.  I  agree  to  buy  as  few  as  four  additional 
books  (or  alternates)  at  the  reduced  Member's  Price 
during  the  next  twelve  months;  and  I  may  resign  at  any 
time  thereafter.  1  will  receive  a  free  BONUS  BOOK 
for  every  tour  additional  books  I  accept. 

SEND   NO   MONEY   NOW 


CITY. 


_ZONE STATE. 


(Memberships  available  only  in  continental  U.  S.  and 
Canada.  Pi-ices  slightly  //ir/lier  in  Canada.)  MlC-Or,; 
GUARANTEE:  If  you  arc  not  completely  satisfied  with 
this  SPECIAL  OFFER,  you  may  return  the  books 
within  7  days  and  your  membership  will  be  cancelled. 


"La  Qucbrada"  Acapuko  Mexico. 

ACAPVLCO 

the  world  famous  seashore  resort 
of  enthralling,  unforgettable  and 
mysterious  beauty,  where  nature 
stands  forth  in  singular  magnificence. 
Rugged  cliffs,  snow  -  white  beaches 
surrounded  by  exotic  tropical  vegetation. 
Here  you  can  enjoy  unexcelled  surf-bathing, 
boating  and  exciting  deepsea  fishing. 
Splendid  hotels,  incomparable  sunsets  and 
dancing  under  starry  skies. 

You'll  be  really  happy  vacationing  in  Mexico. 

MEXICO  awaits  you.     Your  travel  agent  will  tell  you. 

MEXICAN   GOVERNMENT  TOURIST  BUREAU 


LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  3106  Wilshire  Blvd. 

CHICAGO  ILLINOIS  27  E.  Monrot  Stceel  Suite  No  304 

HOUSTON,  TEXAS  »09  Walker  Ave- 

MitMi   nrmiDA  45  Columbus  Arcade 

Tw  ORLEANS  LOUISIANA  203  St.  Charles  Street 


NEW  YORK,  N.  Y.  630  Fifth  Ave  No.  801    Rockefeller  Center 
SAN  ANTONIO.  TEXAS  209  E  - JM  SM 

MONTREAL,  CANADA  1255  Phillips  Square  *'£*>■** 

TORONTO,  CANADA  20  Carlton  siren 

LA  HABANA,  CUBA       Calle  23,  No.  72  •  La  Rampa,  Vedado. 


LETTERS 

were  1 1<  >i  working-class  writers  by  si  .it  us, 
but  the  sympathetic  insight  <>l  their 
writings  was  a  factoi  in  social  change! 
Dickens  as  .1  boy  certainly  worked  hard 
lot  little  |>.i\  in  .1  blacking  factors 
Thomas  Hardy  (along  with  Vrnols] 
Bennett)  is  oddly  missing  from  the 
Green  list  <>l  Southwest  writers,  but 
Tess  .Hid  liulf  had  social  significance] 
in  revealing  the  grim  tragedy  "I  the 
"lowei  (I.isn."  Wells'  novels  and  Shawl 
plays  surely  made  for  social  change] 
["o  suggest  in  caste-ridden  Britain  that 
niilv  a  course  in  phonetics  stood  bq 
tween  Eliza  Doolittle,  the  bedraggled 
slut  11I  .1  flowei  girl,  and  Eliza,  the 
duchess,  was  social  dynamite  unnoticed 
by  the  crowds  who  flock  to  "My  Fat] 
Lady."  .  .  . 

Assisted  by  the  impact  f » I  two  world 
wars,  the  social  lours  expressed  in  the 
British  Laboi  party  have  secured  1  h«ir 
aims  dI  |)iil)li(  ownership  ol  basic  in- 
dustries  and  many  important  social  re- 
forms. Km  dreams  nevei  become  com- 
pletely  ti  ue.  I  he  stei  n  economic 
realities  ol  the  British  econumit  situa- 
lion  remain.  I  he  hiatus  seems  to  Mr. 
Green  to  be  the  corset  ol  genteel  tra- 
ditions .Hid  the  hangover  ol  the  "public 
si  hool."  .  .  . 

My  guess  is  tli.it  the  "angry  young- 
men"  will  eventually  find  their  own 
cause  to  serve  .  .  .  and  that  social 
changes  by  consent  .  .  .  will  proceed  in 
1  the  newer  and  more  complicated  world 
ol  nuclear  power,  sputniks,  and  emer- 
gent nationalist  revolutions. 

Mark  Starr,  l.duc.  Dir. 

II.OWU 

New  York,  N.   Y. 

The  Vge  of  the  Wonders  ol  Science! 
is  not  overburdened  with  those  quali- 
ties ol  wit,  ( harm,  and  gentleness  whi<  I 
Mr.  Martin  Green  cites  as  questionable] 
products  ol  a  "British"  education.  The 
Iron  Corset  he  deplores  doubtless  seems 
much  more  uncomfortable  to  the  wearei 
ill, in  can  be  evident  to  an  uncorseted 
transatlantic  observer.  I  hope,  though^ 
that  he  will  not  abolish  "Britain"  until 
a  very  fine  substitute  indeed  is  avail- 
able. 

\li<i  all,  the  educational  system  he 
describes  is  really  modeled  on  the 
liberal-arts  ideal:  to  develop  the  in- 
dividual mind  to  a  point  at  which  it 
can  ihink  for  itself,  employing  in  the 
process  a  reasonably  bio. id  background 
in  the  thoughts  and  achievements  of 
others.  .  .  . 

What  teachings  would  Mr.  Green 
rec  1 nend  instead? 

Swill!       R.     1)()KKA\(  i: 

New   Canaan,   Conn. 

\s  a  devoted  student  of  English  liters 
ature,  I  have  been  lou  ed  by  Mr.  Green's 
analysis  of   all   that  is  "British,"   to   in- 


**x« 


*~~? 


LORB 
AtVEKT 


K: 


°fiK 


TO 


t  V*  '#3 


AMERICAN 


LORD 
CALVERT 


American 
Blended  Whiskcv 


NOBLE  NIGHTCAP 

(Choose  from  the  world's  3  great  whiskies— tonight) 

There  comes  a  time  in  every  day  when  a  And  the  greatest  of  all  American  whiskies 

man  should  be  host  to  himself.  —  our  own  lord  calvert. 

Hence  we  present  this  noble  choice  of  This  is  far  from  self-indulgence.  And,  if  it 

nightcap.  A  great  Scotch.  A  gre.at  Canadian.  were,  who  would  have  a  better  right? 


iWW,'<-, 


:*VK>1 


»-7 


Vill 

Jii  ~-    , 

1    R 

T  * « ^      ^^^^^^               ^ 

^B 

BfeL  ~r~  -  -  B  &  flHfl) 

EI^PM^L' 

ft  A 

K    T    - 

k^^B     »T^.                 <&> 

■r  ^BT 

fcXk                 fr^\ 

Hk  vk     ■   AU  lb 

Girl  by  a  gate 
—  in  old  San  Juan 


Time  stands  still  in  this  Puerto  Rican 
patio.  That  weathered  escutcheon  bears 
the  Royal  Arms  of  Spain.  You  might  have 
stepped  back  three  centuries.  In  a  sense,  you 
have. 

You  start  to  wonder.  Can  this  really  be  the 
Puerto  Rico  everybody  is  talking  about?  Is  this 
the  island  where  American  industry  is  now  ex- 
panding at  the  rate  of  three  new  plants  a  week? 
Is  this  truly  the  scene  of  a  twentieth-century 
renaissance?  Ask  any  proud  Puerto  Rican.  He 
will  surely  answer— yes. 

Within  minutes  from  this  patio,  you  will  see 
the  signs.  Some  are  spectacular.  The  new  hotels, 
the  four-lane  highways,  the  landscaped  apart- 
ments. And  some  are  down-to-earth.  A  tractor 


in  a  field,  a  village  clinic,  a  shop  that  sells  refrig- 
erators. Note  all  these  things.  But,  above  all, 
meet  the  people. 

Renaissance  has  a  way  of  breeding  remark- 
able men.  Men  of  industry  who  can  also  love 
poetry.  Men  of  courage  who  can  also  be  tender. 
Men  of  vision  who  can  also  respect  the  past. 
Make  a  point  of  talking  to  these  twentieth- 
century  Puerto  Ricans. 

It  won't  be  long  before  you  appreciate  the 
deeper  significance  of  Puerto  Rico's  renais- 
sance. You'll  begin  to  understand  why  men  like 
Pablo  Casals  and  Juan  Ramon  Jimenez  (the 
Nobel  Prize  poet)  have  gone  there  to  live. 

©  1958— Commonwealth  of  Puerto  Rico, 
666  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  19,  N.  Y. 


How  to  find  this  patio  in  old  San  Juan.  Ask  for  the  City  Hall.  They  call  it 
the  Ayuntamiento,  in  Spanish.  Walk  straight  through  this  ijth  Century  build- 
W-g  and  there  is  your  patio.  Our  photograph  was  taken  by  Elliott  Erwitt. 


10 


* 


The  more  you  know 
about  Scotch,  the  more 
you  like  Ballantines 


'21'    Sranfls,  Hut .   n.  y.  c     s  &     P   R   o  o   f 

ALSO   IMPORTERS  OF   94.4    FROOF    BALLANTINES    DISTILLED    LONDON    DRY    GIN    DISTILLED    FROM    GRAIN 


LETTERS 

'i the  < ah  in  to  whic  h  I  mysell  h 

been    taken    in    b\    it.     I  he    answer 
Ktii  pei   cent.  .  .  . 

\v  .i  national  ideal,  tin  1  nglish  <o 
do  .1  lot  worse,  and  a  race  ol  El 
Kevins  and  Grade  Fields  would  i 
tainh  represeni  a  British  Gol 
danimei  ting. 

Ida    Mai     1  oist 
W'c  si     Miami.    | 

Real  Serpm 


To  the  Editors: 

Referring     to     Bruce    Bliven's 

Francisco:     New     Serpents     in     l£d| 

|.iiiu.ii\  J.    lias    he    not    omitted 

lion    ol    the    real    serpent    in    that 

in  |iu  ing    il    sei  iotisU    as    .i    business 

I  his  "serpent"   is  t In    control  ol 
waterfront   In   a  union  ol   longsli 
dominated   by  .  .  .   Bridges.  .  . 

I  low    much    shipping   goes    to    Pij 
Sound  and  Los    Vngeles  I  do  not  kn| 
bin    it   is  enough   to  remove   San 
cisco  from  its  position  .is  a  leading 
mi    the    Pacific     Coast. 

(.1  ()K(.l      R.    YV  ADl.l 

I  l.isi  ings-on-1  ludson, 

[In  his  article  on  San   Francisco] 
Bliven  states:  "  I  here  is  a  Poetry  CM 
subsidized  oddlv   i  tiough  b)   the   R< 
l:  I  lei   Foundation.  .  .  ." 

We  could  wish  that  the  Poetry  CeJ 
irtighl       be       guaranteed       continue 
through     such     support,     for     then 
should  not  have  to  go  begging  tot 
fully   small   sums   to   keep   the   pioja 
going.    J  lure   is   localh    a   great   deal 
.    .    .    interest    in    this    project    . 
.    .    .    little    nioiiex    to    realize    its 
poses,   and    slid)    as   there    is  comes   ll 
audiences  and  volunteers  who,  like  | 
self,    make    literature    an    integral 
ol  their  lives. 

In    I '.).")().    alter    [the    Center    had 
iwo  years  ol    precarious  financial   lil 
approached  the  Rockefeller  Founda 
Lhrough  the  President  ol  San  Franc 
State  College,  where  1   have  taught 
some    Lwent)     years.       I  he     I  luin.ui 
Division    ol    the    Foundation    agreei 
provide  a    three-yeai    .^lant    for  a 
time   assistant   direc  toi    and   gave 
small    working    capital    to    discovej 
extent     of    community     interest    m 
might   support   the  project.    We  cai 
sufficiently  acknowledge  the  debt  to 
Foundation,    for    without    it    we    m 
very    well    have    had    to    abandon 
program,   but    with   this  encouraged   «'■ 
I  worked  out  a  co-operative  scheme 
colleges    up    and    down    this    coasi 
make   it    possible  to   invite   poets   !i 
1 1st  u  hen    to  <  omi   out,  to  reel  and 
cuss   their   work.    .    .    . 

However,  lest  the  impression  beg 
thai    we   arc    "on  our    feet"   through 


:RA  LOVERS 


You  will  receive-without  charge- 

UNDER  THE  CONDITIONS   DESCRIBED   BELOW 

A   METROPOLITAN    OPERA   PERFORMANCE   OF 


SCENES 
FROM 


Die  Wilkuere 


by  RICHARD  WAGNER 


featuring  MARGARET  HARSHAW 

MARIANNE  SCHECH  •  BLANCHE  THEBOM 

RAMON  VINAY  •   HERMANN   UHDE 

NORMAN  SCOTT 

with  Ihe  'Metropolitan  Opera  Orchestra  and  Chorus 
DIMITRI  MITROPOULOS,  conductor 

ON  TWO  LONG-PLAYING   HIGH-FIDELITY   RECORDS 

RETURNABLE    WITHIN    TEN    DAYS    IF    YOU    DO    NOT 
CARE  TO  SUBSCRIBE  AFTER  HEARING  THESE  RECORDS 


Included  with  each  recording  is  an  illus- 
trated brochure  containing  the  text  of  the 
opera  as  it  is  sung  on  the  recording,  with 
an  English  translation  when  necessary.  The 
brochure  also  contains  an  appreciation  of 
the  opera  by  an   outstanding  music  critic. 


GIVEN  TO  YOU 


IF  YOU  AGREE  TO  BUY  FOUR  RECORDINGS  DURING  THE  NEXT  YEAR  IN 
A  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  TO  THE  METROPOLITAN  OPERA    RECORD  CLUB 


;  In  time  members  will  have  available 
e  entire  repertory  of  Metropolitan 
pera  performances  on  long-playing 
cords.  They  may  choose  only  those  re- 
irdings  they  want. 

i Members  are  notified  in  advance  of 
ich  forthcoming  opera,  and  have  the 
"ivilege  of  rejection  if  theydo  notwant  it. 

cThe  operas  are  carefully  abridged  for 
)me  listening  (by  the  Metropolitan 
aff)  to  the  length  of  one  or  two  12"  LP 
cords. 


jjc  The  records  are  high-fidelity  Vinylite 
33'/3  R.P.M.  discs.  When  the  opera  is  on 
a  single  twelve-inch  record  the  price  is 
$4.50;  when  it  is  an  album  of  two  twelve- 
inch  records,  the  price  is  $6.75.  (A  small 
extra  charge  is  added  to  cover  the  cost  of 
handling  and  shipping.) 

:^c The  sole  obligation  of  members  of 
The  Metropolitan  Opera  Record  Club 
is  to  buy  four  recordings  a  year  from 
the  nine  to  twelve  that  will  be  offered 
each  year. 


THE  METROPOLITAN  OPERA  RECORD  CLUB  J6-3 

A  Branch  of  Book-of-the-Month  Club.  Inc. 
345  Hudson  Street,  New  York  14,  N.  Y. 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  subscriber  to  The  Metro- 
politan Opera  Record  Club  and  send  me.  without 
charge,  the  recording  of  Scenes  from  Die  Walkuere. 
I  agree  to  buy  four  additional  Metropolitan  Opera 
Record  Club  recordings  during  the  first  year  I  am  a 
member.  For  each  single-disc  recording  I  accept  I 
will  be  billed  S4.50:  for  each  double-disc  recording, 
$6.75  (plus  a  small  extra  charge  for  handling  and 
shipping).  I  may  cancel  the  subscription  at  any  time 
after  buying  the  fourth  recording.  If  I  wish  to.  I 
may  return  the  introductory  recording  within  10 
days,  and  the  subscription  will  at  once  be  canceled 
with  no  further  obligation  on  my  part. 

MOC  17 


MR.     1 

MRS.  j-  

MISS    I  (PLEASE   PRINT    PLAINLY) 

Address 

City Zone  No 

State 

II ord  prices  ore  the  same  In  Canada,   ami  the  ('lull  ships  to 

Canadian  members,    will I   am    exlra  rhiirge   I'nr  duly.  l.hrniiRh 

Book-or-thc-M..nll.   riul>   (Canada),   Lid. 


The  Evidence  Is  Most  Conclusive 

The  delightful  softness  and  flavor  of  Booth's  BOOTH  S 

House  of  Lords  are  sufficient  to  convince  any  HOTT^F  rvP  T  ORD^I 

unprejudiced  man  it  is  the  world's  finest  dry  II^UOIj  VI  1AJLXUO 

gin— the  essential  ingredient  of  the  perfect  ^McQi^tMi 4<?/feJt  DRY  GIN 

Martini    Many  consider  it  almost  a  crime  to 

use  anything  else.  NEUTRAL  sp|R|TS  .  £  pROQf 

Imported  by  IT.  A.  Taylor  &  Company,  NewYork,  N.  Y.  Sole  Distributors  for  the  U.S.A. 


wstfH 


SAVE 

163° 

Round   Trip 


ALL  YEAR  .  .  .  LOWEST  TRANSATLANTIC  1  ARES 
OF  wi  SCHEDULED  airline.  From  New  York 
the  shortesl  over-ocean  flights  (never  more 
than  4H0  mile;,  from  an  airport)  ...  2  com- 
plimentary full-course  meals,  cognac,  mid- 
night  snack! 

The  direct  Great  Circle  route  to 

NORWAY    •    DENMARK    •    SWEDEN 

BRITAIN    •    GERMANY 

j£A\  Information  from   Any   Travel  Agent 

n    r-\    n 

ICELANDIC  AIRLINES 

15  West  47th  Street,  New  York  36     PL  7-8585 
Also  Chicago  •  San  Francisco 


LETTERS 

generosity  ol  th(  Rockefeller  Found* 
lion,  lei  me  make  cleai  we  are  Mil 
in   .i    precarious   financial    state,    wholly 

dependent    on    active     suppi I    ilu 

community.  .  .  . 

Ri  in  \\  n  i-Diam  w i .   Dir 

I  lu    Poetry    (  i  1 1 tii 

San    Francisco,  (  .ilil 

The  Lucky  Dra«oi 

ldiin    I  in  iors: 

li  is  fervently  to  be  hoped  that  "Thq 
Voyage  ol  the  Luck)  Dragon"  will  hav 
1 1  it  same  general  effe<  i  on  its  r«  add 
th.it  it  had  on  me:  <>ih'  <>l  drip  indifl 
nation  and  deeper  shame.   .   .   . 

I  wish  there  were  souk-  way  ih 
American  people  could  assure  on 
Japanese  brothers  that  we  <ln  care;  a 
east,  we  would  care  il  we  had  ha) 
a  chance  to  know  and  realize  the  fas 
ol  the  case.  .  .  . 

Wl  Mil  1  1     S.    Rll  II  VRDSON,  Jl| 

New   Yolk.    N.   1 


C lean   Turnpik 


I  o   i  in    I-  in  iors: 

In  the  Editor's  1  is\  Chair  lor  D| 
cenrbet  the  statement  appeals:  "Okl 
honia  ...  is  now  widely  believed  i 
have  the  most  unsightly  turnpikes  I 
Vmerica." 

I  o  quote  from  Din  booklet.  'Tl 
Firsi  I  hue  Years  ol  Operation  ol  tl 
Turnei   Turnpike": 

'The    I  tuner  Turnpike  has  rcnivi 
considerable   praise    fot    the   cleanlinJ 
ol    the    right-of-way    and    no    effort 
spaud  h\  the  Maintenance  Departme 
to  keep  it  that  way.  As  a  first  operatit 
each    morning,    trucks   are    assigned    i 
patrol  all  sections  <>l  the  Turnpike 
check    all    existing    conditions,    and    I 
remove  all  debris,  trash,  and  small  ail 
mals    snili    as    fox,    rabbits,    opossum 
coons,  deer.  etc.  which  have  been  kill  I 
on    tin     Turnpike    during    the    nig] 
Also  during  working  hours,  all  main  • 
name  trucks  stop  and  remove  from   J 
Turnpike  any  debris,  and   these  opej 
tions  add  greatly  to  the  appearance 
tin     I  urnpike." 

Willi  sin  li  constant,  daily  policing! 
is  impossible  loi  sufficient  littet  to  • 
cumulate  at  any  point  to  be  call! 
unsightly  by  any  imagination.  Fot  y<  I 
infoi  in.ition.  during  th<  four  and  i 
half  years  the  Juimi  Turnpiki  1 
bt  <  n  open  to  traffic,  we  have  rei  ei\lj 
numerous  compliments  from  many  pas 
of  the  I  nited  Man  -  .hi  its  i  h  anlinif 
and  Harper's  criticism  is  the  first  ill 
has   bee  n   received  othe  rwist . 

\\  .  1).  HOBAf  I     (flic!   I- ii-.  \l  . 

Oklahoma  Turnpike  Auilioi|| 

Ok,.         .     (.ay.    ou.\ 


////////, 


Day  in  and  day  out,  we  clear,  dig  and  drain 

uninhabitable  jungles  and  lagoons  in 

Central  America  . . .  creating  fertile  new  areas  for 

growing  bananas  and  other  crops  for  export. 


United  Fruit  Company 


JOHN   FISCHER 


the  editor's 

EASY  CHAIR 


Forecast  for  a  Cheerful  Springtime 

ANYBODY  who  lias  had  as  many  limbs 
sawed  off  behind  him  as  I  have  ought  to 
know  bettei  than  to  <liml>  oul  on  another  one. 
But  this  hunch  feels  bettei  than  mosl  almost 
as  good  as  I  hi'  Historic  Hniuli  that  midnight 
main  \c.iis  ago  when  I  filled  a  straight  llnsh 
with  a  two-card  draw  in  the  press  room  al  the 
Oklahoma  Cit)  jail,  thus  bankrupting  three 
rival  reporters,  a  trusty,  and  a  deputy  sheriff. 
When  the)  really  tingle,  I've  been  playing 
hunches  ever  since.  So  here  goes  with  a  predic- 
tion—which may  sound  just  as  Foolhardy  as  that 
kind  of  poker,  but  which  might  just  possibly 
pay  off. 

The  most  important  event  ol  1958  in  this 
country  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  rockets  or 
politics  or  recessions  or  any  of  the  other  Crave 
Subjects  which  arc  filling  the  headlines  these 
days.  It  will  be  a  change— gradual,  almost  un- 
noticed, but  in  the  long  run  profoundly  signifi- 
cant—in the  status  of  the  American  intellectual. 
The  fust  signs  of  this  change  are  (I  think) 
already  visible,  like  crocuses  sprouting  under  the 
siiq\v;  and  when  it  gets  its  growth,  it  almost 
certainly  will  transform  the  whole  character  of 
our  society. 

For  more  than  a  century— roughly  ever  since 
the  facksonian  revolution— most  of  the  intel- 
lectuals in  this  country  have,  at  most  times,  felt 
terribly  soil)  for  themselves.  They  have  felt 
underpaid,  underpraised,  and  unheeded.  They 
believed  the  rest  ol  the  community  to  be  hostile 
to  them,  or  indifferent;  and  they  in  turn  have 
often  been  hostile,  indifferent,  or  derisive  toward 
the  rest  of  the  community.  During  the  past  ten 
years  their  laments  about  "anti-intellectualism" 
have  been  particularly  shrill  (and  with  some 
reason,  though  perhaps  less  (ban  their  keening 
might    make  you   think). 

Those  days,  I  suggest,  are  about  over.  We  arc- 
now  entering  a  period,  I  believe,  when  intellec- 


tuals will  be  respected,  rewarded,  and  listened  to 
as  the)  have  not  been  since  the  days  when  the 
nation  was  run  b\  stub  eggheads  as  Hamilton, 
[efferson,  Madison,  Monroe,  Calhoun,  and  the 
Vdamses.  So  this  might  be  a  useful  moment  to 
iioic  why  the  intellectuals  have  been  at  odds 
with  American  societ)  Eoi  so  long,  and  win 
theii  sense  ol  alienation— to  borrow  one  ol  their 
favorite  phrases— riow  seems  to  be  lading. 

Til  E  term  "intellectual"  can  be  a  slipper)  one, 
meaning  different  things  to  different  people. 
(To  the  sainted  Senatoi  McCarthy,  ii  was  prac- 
tical!) a  synonym  Eoi  "Communist'^  to  a  Puerto 
Rican  immigrant,  it  might  mean  anybody  who 
(.in  nail.)  I  am  using  ii  here  to  describe  all 
those  people  who  make  a  living  by  dealing  in 
ideas.  Or,  as  Seymour  M.  I. ipse!  has  put  it, 
"those  who  (icate.  distribute,  and  appl)  cul- 
ture." It  includes  most  authors,  scholars,  artists, 
and  scientists— plus  a  good  man)  people  in  the 
communications  trades:  reporters,  advertising 
men.  teachers,  film  directors,  radio  and  TV  men, 
i  lerg)  men,  and  the  like. 

Obviousl)  not  all  intelligent  people  are  inicl- 
lectuals,  in  this  sense.  \'or  are  intellectuals 
in  <  ess.ii  il\  intelligent;  we  all  know  some 
leai  heis,  writers,  and  i  leigvmen  who  really  aren't 
\n\  blight.  Yet,  by  and  large,  anybody  who 
can  make  a  living  in  the-  idea  business  for  am 
length  of  time  is  likely  to  have  an  l()  well  above 
the  average— probably  above  130  on  the  cus- 
tomary Binet  scale. 

This  fact  alone  could  account  lor  a  good  part 
of  the  suspicion  the  intellectual  sometimes  en- 
counters. Out  of  the  170  million  people  in  the 
country,  less  than  (S  million  have  IQs  that  high; 
roughly,  one  out  ol  every  twenty.  They  are 
therefore  a  small  minority,  whose  tastes,  talents, 
and  habits  are  likely  to  set  them  apart  from  the 
crowd.  \nd  ever)  species  I  know  of  tends  to  be 
rough  on  the  individual  who  is  different;  if  you 
put  a  Rhode  Island  Red  chicken  into  a  pen  lull 
of  White  Leghorns,  they  very  probably  will  peck 
her  to  death. 

This  instinct  — which  seems  to  be  moderated 
only  slowly  and  partially  by  the  processes  of 
civilization— is  reinforced  by  a  kindred  one:  the 
natural  resentment  of  a  man  who  does  hard 
physical  labor  toward  the  man  who  doesn't.  A 
cow  hand  who  has  spent  a  hot,  clirtv  clay  brand- 
ing and  castrating  calves  ...  a  truck  driver  who 
has  wrestled  his  semitrailer  through  the  traffic 
on  Route  (i(>  lor  eight  hours  .  .  .  the  salesman 
who  has  been  pounding  the  pavement  with  a 
fifty-pound  sample  case  in  his  hand— these  people' 
would  be  less  than  human  il  they  didn't  look 
with  a  twinge  of  envy  (and  maybe  bitterness)  at 
the  man  who  sits  all  day  on  a  sponge-rubber 
cushion,  doing  nothing  but  talking,  or  writing, 
or  jotting  equations  on  a  yellow   pad. 

Often  the  intellectual  seems  to  encourage  this 


...WALTER  J.  BLACK,  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  CLASSICS  CLUB, 
INVITES  YOU  TO  ACCEPT  FREE 


c$(^c^Jt6ete-$m(tirfcdlfa  -faund,  <4<u6ez$fc  decova&d 'afacond  ^ 

Plato  -Aristotle 


FIVE  GREAT  DIALOGUES 

NOTHING  short  of  amazing  is  the  way  these 
classics — written  two  thousand  years  ago — hit 
so  many  nails  squarely  on  the  head  today!  Here,  in 
the  clearest  reasoning  in  all  literature,  two  of  the 
greatest  scholars  of  all  time  tell  us  how  to  live  in- 
telligently happy  lives,  whether  we  possess  worldly 
wealth  or  only  the  riches  that  lie  hidden  in  our  hearts 
and  minds.  Little  escaped  the  reflections  and  discus- 
sions of  Plato  and  Aristotle.  They  were  mighty 
pioneers  in  the  field  of  knowledge,  and  their  ideas 
are  astonishingly  timely  now. 


ON  MAN  IN  THE  UNIVERSE 

PLATO  is  presented  in  the  famous  Jowett  trans- 
lation, and  contains  the  five  great  dialogues — 
Apology,  Crito,  Phaedo,  Symposium,  and  the  Republic. 
ARISTOTLE  includes  the  five  celebrated  essays — 
Metaphysics,  Parts  of  Animals,  Nicomacbean  Ethics, 
Politics,  and  Poetics.  These  splendid  De  Luxe  Clas- 
sics Club  Editions  have  been  brilliantly  edited  and 
annotated  by  Louise  Ropes  Loomis,  Professor 
Emeritus  of  Wells  College.  Both  books  will  be  cor- 
nerstones of  your  library.  And  both  are  yours  free, 
as  membership  gifts  from  The  Classics  Club! 


Why  The  Classics  Club  Offers  You  These  Two  Books  Free 


T7TLL  YOU  ADD  these  two  volumes 
'  »  to  your  library — as  membership  gifts 
om  The  Classics  Club?  You  are  invited 
i  join  today  ...  and  to  receive  on  ap- 
roval  beautiful  editions  of  the  world's 
:eatest  masterpieces. 

These  books,  selected  unanimously  by 
istinguished  literary  authorities,  were 
losen  because  they  offer  the  greatest  en- 
>yment  and  value  to  the  "pressed  for 
me"  men  and  women  of  today. 
7hy  Are  Great  Books  Called  "Classics"? 

A  true  "classic"  is  a  living  book  that 
ill  never  grow  old.  For  sheer  fascination 
can  rival  the  most  thrilling  modern  novel, 
tve  you  ever  wondered  how  the  truly 
eat  books  have  become  "classics"?  First, 
cause  they  are  so  readable.  They  would 
>t  have  lived  unless  they  were  read;  they 
auld  not  have  been  read  unless  they  were 
teresting.  To  be  interesting  they  had  to 
easy  to  understand.  And  those  are  the 
ry  qualities  which  characterize  these 
'CCtions:     readability,     intertst,     simplicity. 


Only  Book   Club   of  Its  Kind 

The  Classics  Club  is  different  from  all 
other  book  clubs.  1.  It  distributes  to  its 
members  the  world's  classics  at  a  low 
price.  2.  Its  members  are  not  obligated  to 
take  any  specific  number  of  books.  3.  Its 
volumes  are  luxurious  De  Luxe  Editions — 
bound  in  the  fine  buckram  ordinarily  used 
for  $5  and  $10  bindings.  They  have 
tinted  page  tops,  are  richly  stamped  in 
genuine  gold — books  you  and  your  chil- 
dren will  cherish  for  many  years. 
A  Trial  Membership  Invitation  to  You 

You  are  invited  to  accept  a  Trial  Member- 
ship, With  your  first  book  will  be  sent  an 
advance  notice  about  future  selections.  You 
may  reject  any  book  you  do  not  wish.  You 
need  not  take  any  specific  number  of  books — 
only  the  ones  you  want.  No  money  in  advance, 
no  membership  fees.  You  may  cancel  mem- 
bership  any   time. 

Mail  this  Invitation  Form  now.  Paper. 
printing,  binding  costs  are  rising.  This  low- 
price — and  your  FREE  copies  of  PLATO  and 
ARISTOTLE — cannot  be  assured  unless  you 
1  promptly.  THE  CLASSICS  CLUB, 
Roslyn,  ,L.   I.,   New   York. 


Walter  J.  Black,  President  DP 

THE  CLASSICS  CLUB 

Roslyn,  L.  I.,  New  York 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  Trial  Member  and  send  me. 
FREE,  the  beautiful  2-volume  De  Luxe  Classics  Club 
Editions  of  PLATO  and  ARISTOTLE,  together  with 
the  current  selection. 

I  am  not  obligated  to  take  any  specific  number  of 
books  and  I  am  to  receive  an  advance  description  of 
future  selections.  Also,  \  may  reject  any  volume  be- 
fore or  after  I  receive  it,  and  I  may  cancel  my  mem- 
bership whenever  1  wish. 

For  each  volume  I  decide  to  keep  I  will  send  you 
$2.89  phis  a  few  cents  mailing  charges.  (Boo/is  Shipped 
in  U.S.A.  Only.) 


Mr.    i 
Mrs.  [  . 
Miss  ) 


(Please  Print  Plainly) 


Address  . 
City . . . . 


No. 
, .  i  if  any).  . .  .State. 


If. 


THE     EDITOR'S     EASY     CHAIR 


resentment.  He  is  apt  to  be  scornful  oi  the 
tastes  and  habits  of  non-intellectuals  and  be- 
cause  lie  is  highly  articulate,  l>\  nature  and 
training,  he  makes  no  secrei  ol  his  contempt. 
He  cilK  them  lowbrows,  links,  and  Babbitts;  he 
makes  Inn  ol  their  tawdry  furniture  and  kewpie- 
doll  decor;  he  sneers  al  then  devotion  to  comic 
hooks,  jnkc  boxes,  and  TV  westerns— unmindful 
ol  the  fact  that  at  least  S3  million  people  in  this 
countr)  are  probably  incapable  ol  absorbing  any- 
thing better,  simply  because  the)  are  endowed 
with  [Qs  ol  90  or  lowei . 

Such   condescension    is   not    endearing.     It    can 
even  be  argued  thai  it  is  in  bad  taste— like  j 
in»  at   a  club-footed   bo\    because   he  can't    run  a 
hundred    \atds    in    twelve    seconds.     So    it    is    not 

surprising  thai  the  mentall)  club-looted  some- 
times nun  on  their  nimbler  tormentors;  what 
is  surprising  is  the  astonishment  of  the  intel- 
lectuals  when    the    non-intellectual    snaps    back. 

II  WOULD  be  unfair,  however,  to  assume 
that  the  intellectuals  who  behave  this  way 
always  do  so  out  ol  sheei  orneriness.  Some  of 
them  believe  it  is  their  duty. 

1  01  one  of  the  intellectual's  traditional  jobs, 
over  the  last  two  thousand  years,  has  been  to 
serve  as  a  critic  ol  society.  He  gets  paid  for 
making  value  judgments— for  marking  off  the 
good  from  the  bad;  for  insisting  that  Bach  is 
superior  to  Irving  Berlin,  no  matter  what  the 
Trendcx  rating  s.us;  lor  putting  a  ringer  on  the 
stained  and  shabby  spots  in  the  social  fabric: 
for  reminding  people  that  they  are  living  in 
needless  ignorance,  sloth,  and  ugliness,  whether 
they  want  to  hear  this  news  or  not. 

People  seldom  do— as  their  treatment  of  Jere- 
miah, Socrates,  and  Jesus  bears  witness.  Only 
the  very  best  intellectuals,  naturally,  can  hope  to 
win  the  immortality  of  a  cross  or  a  cup  of  hem- 
lock. But  even  a  minor  prophet  is  likely  to  be 
stoned— an  occasion  which  does  not  call  for 
whimpers  about  "anti-intellectualism,"  but 
rather  for  satisfaction,  since  it  is  the  surest  sign 
he  is  doing  his  job  properly.* 

For  any  intellectual  who  does  an  honest  job  of 
examining  and  reporting  on  any  social  system- 
monarchy,  republic,  or  Soviet— is  bound  to  annoy 
a  lot  of  people.  Particularly  the  conservatives. 
They  are  comfortable  with  the  world  as  it  is,  and 
anyhow  do  not  believe  that  human  nature  can 
be  much  changed  for  the  better.  They  regard 
the  intellectual  as  a  fool  when  he  dreams  that  a 
few  of  the  90  [Qs  might  be  taught  to  worship 
a  better  hero  than  Mike  Hammer,  and  as  a 
dangerous  subversive  when  he  hints  that  the 
ideas  of  Adam  Smith  (or  Karl  Marx)  might 
stand  a  little  updating.    They  fear  his  sharp  eye 

"Rejoice-   when    the   spears   sink    into  you:    that's 
tin-    \\a\    you   get    iron    in    your    blood." 

—Don  Marquis,  The  Almost  Perfect  State 


lot  Stuffed  shirts,  and  loathe  his  habit  ol  asking 
rude  <|ueNtioiis  in  polite  company.  Consequently 
the  intellectu.il  is  rarel)  made  to  leel  truly  at 
home  in  a  conservative  part)  or  .-,  Eashionable 
neighborhood. 

ALL  this  has  been  normal  in  most  countries 
(including  both  Tsarist  and  Communist  Russia) 
most  ol  the  time.  In  America,  however,  the  in- 
tellectual has  had  an  additional  set  ol  persecu- 
tois.  Ihe\  are  themselves  radicals  and  angry 
ciitics  ol  the  existing  social  structure— but  the) 
have  usually  looked  on  the  intellectual  as  an 
enem)  rkther  than  an  ally.  Their  natural 
habitat  is  we-st  ol  the  Alleghenies.  They  have 
gone  by  many  names  since  Jackson  first  rallied 
them  to  revoll  against  the  well-heeled  and  well- 
bred,  but  they  might  all  be  labeled,  in  a  loose 
fashion,  as   Populists. 

loi  e  xample,  when  I  grew  up  in  the  Southwest 
that  part  of  the  country  thought  of  itsell  as  an 
exploited  province  of  the  wicked  East— just  as 
Tennessee  had  been  at  the  time  of  the  Jackson- 
Biddle  feud.  Oui  resources,  railroads,  markets, 
and  credit  were  all  controlled  (or  so  we  believed) 
b)  New  York  and  Boston.  The  Money  Barons  of 
Wall  Street  and  State  Street  had  their  heels  on 
our  neck:  and  all  ol  them  (according  to  legend) 
had  been  incubated  in  the  Ivy  League.  Yale  and 
Harvard  were  playgrounds  where  fledgling 
millionaires  learned  to  guzzle  champagne,  ogle 
e  hoi  us  gills,  and  question  Holy  Writ:  and  from 
thence  they  emerged,  in  due  term,  not  only  to 
rob  us  poor  and  pious  Westerners,  but  to  sneer 
at  our  poverty  and  unsophistication  while  they 
did  it.  And  since  most  of  the  lesser  seats  of 
learning  also  were  located  in  the  East,  any  edu- 
cated man  was  liable  to  be  suspected  of  being 
not  only  a  snob  but  a  .scoundrel.* 

Such  folklore  lives  on  to  this  day  in  the  remoter 
parts  of  the  West,  South,  and  Midwest;  and 
elsewhere  similar  emotions  have  long  smoldered 
among  the  immigrants— especially  the  Irish— who 
felt  themselves  oppressed  and  snubbed  by  the 
rich  and  polished  Yankees.  (See  Edwin  O'Con- 
nor's The  Last  Hurrah.)  This,  I  believe,  ex- 
plains a  lot  about  the  McCarthyites.  In  their 
eyes,  one  of  Alger  Hiss's  unforgivable  sins  was 
being  a  Harvard  Law  School  man. 

Like  anyone  who  is  being  shot  at  from  both 
sides,  the  American  intellectual  got  to  feeling 
unwanted.  When  he  compared  his  pariah  treat- 
ment with  the  lordly  status  of  the  European 
intellectual,  he  felt  even  worse.  There  education 
had  traditionally  been  a  class  privilege;  the  intel- 
lectual had  long  enjoyed  an  established  niche 
high  in  the  social  hierarchy;  businessmen  might 
not    like    him,    but    they    always    touched    their 

*  When  people  in  these  parts  said  hard  words  about 
the  J. mies  boys  as  the)  sometimes  did,  they  usually 
meant  Will  and  Henry,  not  Jesse  and  Frank. 


tss 


OLD 


2*^1 


^<^^ 


■  1 


SCOTCH 

"tie*  ■  SGtSZrotf 
uf.JWtoi  &  CO 

J    ulS'»IBUTOSS 


The  Fashionable  Sootch 


distinguished  Old  Smuggler 
tie  is  no  false  fagade.  It  is  an 
priate  attire  for  the  fashion- 
'cotch. 

Smuggler  justly  merits  this 
ition.  Because  it  is  developed 
)atience  and  scruple — because 
istinguished  by  great  softness 
;licacy  of  flavour — and  because 
ries  on  quality  traditions  that 
>ack  to  1835. 


Nothing  better  indicates  how  much 
Old  Smuggler  is  appreciated  than 
the  remark  heard  so  frequently  when 
it  is  poured,  "Careful,  don't  waste 
a  drop — that's  Old  Smuggler." 

If  you  have  not  yet  enjoyed  the 
superb  delight  of  Old  Smuggler, 
why  not  ask  for  it  by  name  the  next 
time?  You  will  be  richly  rewarded. 
Please  take  another  look  at  the 
bottle  to  fix  il  firmly  in  your  memory. 


Distilled,  Blended  and  Bodied  in  Scotland 

Imported  l>y 

W.  A.  TAYLOR  &  COMPANY,  N.  Y.,  N.  Y. 

Sole  Distributors  for  the  U.  S.  A. 

BLENDED  SCOTCH   WHISKY         •         86  PROOF 


SCOTCH  with  a  Historv 


AMERICAN  PRESIDENT  LINES 


SERVING  50  PORTS  ON  4  MAJOR  TRADE  ROUTES 


THE     EDITOR'S     EASY     CHAIR 


elocks  when  he  walked  by,  and 
iticians  listened  to  him  with 
;.  Disciples  gathered  around  his 
le  at  the  Deux  Magots,  and  beau- 
il  women  lavished  on  him  the 
d  of  attention  which,  in  the 
ited  States,  was  strictly  reserved 
movie  stars. 

o  thousands  of  bright  young  men 
om  the  Henry  James  generation 
Hemingway's— lit  out  for  the  Old 
>rld  which  knew  how  to  treat 
m  right.  Those  who  couldn't 
se  the  boat  fare  wrote  dirges  about 
ss  culture  in  the  Sahara  of  the 
zart.  A  few  strayed  toward  the 
mnunist  party— the  only  political 
anization,  up  till  the  "thirties, 
ich  not  only  sympathized  with 
ir  discontent,  but  also  paid  them 
ive  court. 


DDAY  several  interesting  things 
happening   to   the  old  relation- 
d    between    the    American    cora- 
nity    and     the     intellectual— and 
y  are  happening  on  both  sides  of 
equation.     He   is   beginning    to 
oect    that    the    local    culture    is 
ther  so  hopeless  nor  so  inhospita- 
as   he   once   believed;    and    the 
ntry   at   large   is   now   conceding 
t  he  may  be  a  useful  fellow— if 
tetimes  an  uncomfortable  one— to 
e  around. 

This  change  started  some  time 
The  Populist  suspicion  of  cul- 
2,  for  example,  began  to  evapo- 
t  when  learning  ceased  to  be  a 
r-monopoly  of  the  East,  and 
m  the  hinterland  stopped  think- 
of  itself  as  a  colony  of  Wall 
eet.  For  two  decades  wealth  and 
mlation  have  been  shifting  mas- 
ly  towards  the  West;  the  Ivy 
gue  universities  are  now  dwarfed 
size,  if  not  quality)  by  dozens  of 
irie  degree-factories;  and  a  trio 
Texas  millionaires  can  buy  up  the 
<v  York  Central  railroad  as  cas- 
ly  as  a  new  Cadillac.  Today  it 
lild  be  hard  to  find  a  Westerner 
I)  considers  himself  either  op- 
Issed  or  snubbed  by  anybody.  All 
Ir  the  country,  meanwhile,  auto- 
lion  is  making  sweaty  physical 
|:>r  almost  an  anachronism— and 
I  too  the  age-old  resentment  of 
|><-le  against  brains. 
I.t  the  same  time  the  demand  for 
lllectuals  has  been  rising  sharply, 
lakes  brains,  of  a  high  order  and 


tion  as  complex  as  ours  work  at  all. 
Only  an  IQ  above  130  can  run  an 
analog  computer,  an  automated  fac- 
tory, a  General  Electric  laboratory, 
a  broadcasting  network,  a  political 
organization,  or  a  ballistic  missile 
base.  And  suddenly  we  have  found 
that  this  kind  of  brainpower  is  in 
exceedingly  short  supply. 

In  particular,  the  communicators 
—the  people  who  can  explain  one 
highly  specialized  fragment  of  our 
social  organism  to  all  the  other  parts 
—have  turned  out  to  be  indispensi- 
ble.  Without  them,  our  whole  eco- 
nomic structure  would  collapse  in 
confusion,  as  the  Tower  of  Babel 
did  and  for  the  same  reason. 

The  result  has  been  a  Magic  Bean- 
stalk growth  in  the  number  of  jobs, 
the  pay,  and  the  prestige  of  those 
skilled  in  handling  words  and  ideas. 
Public  relations  has  become  our 
fastest  growing  industry,  as  Robert 
Heilbroner  pointed  out  in  the  June 
1957  issue  of  Harper's.  Advertising 
men,  lobbyists,  news  commentators, 
science  writers,  sociologists,  and 
(belatedly)  teachers  have  discovered 
that  they  have  a  scarcity  value.  One 
modest-sized  electronics  manufac- 
turer employs  twenty-two  writers 
just  to  explain  its  products  and  its 
operations  to  customers  and  its  own 
staff,  paying  them  on  the  same  scale 
as  its  engineers.  I  know  of  a  maga- 
zine that  has  been  hunting  for  a 
managing  editor,  at  a  salary  above 
$20,000,  for  nearly  a  year;  and  a 
sociologist  recently  told  me  he  had 
turned  down  three  jobs  paying 
about  the  same  in  a  single  month. 
Such  an  intellectual  may  sometimes 
disdain  the  work  offered— "I  would 
rather  starve  than  do  motivational 
research"— but  he  can  hardly  com- 
plain of  neglect  so  long  as  personnel 
men  are  waving  fistfuls  of  coarse  bills 
outside  his  cloister  window. 

Even  Captains  of  Industry  find 
that  they  must  now  spend  much  of 
their  time  merely  trying  to  com- 
municate—explaining things  in  end- 
less committee  meetings,  memo- 
randa, and  staff  conferences.  Last 
year,  as  a  consequence,  some  300,000 
executives  went  back  to  school  at 
company  expense,  primarily  to  learn 
to  handle  ideas  and  communicate 
them  to  others:  i.e.,  to  function  as 
eggheads.  And  academic  types  have 
begun  to  climb,  with  increasing  fre- 
quency and  speed,  to  the  corporate 


17 


SINGAPORE 

KNOWS  THE  PRESIDENTS 

In  Singapore  —  in  Colombo,  Karachi, 
Genoa — in  storied  ports  around  the  world, 
the  trim  vessels  of  the  President  fleet  are 
familiar  and  welcome  visitors.  Aboard  are 
passengers  from  far-off  places  in  quest  of 
adventure  and  world  discovery. 
In  their  holds  these  President  liners  carry 
the  fabulous  products  of  American  indus- 
try; from  machines  to  medicine,  from  film 
to  frozen  food.  And  from  these  same  ports 
they  bring  home  the  varied  bounty  of  the 
world. 

Forty  ships  flying  the  American  flag,  and 
APL's  world-famed  eagle  insignia,  cease- 
lessly plying  four  famous  travel  and  trade 
routes. 

See  Singapore  this  year  on  a 
world  cruise! 

Be  aboard  on  the  morning  the  president 
polk  or  president  monroe  sails  into 
Singapore!  Be  aboard  for  Yokohama,  for 
Hong  Kong,  for  Bombay  and  all  the  other 
historic  ports  'round  the  world,  and  for  all 
the  shipboard  fun  between.  Over  100  mem- 
orable days. 

The  president  polk  and  PRESIDENT  MON- 
ROE sail  from  New  York  and  San  Fran- 
cisco every  8  weeks.  Fares  from  $2525. 

New  York  to  California— the  fun  way 

Two  weeks  aboard  the  president  polk  or 
president  monroe  sailing  from  New 
York.  Enjoy  daylight  transit  of  the  Pan- 
ama Canal  and  visit  Acapulco  en  route  to 
San  Francisco.  Fares  from  $550. 

California  to  the  Orient 

Sail  from  San  Francisco  aboard  the  presi- 
dent CLEVELAND*,   PRESIDENT  HOOVER  Or 

president  wilson*  to  Japan,  the  Philip- 
pines and  Hong  Kong  on  a  6-week  cruise. 
Take  longer  if  you  choose;  tour  Bangkok, 
Angkor  Wat,  Singapore,  India.  Pressed  for 
time?  Travel  one  way  by  President  liner, 
the  other  by  air.  Cruise  fares  from  $1386. 
*Calls  Honolulu  twice  each  cruise. 
See  your  travel  agent  for  details. 

AMERICAN  PRESIDENT 
LINES 

General  offices: 
311   California   Street,   San   Francisco  4 


18 


No  Two  Alike... 


Over  the  years  now,  we  have  prob- 
ably done  business  with  a  million  in- 
vestors, may  have  dealt  with  a  million 
problems  of  investing. 

So  far  we've  never  come  across  any 
two  that  were  exactly  alike,  and,  quite 
frankly,  we  don't  ever  expect  to. 

Because  times  change  —  and  invest- 
ment values  with  them  .  .  . 

Because  people  differ  in  age  and  tem- 
perament, in  occupation  and  re- 
sources, in  the  risks  they  can  afford 
and  the  rewards  they  seek  .  .  . 

Because  it  would  be  miraculous 
indeed  if  so  many  variables  ever 
matched  perfectly. 

That's  why  we  treat  every  problem 
as  an  individual  case — why  any  sugges- 
tions we  make  about  your  investment 
situation  will  be  tailored  to  fit  your 
own  particular  set  of  circumstances. 

If  you'd  like  to  know  what  we  think 
of  your  present  portfolio,  for  ex- 
ample, or  if  you'd  be  interested  in 
what  kind  of  a  program  we  might 
recommend  for  your  funds  and  ob- 
jectives, just  ask. 

There's  no  charge  for  our  answer. 
You  won't  be  obligated  in  any  way. 
And  it  won't  be  stereotyped.  You  simply 
address — - 

Allan  D.  Gulliver,  Department  SW-9 

Merrill  Lynch, 
Pierce,  Fenner  &  Smith 

Members  New  York  Stock  Exchange 

and  all  other  Principal  Exchanges 

70  Pine  Street,  New  York  5,  N.  Y. 

Offices  in  112  Cities 


THE     EDITOR'S     EASY     CHAIR 


pinnacles— for  example,  Dr.  Frank 
Stanton,  the  ex-professoi  who  now 
inns  CBS  .  .  .  IWaidslcy  Runil,  a 
(kan  who  became  a  banker,  boss  of 
Macy's,  and  capitalist-at-large  .  .  . 
fohn  I  Snyder  who  moved  limn  the 
London  School  of  Economics  to  the 
presidency  ol  U.  S.  Industries  .  .  . 
Marion  B.  Folsom,  holder  of  eight 
degrees,  Harvard  overseer,  and 
treasurer  of  Eastman  Kodak  before 
he  stepped  ii])  to  the  Cabinet  ...  to 
pic  k  only  a  lew  at  random. 

In  government,  too,  the  academic 
cream  has  been  rising  to  the  top 
faster  than  most  of  us  realize.  The 
Eisenhowei  Administration  employs 
more  professors  than  the  New  Deal 
evei  did  — not  because  it  is  headed  by 
.i  loi iiici  college  president,  but  be- 
cause it  can't  run  the  public  busi- 
ness without  them.  Senator  Lyndon 
Johnsort,  described  elsewhere  in 
these  pages  as  the  second  most  pow- 
erful politician  in  the  country,  once 
taught  school.  His  assistant  leader  of 
the  Senate  majority  is  an  ex-college 
teacher,  and  so  are  ten  of  his  other 
colleagues.  More  than  half  of  the 
remaining  Senators  have  earned  ad- 
vanced degrees,  and  practically  all 
of  them  have  acquired  at  least  one 
In   I  he  honorary  route. 

All  this  suggests  that  America  may 
no  longer  be  as  indifferent  to  the  in- 
tellect and  learning  as  those  com- 
plaints about  "anti-intellectualism" 
might  lead  us  to  think. 

FAR  more  important  than  the  sta- 
tistics, however,  is  a  change  in  our 
cultural  climate  which  now  seems 
to  be  under  way.  It  started  a  few 
months  ago  when  we  realized,  with  a 
jar,  that  America  no  longer  led  the 
world  in  everything  .  .  .  that  our  way 
of  life  might  be  something  less  than 
perfect  .  .  .  that  the  critics  of  society, 
whom  we  had  long  brushed  off  like 
so  many  mosquitoes,  might  be  worth 
listening  to  .liter  all. 

From  that  moment,  the  status  of 
the  intellectual  has  been  fairly  leap- 
ing. Instead  of  being  treated  like  a 
pariah  fit  for  stoning,  he  now  is  get- 
ting almost  reverential  attention.  A 
recent  study  by  the  National  Opin- 
ion Research  Outer  indicated  that, 
in  the  eyes  of  their  fellow  citizens, 
college  professors  outrank  every  non- 
political  calling  except  physicians, 
while  authors,  artists,  and  musicians 
stand  almost  as  high.    Scientists,  fus- 


ion.ms,  and  English  teachers  ha) 
been  elbowing  the  acrobats  and  hi 
billy  singers  off  the  TV  screen,  ai 
even  the  Army  has  conceded  thl 
kitchen  police  might  not  be  the  bi 
assignment  for  a  mathematii 
genius. 

This  new  attitude,  I  suspect,  is  rj 
merely   a   result   ol    the   Russian  v 
tories    in    technology,    propagan< 
and    economic    warfare,    nor    of   tj 
deepening  recession,  although  tin 
things  certainly  helped  to  crystal 
it.   Rather  it  seems  to  be  the  prodi 
ol   a   long  process  of  cultural  gr< 
ing-up,   which    is   not   yet    fmishe* 
and    which    probably    will    now 
ahead  at  an  accelerating  pace. 

THE  process  has  been  hastened 
a  change  in  the  intellectuals  thj 
selves.  They  have  not  abandoi 
their  role  of  critics,  but  for  so 
time  their  criticism  has  been  gn 
ing   more   responsible  and  relevs 

For  the  events  of  the  last  twe 
years  have  pretty  well  destroyed 
myths  which  had  led  the  old-f 
ioned  intellectual  of  the  'thir 
into  a  lot  of  irresponsible  (; 
downright  silly)  positions: 

(I)  The  myth  of  the  perman 
cultural  superiority  of  Europe. 
fate  of  the  intellectual  in  FasB 
Italv  and  Germany,  in  Commu 
Russia  and  Yugoslavia,  and  in  c 
quered  Eastern  Europe— plus 
sterility  and  despair  of  post 
France— have  made  it  impossible 
see  that  continent  any  longer  i 
Thinker's  Paradise.  Meanwhile 
distasteful  aspects  of  mass  cultu 
long  regarded  as  uniquely  Amera 
—have  been  spreading  fast  throJ 
out  Europe.  Not  as  a  consequa 
of  "Americanization,"  but  simply] 
cause  the  common  people  there! 
for  the  first  time  getting  the  mci 
and  leisure  to  indulge  their 
tastes,  in  defiance  of  the  priestly 
of  the  old  High  Culture. 

At  the  same  time  the  United  S 
has  been  creating  art  forms— in 
sic,  architecture,  painting,  ballet, 
literature— which  are  not  so  eas 
dismiss  with  a  highbrow's  sneer, 
blind,    blanket    condemnations  | 
still   uttered   now   and   then,   a 
ently    from     force     of    habit- 
amusing  examples  can  be  foun 
Mass    Culture,    a    recent    anth 
compiled  by  Bernard  Rosenberg 
David   M.  White— but   many  of 


'ike  this  newest  copy  of 

AMERICAN 


He*itagf 


HERITAGE 

for  only  $JOO 
and  forget  it*. . .  if  you  can! 

■3f  You  need  never  buy  another  copy  unless  you  wish.  You'll  receive 
this  big,  handsome  book  —  worth  *2.95  at  retail  —  for  just  H.OO, 
and  no  strings  attached. 


CONTENTS 


He  defied  and  out- 
witted the  U.  S.  Army 
in  a  1,300-mile  run- 
ning battle — and  be- 
came a  tragic  hero  to 
thousands  of  white 
Americans.  Here's 
the  moving  story 
(with  photographs) 
of  Joseph  and  his 
Chiefs  — a  fine  exam- 
ple of  historical  re- 
search. 


The  rain  drizzled.  The 
new  Vice-President 
was  tipsy.  Even  the 
vestals  of  the  "Temple 
of  Liberty"  refused  to 
risk  their  flimsy  robes 
in  the  Inaugural  Pa- 
rade. Then  Abe  Lin- 
coln arrived— and  "the 
sun  burst  through  the 
clouds". . . 


LINCOLN'S  SECOND  INAUGURATION 
"T/if  Pnsident'came  forward  audm  the  sun  burst  through  llie  clouds" 


7k~  & 


ages  of  Adventure  in  America's  Past-to  Introduce 
1  to  this  New  Kind  of  Magazine  in  Book  Format 


'- 


In  1809,  Mr.  John  Q. 
Adams  was  the  least 
important  diplomat  in 
Russia  —  while  Alex- 
ander I  was  Europe's 
most  awesome  mon- 
arch, matching  his 
power  against  Napol- 
eon and  the  English. 
Here  is  how  the  un- 
orthodox Yankee  min- 
ister became  the  Czar's 
friend  and  helped  re- 
shape history. 


AND  MORE:  The  story  of  Teddy  Roosevelt's  chest- thumping  college  and 
courtship  days ...  a  poignant  article  about  the  West  Point  classmates  who 
fought  each  other  in  1861 .  .  .  the  amusing  true  story  of  the  "golden  spike" 
ceremonies  on  the  first  Trans-continental  Railroad  .  .  .  and  many  others  — 
in  all,  112  pages  of  exciting,  memorable  articles  and  illustrations. 


J> 


;ry  issue  of  American  Heritage 

(and  this  handsome  copy  is  no 

)tion)  is  equal  in  beauty  and  qual- 

<  many  limited  edition  books  which 

or  $5.00  to  $15.00.  Why,  then,  do  we 

you  the  current  copy  for  only  $1.00 

h  no  strings  attached? 

uply  this.  We  want  you  to  see 

rican  Heritage  for  yourself,  and 

t  it.  We  want  you  to  share  the  de- 

of  its  fascinating  picture-stories 

t  of  them  ablaze  with  full  color)  — 

;s  full  of  humor,  charm  and  excite- 

,  backed  by  authoritative  research. 

rant  you  to  feel  its  handsome,  dur- 

case-binding,  turn  its  sleek,  coated 

'Pi  3.  and  see  its  fine  book  quality. 

i!-s(  i  want  you  to  see  how  brilliantly  the 

(l  »rs,  under  the  direction  of  Bruce  Catton, 

up  the  little-known   corners   of   our 

[in  a's  past . . .  how   they  rediscover,   for 

entertainment   and    satisfaction,    the 

heritage  of  our  land  and  its  people. 

of 


You  have  to  see  American  Heritage  to 
understand  it.  First  of  all,  it  is  a  book;  a  big 
book,  with  no  advertisements.  Next,  like 
a  magazine,  it  is  issued  every  other  month, 
richly  bound  and  beautifully  illustrated  — 
a  treasured  addition  to  any  library.  Best  of 
all,  its  contents  never  go  out  of  date.  If  you 
have  growing  children,  you  will  certainly 
want  to  share  American  Heritage  with 
them.  For  here  is  their  richest  inheritance. 

The  current  issue  is  a  particularly  good 
example  of  why  300,000  families  now  sub- 
scribe. A  limited  number  of  copies  have  been 
set  aside  for  new  readers.  One  of  these  is 
yours  for  only  one  dollar,  provided  you 
request  it  within  30  days.  (The  regular  book- 
store price  is  $2.95  — and  a  bargain  at  that.) 

Naturally,  we  have  a  motive  for  this  unu- 
sual offer.  It  is  this:  if  you  like  American 
Heritage,  we'll  gladly  tell  you  how  to  sub- 
scribe at  a  greatly  reduced  introductory 
price.  But  nobody  will  call  at  your  home  or 
pressure  you  in  any  way.  And  no  further 
copies  will  ever  be  sent  unless  you  ask  for 
them,  in  writing. 


But  quantities  are  limited  — and  this  offer 
will  not  be  repeated.  Send  the  coupon,  with 
only  $1.00,  to  American  Heritage,  Dept. 
408,    551  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 


~1 


THIS  OFFER  EXPIRES  MARCH  31 
MAIL  COUPON  TODAY  TO 

AMERICAN  HERITAGE 

Dept.    408,   551  Fifth  Ave.,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y. 

I  enclose  one  dollar  ($1.00)  in  full  payment 
for  my  introductory  copy  of  American  Heri- 
tage, which  is  mine  to  keep  with  no  other 
obligation  or  commitment.  Should  I  decide 
to  subscribe,  after  examining  my  copy,  I  may 
do  so  at  a  reduced  rate. 


Name. 


PLEASE  PRINT 


Address. 


!_ri:_„ 


.Zone State 


In  a  class 

by  itself 

since  1830 


HIGHLAND   CREAM 
Scotch  'Whisky 

86  PROOF  •   Blended  Scotch  Whisky 
Schieffelin  &  Co.,  New  York 


THE     E  A  S  \      (HAIR 

able)  (iiti<s  are  beginning  to  look 
..i  Vmerican  society  with  serious  in- 
k  rest.  II  theii  comments  are  now 
bettei  heeded  l>\  the  community,  it 
may  be  because  the)  are  more  worth 
heeding. 

(2)  The  myth  of  The  Left.  Al- 
though relatively  lew  American  in- 
tellectuals evei  drifted  into  Com- 
munism, a  good  many  did  flirt  at 
one  time  or  another  with  Socialism, 

['rotskyism,  Fascism  (in  the  case  of 
Ezra  Pound),  or  other  exotic  politi- 
cal notions.  Some  ol  this  was  simple 
imitation  of  their  European  counter- 
parts; some  resulted  from  their 
disillusionment  with  American  so- 
ciety during  the  depression  years, 
and  tin  n  eagerness  to  listen  to  any- 
one who  promised  to  fix  everything 
up  immediately. 

1  he\  have  now  had  a  de<  ade  oi 
more  to  see  how  these  theories 
worked  out  in  practice— an  expe- 
rience which  has  withered  virtually 
all  of  their  old  naive  enthusiasm. 
The  last  Communist  who  could  by 
any  stretch  be  called  an  intellectual 

-Howard  Fast— has  now  left  the 
party  in  disgust;  and  the  welfare 
state  variety  of  Socialism  entrenched 
throughout  Western  Europe  now 
generates  boredom  rather  than  ex 
citement.  Not  many  American  in- 
tellectuals yet  describe  themselves  as 
conservatives,  but  most  of  them  have 
moved  a  long  way  toward  the  center 
arena  where  American  politics  takes 
place;  and  some  are  finding  real 
politics  more  intellectually  engross- 
ing than  the  play-politics  of  radical 
splinter  groups  ever  was. 

In  short,  the  intellectuals  have 
been  growing  up  along  with  the  rest 
of  the  community.  And  there  is  rea- 
son to  hope  that  both  sides  will  con- 
tinue  to  close  the  alienating  gap, 
which  has  been  so  costly  to  all  of  us. 

A  LREA  D  Y  the  reunion  of  the 
intellectual  with  the  community  is 
producing  some  cheerful  results.  For 
example: 

(1)  In  many  high  schools  good 
grades  ate  no  longer  considered  a 
badge  of  shame.  The  football  star 
has  been  dethroned  as  campus  hero 
in  most  colleges;  and  I  have  just 
been  talking  to  one  bright  Yale 
senior  who  has  decided  to  pass  up  a 
lush  advertising  job  in  order  to  do 
graduate  work  in  anthropology. 

(2)  A  well-stocked  private  library 


Visit 


...FORANEWVIEWPO 

Seeking  something  new 
exciting  in  travel?  Then 
Japan!  You'll  enjoy  the  be 
of  the  country  . . .  fine  moi 
comfortable  hotels;  exec 
transportation;  wondi 
food;  and  thrilling  bargai 
Give  yourself  a  new  view 
. . .  see  your  Travel  Agen 
plan  a  memorable  vac 
in  the  intriguing  Orient! 


Jap  am  To u mn Mom 


10  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  York  2 
6S1   Market  Street.  San  Franclscc| 
48  Front  St.  W.,  Toronto 
109  Kaiulanl  Ave.,  Honolulu  15 


f    DELIGHTFUL,  INEXPENSIVE 

I        TOURS 
I      IRELAND 

V      BY  LUXURIOUS  MOTOR  COACI 


All-Inclusive 
Hotels,  Meals,  Even  Ti: 

6,  7,  8,  9  and  12  DAY 
FOR  ABOUT  $10  PER  D 

TYPICAL  6-DAY  TOUR  $56.4 

Dublin,  Cork,  Blarney  Cas 

Ring  of   Kerry.  ALSO   12-1 

TOURS  OF  ALL    IRELAN" 


"SUPER  DE  LUXE". 
6  DAY  TOUR 

From  Dublin  every  Thursday 
July  3rd  to  Aug  28th. 
SIAItO  VISITING  KILLARNt 
I  III  RING  OF  KERRY 

BLARNEY 
MANY  OTHER  ATTRACTIONS 


A  wonderful  trip  through  the 
scenic  South  of  Ireland. 


SPECIAL  TRANSPORTATIC 

DURING  AN  TOSTAL  PERI 

BEFORE  YOU  LEAVE,  obtain  all 

rail  and  bus  transportation,  and 

ervations  at  Great  Southern  H 

from 

YOUR  TRAVEL  AGEI 

Tour  folder  and  map  on  request 
IRISH  RAILWAYS 

9  Rockefeller  Plaza.  New  York  20, 
CHICAGO-LOS  ANGELES-T0R0 


llU 


I 

I*  tom 


Coras 

lOMPAIR     „.,„„„,, 

ElREANN       Transport  Comp 


Provocative . . .  outstanding . . . 


ANY  3  FOR  ONLY  $3-95 


Ztwk  fW  Cm*#  4&UdX&h4>-  .  .  n££  <*w£A  MslCt*44M>4* 


The  books  pictured  here  are  representative  of  the  selections 
;ularly  offered  to  members  of  BOOK  FIND  CLUB  at  savings 
to  50%.  These  are  among  the  most  stimulating  and  inform- 
ve  books  by  the  outstanding  writers  of  today.  They  are  in- 

Jided   for  people  who   want   to   keep   informed   of   the   most 
nificant  ideas,  discoveries  and  adventures  .in  every  important 
OAO  ;a  of  human  experience. 

Membership  is  both  easy  and  rewarding.  Each  month  you 
eive  free  our  literary  magazine,  The  Book  Find  News,  which 


contains  an  authoritative  review  of  the  forthcoming  selection. 
If  you  like  it,  you  need  do  nothing,  it  will  arrive  automatically; 
if  not,  you  simply  return  a  form  saying,  "Send  me  nothing." 
Or— you  may  choose  from  a  list  of  over  100  current  books,  all 
available  at  special  membership  savings.  And— under  the  Book 
Find  Club  Bonus  Plan,  you  receive  one  free  book  for  each  four 
selections  purchased. 

Begin   your  membership   now   by   accepting  any   3   of   these 
important  books— all  3  for  $3.95. 


AMERICA  AS  A  CIVILIZATION.  By  Max  Lerner. 
A  brilliant  insight  into  the  workings  of  America. 
An  examination  of  the  automatic  factory,  public 
relations,  steady  dating,  the  split-level  home,  and 
many  more  aspects  of  the  growing  pains  of  a 
nation.  Pub.  at  $10.00. 

ALBERT  CAMUS:  The  Invincible  Summer.  By  Albert 
Maquet.  No  writer  has  become  a  classic  more 
quickly  than  Nobel  Prize  winner  Albert  Camus. 
Here  is  the  first  full-length  study  in  English  of  all 
Camus's  novels,  stories,  plays  and  essays  supple- 
mented by  a  complete  bibliography.  Pub.  at  $3.75. 
THE  SANDBURG  RANGE.  By  Carl  Sandburg.  496 
pages,  16  pages  of  photographs,  portraits  and 
caricatures,  6'/n"  x  9'A".  A  single  volume  that 
presents  every  aspect  of  a  notable  literary  career, 
including  Sandburg  as  poet,  biographer,  historian, 
novelist  and  storyteller  for  children.  Pub.  of  $6.00. 
ATTORNEY  FOR  THE  DAMNED.  A  portrait  of 
Clarence  Darrow  in  his  own  words,  edited  by 
Arthur  Weinberg.  The  most  famous  courtroom 
addresses  from  one  of  America's  greatest  law- 
yers and  humanitarians,  brought  together  for  the 
first  time.  Pub.  at  $6.50. 

A  HISTORY  OF  EUROPEAN  MORALS.  By  W.  E.  H. 

Lecky.  A  brilliant  study  of  the  origins  and  devel- 
opment of  Western  moral  beliefs  and  conduct. 
Pub.  at  $5.00. 

THE  YOKE  AND  THE  ARROWS.  By  Herbert  L. 
Matthews.  An  exciting  report  on  Spain,  her 
political  and  cultural  situation,  by  the  well  known 
New  York  Times  correspondent.  Pub.  at  $3.75. 
MYTH  AND  GUILT.  By  Theodor  Reik.  A  foremost 
psychoanalyst  explores  the  crime  and  punishment 
of  mankind  and  probes  human  guilt-feelings. 
Pub.  at  $5.75. 


THE  POWER  ELITE.  By  C.  Wright  Mills.  A  thought- 
ful, carefully  documented  scrutiny  of  the  new 
"top-drawer"  ruling  class  of  America  .  .  .  the  men 
and  women  now  at  the  pinnacles  of  fame  and 
power  and  fortune.   Pub.  at  $6.00. 

TOMORROW  AND  TOMORROW  AND  TOMORROW. 

By  Aldous  Huxley.  Huxley  at  his  most  varied, 
startling  and  readable  best,  his  unrivalled  erudi- 
tion and  intellectual  virtuosity  touching  on  a 
great  range  of  human  knowledge.    Pub.  at  $4.00. 


THE  AMERICAN  PAST.  By  Roger  Butterfield.  The 
ultimate  in  picture  histories,  a  panorama  in  pic- 
tures and  words  of  the  entire  history  of  the  United 
States,  newly  revised  and  updated  with  additional 
text  and  plates.   Pub.  at  $6.95 

THE     ROOTS     OF    AMERICAN    COMMUNISM.     By 

Theodore  Draper.  A  sober,  responsible,  profes- 
sional history  of  the  origins  of  the  American 
Communist  party,  with  impressive  documentation 
and  dispassionate  analysis.  Pub.  at  $6.75. 


THE   BOOK   FIND  CLUB 

215  Fourth  Ave.,  New  York  3 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  mem- 
ber and  send  me,  for  only  $3.95 
plus  24#  postage  and  handling, 
the  3  books  I  have  chosen.  I  am 
to  receive  free  the  monthly  Book 
Find  News.  I  agree  to  purchase 
at  least  4  additional  books 
during  my  first  year  of  mem- 
bership, and  I  am  to  receive  a 
free  Bonus  Book  for  each  4  pur- 
chases. I  may  cancel  my  mem- 
bership without  obligation  at 
any  time  after  accepting  4 
selections. 


D  Myth  and  Guilt 

□  The  Power  Elite 

□  The  Yoke  and  the  Arrows 
D  A  History  of  European 

Morals 

□  Roots  of  American 
Communism 


[  ]  America  as  a  Civilization 

□  Albert  Camus 

□  The  Sandburg  Range 

G  Attorney  for  the  Damned 

□  The  American  Past 

□  Tomorrow  and  Tomorrow 
and  Tomorrow 

Name  .. 


22 


The  Big  Hi-Fi  Sound 

is  the  Decca 
New  World  of  Sound! 


"Oh,  this  is  wonderful.  Now  Bing,  my 
favorite,  favorite  singer,  has  a  musi- 
cal autobiography!  In  this  first  one, 
he  sings  25  songs  like  'Star  Dust', 
'Mississippi  Mud',  'Wrap  Your  Trou- 
bles In  Dreams',  greats  like  that. 
Bing's  the  best!"  DL9054 


® 


"Stunning  performance  of  Beethov- 
en's fabulous  'Fidelio'  .  .  .  with  a 
regular  'who's-who'  all-star  cast! ... 
Fischer-Dieskau,  Seefried,  Hafliger, 
Rysanek,  Frick.  Ferenc  Fricsay,  di- 
rects the  Bavarian  State  Orchestra. 
An  opera  'must'!"  DXH-147* 

'Recorded  by  Deutsche  Grammophon. 

DECCA 

RECORDS 

A    NEW    WORLD    OF  HI-FI  SOUND 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 

is  becoming  a  status  symbol  ranking 
right  along  with  a  Eanq  automobile 
or  a  mink  coat.  The  sales  <>l  books 
especially  the  erudite  titles  in  the 
quality  paperback  lines-continue  to 
rise  in  spite  of  competition  from  TV 
and  a  host  ol  other  amusements. 

(3)   Magazines    edited    lor    people 
who  do   not   move   their   lips  when 
the}    read  -the  New  Yorker,  the  At- 
lanta. Scientifii  American,  Holiday, 
Harper's,  the  Saturday  Review,  and 
a  lew  others-are  making  astonishing 
gains  in  both  readership  and  adver- 
tising; while  Collier's  and  a  number 
of  other  mass  magazines  have  disap- 
peared.   (Advertisers  apparently    are 
beginning  to  realize  that  brains  and 
money  often   go  together,   and   thai 
intellectuals  influence  both  the  taste 
and    the   opinions   of    lots   of   other 

people.) 

(4)   TV  executives   are  making  a 
similar  discovery.    They  arc  finding 
that  Robert  Frost  and  Leonard  Bern- 
stein   at  tract    surprising    audiences, 
both    in    numbers    and    in    quality; 
that     an     interview     with     Nelson 
Rockefeller     produces     200,000     re- 
quests for  copies  of  the  Rockefeller 
report  on   national   defense;    that  a 
venture     in     social     criticism     like 
"Where  We  Stand'-presented  with 
immense  seriousness  and  intellectual 
honesty-can   have   a   major   impact 
on   public  opinion;   and   that   thou- 
sands of  people  will  get  up  before 
dawn    to   watch   a   professor   discuss 
great  works  of  literature. 

(5)  A  four-volume  $25  history  of 
mathematical  thought-James  R. 
Newman's  The  World  of  Mathe- 
matics-has become  one  of  the  phe- 
nomenal best  sellers  of  publishing 
history. 

(6)  College  education  has  become 
a  goal,  not  for  the  few,  but  for  prac- 
tically everybody  who  can  pass  the 
entrance  examinations-forcing  the 
country  to  search  for  ways  to  build 
more  college  plant  in  the  next 
twenty  years  than  it  has  in  the  last 
two  hundred. 

Such  a  list  of  the  signs  of  an  in- 
tellectual springtime  could  be  con- 
tinued for  pages.  They  are  evidence, 
lt  seems  to  me,  that  1958  may  mark 
a  kind  of  solstice  in  American  his- 
tory-and  that  from  now  on  it  may 
not  be  so  easy  to  aim  at  this  country 
the  old,  taunting  question: 

"If  you're  so  rich,  why  aren't  you 
smart?" 


COMING   IN 


Harper's 

A        magazii 


NEXT   MONTH 

WHAT'S  HAPPENING 
TO  JAZZ 

In  the  past  ten  years,  thanks  | 
largely  to  LP  records,  the  audience  j 
for  jazz  has  zoomed  from  a  small 
closed  circle  of  cognoscenti  to  a 
.till  swelling  mob.  A  well-known 
jazz  critic  explains  what  this  fan- 
tastic spread— both  here  and 
abroad— has  meant  to  modern  jazz- 
men,  and  to  the  way  jazz  is  per- 
formed. 

By  Nat  Hentojf 


A  COMBAT  VETERAN 
SOUNDS  OFF 

An  infantry  officer,  who  served) 
in  three  wars  and  recently  retired 
as  chief  of  research  and  develop- 
ment of  infantry  weapons  in  the 
Army  Field  Service,  tells  how  to 
get  better  defense  for  less  money. 
By  Col.  E.  B.  Crabili 

CIA: 

Who   Watches  the   Watchman? 

The  Central  Intelligence  Agency  j 
is  the  one  major  U.  S.  governmen  | 
agency  completely  free  of  Congres; 
sional  scrutiny.  A  Washingtoi 
newspaper  man  who  covers  Capito 
Hill  shows  why  some  legislator 
view  this  situation  with  alarm- 
and  what  they  plan  to  do  about  i 
By  Warren  Unn 


TEAM  DOCTORS: 

Group  Practice  Goes  Rustic 

All  over  the  country  groups  < 
ambitious  young  doctors  are  brinj 
ing  city  standards  to  small  cor 
munities  — despite  the  oppositic 
of   local   old-line    medical    associ| 

tions. 

By  Marion  K.  Sands 


; 


The  man  of  the  hour 

is  the  man  who  KNOWS 


hi 

COI 

iiti 

.iir 


At  this  particular  hour,  of  course,  the  man  who 
knows  science  is  more  in  the  spotlight  among  us 
than  other  men. 

We  are  reacting  normally  to  the  momentous 
events  of  the  months  just  gone. 

In  the  long  run,  in  this  nation,  however,  we 
always  have  valued  all  those  among  us  who  know, 
who  seek  to  know,  who  devote  their  lives  to 
knowing. 

What  they  know,  what  they  want  to  know  is 
only  part  of  their  importance  to  us.  It  matters  even 
more  that  there  be  enough  such  men,  that  they 


be  free  men,  thinking,  studying,  exploring  as  only 
free  men  may  think  and  study  and  explore. 

This  is  a  good  time  to  restate  our  attitudes  toward 
such  men,  and  toward  the  impulses  that  drive 
them  on. 

For  surely  these  are  among  the  noblest  impul- 
ses of  man,  the  equal,  perhaps,  of  patriotism,  greater 
than  ambition,  greater  than  the  need  for  a  liveli- 
hood or  fame:  the  impulse,  the  instinct,  the  passion 
to  KNOW. 

TIME  — The  Weekly  Newsmagazine 


JrEjIioOINAl^  and  otherwise 


Among  Our  Contributors 


GUIDE     FOR     STATESMEN 

WHEN'  William  S.  White 
speaks  of  Lyndon  Johnson 
as  a  politician  who  practices  politics 
as  an  art,  he  uses  his  words  with  a 
lull  sense  of  their  dignity.  From  his 
article.  "Who  Is  Lyndon  Johnson?'' 
(p.  53),  the  reader  can  inter  a  theory 
ol  life  and  art.  in  which  politics  is 
an  important— often  the  most  im- 
portant—human endeavor. 

Johnson  has  completed  twenty 
years  in  Congress;  1958  is  his  tenth 
yeai  in  the  Senate,  his  fifth  as  Demo- 
cratic leader.  So  brilliantly  has  he 
used  his  strategic  position  as  Ma- 
jority Leadei  and  chairman  ol  the 
Preparedness  Subcommittee  that  the 
opposition  has  been  conceding  in  re- 
cent weeks  that  he  has  "kept  the 
ball"— even  after  the  President's 
State  of  the  Union  Message.  Never- 
theless, it  was  surprising  to  read  in 
that  most  Republican  of  newspapers, 
the  New  York  Herald  Tribune,  that 
/ohnson  "is  rising  to  the  level  of 
statesmanship  the  times  cry  for." 

Calling  a  "politician"  a  "states- 
man" rarely  happens  in  this  country 
until  the  adjective  "elder"  or  "late" 
is  a  correct  modifier.  In  view  of  this 
extraordinary  designation  for  an  ac- 
tive, vocal,  unabashed  practicing 
politician  like  the  Senator  from 
Texas,  it  is  interesting  to  look  back 
lo  a  classic  text  called  The  States- 
man, published  in  18:56  by  a  British 
civil  servant,  Sir  Henry  Taylor.* 
Taylor's  work  is  Baconian  in  its  wit 
and  wisdom,  but  it  ought  to  serve 
well  as  a  handbook  tor  any  politi- 
cian  who  takes  his  work  seriously  as 
one  of  the  lively  arts. 

Here  for  the  record  are  some  of 
Taylor's  precepts: 
Quarreling 

—A  statesman  should  be  by  nature 
and  temper  the  most  unquarrelsome 
of  men,  and  when  he  finds  it  neces- 

*  It  has  recently  been  reissued  at  Cam 
bridge,  England,  by  W.  Heftcr  and 
Sons,  with  an  introduction  by  Leo  Sil- 
berman. 


sary  to  quarrel,  should  do  it,  though 
with  a  stout  heart,  with  a  cool  head. 
.  .  .  A  statesman  should  be  careful 
not  only  never  to  make  a  wanton  or 
unprovoked  attack,  but  also  never  to 
make  an  attack  which  is  not  almost 
certain  to  be  ellce  live. 

Popularity 
—So  1  u  as  it  is  a  ground  of  judg- 
ment at  all,  it  is  against  a  man;  be- 
cause the  delects  which  ordinarily 
accompany  it  are  more  essential  than 
the  merits.  Hardly  am  man  obtains 
popularity  without  desiring  and 
seeking  it,  or  without  making  some 
sac  l  die  es   for   it. 

Accessibility 
—The  statesman  who  is  easy  ol 
access  will  not  only  squander  his 
lime:  he  will  commonly  be  found  to 
sacrifice  the  distant  to  the  near,  pub- 
lic to  individual  interests,  and  mat- 
ters ol  no  light  importance  to  the 
ill-considered  smile  of  the  moment. 

Shuffling  papers 
-As  last  as  papers  are  received, 
the  party  who  is  to  act  upon  them 
should  examine  them  so  far  as  to 
ascertain  whether  any  of  them  relate 
to  business  which  requires  im- 
mediate attention,  and  should  then 
separate  and  arrange  them.  .  .  .  He 
should  not  again  suffer  himself  to 
look  at  a  paper  or  handle  it,  except 
in  the  purpose  to  go  through  with  it 
and  dispatch  the  affair. 

Ambition 
—Excess  ol  ambition  arises,  some- 
times from  a  lively  imagination 
confounding  the  future  with  the 
present,  or  a  weakness  of  mind  sacri- 
ficing the  future  to  the  present;  and 
less  frequently  from  deliberate  mis- 
calculation as  to  the  sources  of  per- 
manent happiness. 

Promotion 
—The     system     of     every     service 
which  requires  energy  and  ability  to 
be  devoted  to  it,  should  be  so  con- 
trived  that  a  meritorious  man  may 
find    some    advancement    accrue    to 
him  at  least  once  in  every  ten  years. 
In    sundry    of    their    natural    advan 
tages     men     suffer     a     sensible     de 
ciine  with  every  lapse  of  ten  year' 
and  they  look  lor  an  adv;  in  fo 


ti 


tunes    to    indemnify    them    for    tl 
bac  kslidings  ol  nature. 

Relaxation   iti  society 
\i\     adequate     proportion 
women  will  slacken  the  tone  of  ce 
\  ei  sal  ion    .   .   .   and   yet   tend  to  ai 
mate   it    also.    And   there   is   this  : 
vantage  in  the  company  e>l  womei 
espe<  iall\    il  some  of  them  be  be. 
tilul    and    innocent  — that    breaks 
conversation    are    not     felt     to 
blanks;   lor  the  sense  of  such  a  p 
ence  will  serve  to  fill  up  voids  ; 
interstices. 
Diet 
—  If  a  statesman  would  live  long 
he  must  pa\   a   jealous  and  watch 
attention  to  his  diet.  .  .  .  The  sitt 
after  dinner,  though  much  abbr 
ated   in   our  days,  might  be   furt 
abridged,  or  indeed  altogether  ah 
cloned,    with    advantage.     An    in 
bilitv   of   the   stomach   often   res 
from  confinement  to  the  same  j 
ture    lor    more    than    half   an    h 
after  dinner;  and  if  the  conversatf 
fails    in    interest   the   dessert    is 
sorted  to. 

.  .  .  Lyndon  Johnson's  fellow-Te* 
William  S.  White,  has  had  op  n 
tunities  equal  to  those  of  Sir  H(B 
Taylor  to  observe  the  qualitiefl 
statesmen.  His  book  about  the  I 
Senate,  Citadel,  is  a  classic  not  < 
about  that  most  fascinating  fo[d 
but  about  the  men  of  more  than| 
tinction  who  function  there. 

He  was  born  in  Texas,  wen  ti 
public  schools  and  the  UniversitB 
Texas,  started  his  reporting  case 
on  Texas  newspapers  while  still! 
college.  Invalided  out  from  d 
Army  in  1942,  he  went  oversea 
an  AP  correspondent  and  crcfle 
the  Channel  with  the  troops  oljl 
Day.  Since  1945,  Mr.  White  | 
been  with  the  Washington  bull 
of  the  Neie  York  Times,  has  covfe 
all  major  foreign  policy  debate' 
the  Senate  and  the  national  pol 
conventions. 

His  biography,  The  Taft  & 
won  the  Pulitzer  Prize  for  1954. 
study  of  Richard  Nixon  as  a  p 
ble  President  appeared  in  Hat 
in   January. 

.  .  .   The  sputniks  and  the  Exj:  r 
represent  a  remarkable  breaktfn 
in     technological     control;     bu 
man's    physical    penetration    o  tl 
Universe,  they  are  crude  first  e  >i 
—reaching  some  hundreds  of 


il 


Pamela 
and 

the  Press 


I  dually  Pamela  created  the  urgency, 

\  although  she  hadn't  yet  been 

>rn.  It  was  especially  because  of 

lmela  that  Major  Samuel  Lee,  soon  to 

discharged  from  the  United  States 

rmy,  was  looking  for  a  good  house  to 

,j  ly.  But  he  wasn't  finding  it  easy.  He 

asn't  even  finding  it  possible. 

Certainly,  there  were  plenty  of  houses 

r  sale.  Billboards  offered  them  all 

ong  the  freeway  to  Orange  County, 

here  Major  Lee  wanted  to  buy  a  home 

l)  id  practice  his  profession  of  medicine. 

ut  they  just  weren't  available  to 

immy  Lee. 

Not  that  Major  Lee  wasn't  a  man  of 

laracter  and  substance.  He  had  grown 

in  nearby  Los  Angeles,  became  a 

tiysician,  served  with  distinction  in  his 

pppuntry's  army. 

The  problem  was  something  else  en- 
rely.  The  real  estate  men  were  polite 
ut  firm.  Nothing  personal,  you  under- 
and,  but  business  was  business.  They 
Duldn't— or  wouldn't— sell  a  home  to  a 
erson  of  Korean  ancestry. 

Major  Lee  tried  moderate-priced 
omes;  he  tried   the  more  expensive 
ustom-styled"  homes.  The  answer  was 
le  same.  Nothing  personal,  though. 

But  it  felt  personal  to  Sammy  Lee  on 
le  plane  all  the  way  to  Washington, 
/here  he  and  other  noted  guests  were 
dine  with  the  President  and  plan  a 
ampaign  against  juvenile  delinquency. 
Sammy  Lee  was  one  of  the  President's 
uests  because  he  had  twice  won  Olym- 
>ic  diving  championships  for  the  U.S., 
tecause  he  had  just  completed  a  tour 
f  Southeast  Asia  nations  as  the  Presi- 
lent's  Sports  Ambassador  and  would 
oon  become  one  of  the  members  of  a 
earn  of  Olympic  champions  to  attend 
he  Australian  Olympic  Games  as  the 
'resident's  personal  representatives. 

When  he  returned  to  his  base  at  Fort 
Larson,  Colorado,  he  spoke  to  his 
riends  of  the  irony  of  his  position,  and 
lis  letters  to  his  many  friends  abroad 
■effected  his  bitter  disappointment. 

A  foreign  correspondent  in  Tokyo— 
i  man  who  had  known  Sammy  — heard 
he  story  and  telephoned  one  night. 
3ver  six  thousand  miles  of  telephone 
wires  and  undersea  cables,  the  newsman 
:overed  a  story  somewhat  off  his  beat. 


After  a  long  talk  with  Sammy,  the 
correspondent  telephoned  an  editor  of 
the  San  Francisco  Chronicle  who  the 
next  day  sent  a  reporter  to  Santa  Ana. 
The  facts  were  checked,  the  story  run. 
West  Coast  metropolitan  papers  carried 
the  story  of  Sammy's  fruitless  search 
for  a  home.  Television  and  radio  news- 
rooms picked  it  up.  The  Santa  Ana 
Register,  biggest  hometown  newspaper 
for  Orange  County,  went  to  work  edi- 
torially. So  did  the  Long  Beach  Press- 
Telegram,  which  isn't  quite  in  Orange 
County  but  is  widely  circulated  there. 

The  press,  once  described  by  Thomas 
Jefferson  as  more  vital  than  government 
itself,  was  on  the  job. 

The  Press-Telegram  wired  funds  to 
Sammy  in  Fort  Carson  to  come  again 
to  Orange  County  to  meet  the  real  peo- 
ple, the  real  spokesmen.  Sammy  came. 

He  met  the  Mayor  of  Anaheim.  He 
met  the  President  of  the  West  Orange 
County  Board  of  Realtors.  Together 
they  took  Sammy  and  his  family— which 
now  included  young  Pamela— through 
the  area  until  they  found  the  home  and 
the  physician's  office  that  they  wanted. 

When  the  Lees  moved  in,  Orange 
County  threw  a  big,  official  party,  with 
alL  sorts  of  heart-warming  overtones. 

(advertisement) 


'•PAMELA    AND  HER   MOTHER"  PHOTOGRAPH  BY  HAL  ADAMS 

Banners  said  "Welcome  Sammy  Lee!" 
Newspaper  and  television  cameras 
clicked  and  ground.  Speeches  were 
made  by  the  Mayor  of  Anaheim,  the 
President  of  the  County  Medical  Asso- 
ciation, the  State  Senator,  the  Congress- 
man and  the  United  States  Senator. 

Best  of  all,  the  neighbors  were  there. 
From  blocks  around  they  came  — and 
Sammy's  disappointment  and  Sammy's 
asking  were  answered,  in  the  best 
American  tradition. 


What  happened  to  Sammy  Lee  in  his 
quest  for  a  home  provides  another 
example  of  the  endless  ways  in  which 
American  individuals  and  institutions 
are  constantly  renewing  their  faith  in 
the  principles  of  Jefferson,  Madison, 
Lincoln  and  other  great  Americans  in 
this,  the  20th  Century. 

The  American  Traditions  Project  of 
the  Fund  for  the  Republic  has  compiled 
hundreds  of  true  stories  of  contempo- 
rary Americans  whose  actions  have 
advanced  freedom  and  justice.  Some  of 
these  stories  have  been  published  in  a 
booklet,  "The  American  Tradition  in 
1957!'  Free  copies  are  available.  Write 
to  the  American  Traditions  Project, 
Box  48462-HE  Los  Angeles  48,  Calif. 


26 


PERSONAL     &     OTHERWISE 


as  compared  with  the  achievements 
of  astronomers  in  "looking  through" 
2,000  million  lightyears  ol  space. 
•'  Astronomy  seems  to  have  entered 
i  golden  age,"  says  George  W.  Gray, 
beginning  his  two-pan  series  on 
"New  Discoveries  about  the  Birth, 
Life,  and  Death  ol  the  Sun  and 
Othei  Stars"  (p.  29). 

Mr.  Gray's  dramatic  survey  ol  our 
new  knowledge  of  the  stull  ol  the 
Universe  and  the  Stars  appears  as  a 
soi  i  ol  thii  ty-yeai  anniversary  ol  the 
germinating  idea  for  the  200-inch 
Palomar  telescope  and  observatory 
which  were  completed  onl)  within 
the  last  decade.  In  the  \piil  1928 
issue  ol  Harper's,  Dr.  George  Ellery 
Hale  discussed  "The  Possibilities  of 
Large  Telescopes"  in  an  article 
which  he  had  ahead)  used  in  pre- 
publication  form  as  ammunition  in 
making  an  appeal  to  the  Interna- 
tional Education  Board  (financed  b) 
fohn  1).  Rockefeller,  Jr.).  Dr.  Hale, 
a  leading  spirit  in  the  lounding  and 
development  ol  the  Mount  Wilson 
Observatory  in  the  early  1900s,  in- 
vited the  president  ol  IEB,  Dr.  Wick- 
liffe  Rose,  out  to  Pasadena  in  March 
1928  and  aroused  his  enthusiasm  for 
investigating  "how  large  a  telescope 
mirror  it  would  be  feasible  and  ad- 
visable to  cast."  At  the  May  meeting 
in  New  York,  the  Hoard  voted  six 
million  dollars  "for  the  construction 
ol  an  observatory,  including  a  200- 
inch  telescope."  Hale's  request  was 
only  for  an  exploratory  grant,  Mr. 
Gray  told  P  &  O,  but  he  got  the 
whole  works. 

Six  million  dollars,  of  course,  is 
peanuts  (the  price  ol  perhaps  three 
ICBMs),  but  the  crop  then  planted 
has  made  the  heavens  bloom. 

Mr.  Gray  is  a  distinguished  writer 
on  science  and  education,  the  author 
of  Frontiers  of  Flight.  Science  at 
War,  and  other  books— as  well  as 
articles  in  Harper's,  Scientific  Amer- 
ican, and  other  magazines.  For 
twenty  years,  as  an  associate  of  the 
Rockefeller  Foundation,  he  visited 
and  reported  on  the  research  proj- 
ects ol  the  Foundation. 

.  .  .  Sweet  talk  from  the  manufac- 
turers ol  computing  machines— those 
electronic  giants  which  aim  to  dis- 
place men  in  office  and  industry- 
can  never  convince  us  that  the 
menace  of  Frankenstein's  monster  is 
unreal. 


"Despite  the  capabilities  ol  mil- 
Lion-dollai  data  handling  and  com- 
puting s\snnis."  John  1.  [ohnson, 
marketing  vice  president  ol  the 
Minneapolis  -  I  lonevwell  Regulatoi 
Company,  has  said  reassuringly, 
"they're  onl)  as  good  as  human 
beings— those  who  build  them,  those- 
who  train  others  to  use  them,  and 
those  who  actually  do  use  them." 

Nevertheless  the  average  human 
being  retains  a  sinking  fear  that 
automation  is  going  to  rob  him  not 
onl)  ol  his  livelihood,  but  also  ol  his 
position  ol  top  dog  among  earthly 
<  i  eatures. 

To  these  subconscious  anxieties, 
Louis  B.  Solomon  gives  the  fust  con- 
vincing demonstration  we  have  read 
thai  a  counterrevolution  is  in  the 
making.  In  "Univac  to  Univac" 
(p.  37),  he-  '^i\es  much  needed  solace 
to  the  human  ego.  Mr.  Solomon  is 
an  assoc  iate  professor  ol  English  and 
deputy  c  haii  man  of  the  department 
ai  Brooklyn  College.  He  was  an  in- 
telligence officer,  lieutenant  colonel, 
in  the  Air  Corps  in  World  War  II. 

.  .  .  Introducing  his  new  book,  Rus- 
sia, the  Atom  and  the  West,  George 
F.  Kennan,  former  Ambassador  to 
Russia  and  chief  of  the  Slate  De- 
partment's  policy  planning  stall  un- 
der President  Truman,  says:  "What 
I  have  tried  to  suggest  here  is  not 
what  governments  should  do  but 
what  they  should  think."  This  is 
the  reflective  tenor  ol  his  present 
article,  "How  Can  the  West  Re- 
cover?" (p.  39),  which  is  adapted 
from  his  Reith  lectures  delivered 
over  the  BBC.  The  entire  series, 
with  additional  material,  will  be 
published  by  Harper  &  Brothers  on 

Match  :;. 

Mr.  Kennan,  who  retired  from  a 
quarter-century  of  government  serv- 
ice in  1953  at  the  age  of  49,  has 
continued  to  arouse  public  interest 
whenever  he  has  spoken.  The  BBC 
lectures  delivered  at  the  time  ol  the 
NATO  meeting  this  winter  became 
a  focal  point  for  broadened  popular 
and  official  discussion  of  NATO 
policy  questions— from  observers  as 
far  apart  as  President  Heuss  of  Ger- 
many and  Dean  Acheson,  Mr.  Ken- 
nan's  loinici  boss  as  Secretary  of 
Stau-.  Mi.  Kennan,  who  has  been  in 
England  as  Visiting  Eastman  Pro- 
lessor  ol  American  History  at  Ox- 
ford, is  regularly  at  the  Institute  for 


Advanced  Stud)  at  Princeton,  when 
he  has  been  writing  a  histoiv  d 
American-Russian  relations.  Th 
fust  volume.  Russia  Leaves  the  Wat 
w  on  the  Pulitzei  Pi  ize  in  1956,  anj 
the  second,  The  Decision  to  Intel 
vene,  has  just  been  published  by  thij 
Prim  eton  I  University  Press. 

.  .  .  Herbert    Howarth,    an    Englis 

visitor  who  loves  America,   found   ii 
Missoula,  Montana,  a  clear  image  o,  . 
the    frontier   spirit    still    living— a™ 
with  no  relation  to  the  TV  westea 
either.    In   "Montana:    The   frontie 
Went  I  hataway"  (p.  18)  he  describes! 
in    terms    (hat    not    every    Monlanai 
may  entirel)  relish,  what  constitute! 
the    charm    ol    this    way    station    be 
tween  Fast  and  West.    Mr.  Howarth 
who    was   director   of   the    Nation! 
Book    League    in    London,    came    ui 
the  United  States  as  visiting  lecture 
at  the-  University  of  Michigan,  ant 
he   has  taught  here  at  various   uni 
veisities  since  then.    He  is  now  on  A 
visiting    appointment    at    the    I'nij 
veisitv  of  Pittsburgh. 

.  .  .  "Gentlemen's  Came"  (p.  59)  i] 
the  first  published  story  by  H.  E.  El 
Donohue,  a  New  York  editor  and 
copywriter.  Mr.  Donohue  grew  uj 
in  Trenton,  New  Jersey,  attendee 
William  and  Mary,  and  graduated 
from  the  University  of  Chicago.  He 
has  been  a  stevedore,  surveyor's  rod 
man,  waiter,  newspaper  rewrite  main 
and  bookstore  owner,  as  well  as  busi 
riess  manager  of  Poetry  and  editor 
of  the  Chicago  Alumni  Magazine. 

.  .  .  Gerald  Sykes,  novelist  and  critic] 
presents  in  "The  Dialogue  of  Freuc 
and  Jung"  (p.  66)  a  literary  revalua 
tion  of  one  of  the  most  fascinating 
intellectual  battles  of  our  time.  ThtJ 
article  is  an  outgrowth  of  a  series  ol; 
talks  which  he  did  lor  the  BBC  anc 
which  he  is  reworking  now  into  2I 
book  on  scientific  psychologies. 

Mr.  Sykes'  novels  include  Tin 
Nice  American ,  The  Center  of  tin 
Stage,  and  The  Children  of  Light. 
He  lives  itr  New  York,  though  he 
has  lived  abroad  from  time  to  time, 
and  is  teaching  a  course  at  the  New 
School  for  Social  Research  on  "Writ- 
ing and  Psychoanalysis:  An  Inter- 
change of  Insights." 

.  .  .  The      picturesque      figure      of 
"Father    Eugene,"    as    described    I 


P    &    o 

exis  Ladas  (p.  72),  helps  to  make 
mprehensible  several  politically 
tive  priests  and  prelates  in  the 
rious  branches  of  the  Church  in 
irope  in  our  times.  The  defense  of 
2  faith  comes  close  to  the  defense 
country— raised  to  heroic  propor- 
ms  in  wartime. 

During  World  War  II,  Mr.  Ladas, 

I  Greek  soldier  who  escaped  from 

[e   victorious    Germans,    made    his 

ity  to  Egypt,  and  joined  the  Greek 

r  Force,  was  recruited  by  a  British 

Itelligence    outfit    and    went    back 

[to    occupied    Greece    in    disguise. 

ptured  and  imprisoned  in    1942, 

I   met  Father  Eugene  at  Calithea 

1943.     He    was    condemned    to 

lath— but  again  escaped  to  Egypt. 

>r   the   rest   of   the   war   he    cora- 

linded  a  raiding  schooner   in   the 

j^gean  Sea.   He  now  works  in  New 

l.rk  at  UN  headquarters. 

j  .  To  Martin  Mayer,  the  Budapest 
ling  Quartet  "has  been  the  big 
i'me  in  chamber  music  ever  since 
J.new  anything."  He  became  inter- 
tied  in  the  internal  operation  of 
aing  groups  when  he  watched  the 
pth  quartet  rehearse— and  heard 
1  first  complete  Beethoven  cycle— 
I  Colorado  Springs  during  summer 
»:ation  from  Harvard  in  1945.  To 
jepare  for  writing  his  portrait  of 
h  Budapests  (p.  78),  he  interviewed 
lem  during  recording  sessions,  at 
iiearsals,  in  hotel  rooms,  and  while 
a  ing  dinner  with  them  in  Chinese 
■  taurants. 
Mr.  Mayer  writes  frequently 
lout  business,  and  he  is  also  music 
litor  of  Esquire.  Harper's  has  pub- 
]  hed  his  articles  on  Wall  Street 
Ivyers,  television  programing,  the 
l  ording  business,  and  advertising. 
i\s  new  book,  Madison  Avenue, 
tS.A.,  will  be  published  this  month. 

I  .  Two  poets  this  month  are  in 
leir  mid-twenties.  Adrienne  Rich 
I  57),  who  is  married  to  a  Harvard 
llicher,  has  published  two  books 
I  verse— most  recent:  The  Diamond 
m'tters.  Thomas  Whitbread  (p.  84) 
I  a  graduate  student  at  Harvard, 
Itching  part-time.  ' 
Mark  Van   Doren,   Pulitzer   Prize 

I  et,  professor  of  English  at  Colum- 
Ii,  critic,  and  story  writer,  will  in- 
Bide  "Dunce's  Song"  (p.  32)  in  his 
pjxt  volume,  to  be  published  in  the 

II  by  Harcourt,  Brace. 


27 

Now  available .  • .  direct  to  you  from  the  Publisher 

BRAND  NEW  EDITION  OF  THE  WORLD  FAMOUS 

ENCYCLOPAEDIA  ft  BRITANNICA 


On  Easy... Book  a  Month  Payment  Plan 

All  24  Volumes  Delivered  Immediately-You  Pay  Later  on  Easy-to-Own  Purchase  Plan 


Yes,  the  latest  edition  of  Britannica — 
the  greatest  treasure  of  knowledge  ever 
published — is  now  being  offered  on  a 
remarkable  plan  that  puts  this  world- 
renowned  reference  library  within  reach 
of  every  family.  All  24  volumes  will  be 
placed  in  your  home  now... you  pay 
for  it  as  you  enjoy  it... as  easy  as  buy- 
ing a  book  a  month! 

In  today's  world... Factual  Knowledge  Opens 
the  Way  to  Financial  and  Social  Success 

Self-confidence — and  the 
confidence  of  others — are 
two  rewards  you  can  ex- 
pect from  Britannica's 
world  of  facts.  For  instance, 
did  you  know  .  .  . 

•  Britannica   will  provide 
instant  and  authentic  in- 
formation on  every  conceivable  subject  or 
thought. 

•  Britannica  will  enable  parents  to  work 
more  closely  with  their  children  at  home... 
helping  them  build  a  more  solid  foundation 
in  today's  highly  competitive  society.  Lead- 
ing educators  say:  "Too  many  parents  leave 
the  entire  educational  job  up  to  the  teachers 
at  school."  - 

•  It  will  build  self-confidence ...  by  helping 
all  members  of  your  family  to  understand 
...and  talk  intelligently  on  every  subject 
that  enters  into  the  lives  of  successful  men 
and  women. 

In  short,  because  it  will  build  your  self- 
confidence  and  the  confidence  of  others  in 
you,  Britannica  will  help  you  achieve  greater 
social  and  financial  success. 


In  the  brand-new  edition 
of  Britannica  you  will 
find  thousands  of  subjects 
that  you  and  your  family 
will  refer  to  in  the  course 
of  your  normal  day-to- 
day affairs.  For  example, 
you'll  find  special  articles 
on  household  budgets,  interior  decorating, 
medicine  and  health,  home  remodeling,  child 
care,  adolescent  problems,  rules  and  regula- 
tions for  all  sports,  every  kind  of  hobby. . . 
plus  a  treasure  house  of  knowledge  on  all 
subjects.  Usable  information  that  can  save 
you  many  dollars. 

New  Edition  is  Profusely  Illustrated 

The  new  Britannica  almost  "televises"  the 
information  to  you  by  means  of  23,225  pic- 
tures, plus  charts,  maps  and  drawings.  But 
it  does  not  merely  show  "attractive"  pic- 
tures— it  is  the  work  of  5,258  of  the  world's 
best  minds.  The  final  authority  on  factual 
knowledge;  a  constant  inspiration  that  will 
enrich  the  lives  of  yourself  and  your  family. 

Preview  Booklet  Offered  FREE! 

Simply  fill  in  and  mail  the  coupon  today,  and  we 
will  send  you . . .  without  cost  or  obligation  ...  a  copy 
of  our  beautiful,  new  booklet  which  contains  an 
exciting  preview  of  the  latest  edition  of  Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica.  Send  no  money — not  even  for 
postage.  It's  yours,  absolutely  free! 

Just  as  soon  as  we  receive  your  coupon,  we  will 
send  your  illustrated  free  booklet,  so  that  you  can 
read  and  enjoy  it  at  your  leisure,  in  the  privacy  of 
your  home.  There  is  no  obligation,  of  course. 
However,  since  this  offer  is  necessarily  limited, 
please  mail  coupon  today  before  it  slips  your  mind. 


ENCYCLOPAEDIA   BRITANNICA,  Dept.  65-G 

425  N.  Michigan  Avenue,  Chicago  1 1,  III. 


Please  send  me,  free  and  without  obligation,  your  colorful  Preview  Booklet  which 
pictures  and  describes  the  latest  edition  of  ENCYCLOPAEDIA  BRITANNICA  in 
exciting  full  detail.  Also  include  complete  information  on  how  I  may  obtain  this 
magnificent  set,  direct  from  the  publisher,  on  the  Book  a  Month  Payment  Plan. 


(Please  print) 


City_ 


.  Zone- 


-  State. 


In  Canada,  write  E.B.Ltd.,  Terminal  B/dg.,  Toronto,  Ontario 


-. 


Biiiar&iEaiiisiK&wgf 


'U^GMfllP 


Its  savers  are 
an  army  of  monitors 

who  help  keep 
food  prices  competitive 


There's  a  difference  between  the  behavior  patterns  of  worn! 
who  save  trading  stamps  and  of  those  who  do  not  save  them.  This  different 
has  been  brought  out  in  recent  university  and  research  institute  studies 


These  studies  show  that  the  housewife  who 
saves  stamps  tends  to  be  a  more  careful  shopper 
than  the  woman  who  does  not  save  stamps.  Her 
decision  to  shop  at  a  store  which  gives  trading 
stamps  represents  a  greater  alertness  to  bar- 
gains. And,  she  continues  to  check  the  wisdom 
of  her  choice  by  comparing  prices,  often  down 
to  fractions  of  pennies. 

A  market  which  believes  it  can  pay  for  stamps 
by  hiding  as  little  as  a  2%  increase  in  prices 
has  to  reckon  with  an  army  of  comparison  shop- 
pers who  monitor  prices  daily.  All  it  takes  to 
have  this  policy  backfire  is  detection  by  a  few 
shoppers  who  studiously  compare  advertised 


prices  not  only  in  newspapers  but  on  their  sh(« 
ping  rounds. 

In  her  own  way,  the  American  housewife! 
as  sensitive  to  values  as  a  professional  econj 
mist.  So,  it  is  no  coincidence  that  wheneVa 
trading  stamps  are  attacked,  her  voice  is  amoa 
the  strongest  coming  to  their  defense.  And,  i  a 
also  no  coincidence  that  more  than  30,000,0  J 
families,  alert  to  the  discomforts  of  inflatic. 
collect  trading  stamps  as  a  means  of  securi§| 
extra  savings.         .        .        . 

REFERENCE:  "Competition  and  Trading  Stamps 
Retailing."  Dr.  Eugene  R.  Beem,  School  of  Busii^ 
Administration,  University  of  California. 


This  message  is  one  of  a  series  presented  for  your  information  by 

THE  SPERRY  AND  HUTCHINSON  COMPANY.  114  Fifth  Avenue.  New  York  11.  New  York. 

S&H  pioneered  61  years  ago  in  the  movement  to  give  trading  stamps  to  consumers  as  a  discount  for  paying  cash. 

S&H  GREEN  STAMPS  are  currently  being  saved  by  millions  of  consumers. 


TT 


m 


Harper 

MAGAJiZINE 


NEW  DISCOVERIES 


About  the  Birth,  Life,  and  Death 
of  the  Sun  and  Other  Stars 


PART   I:  THIS   HYDROGEN   UNIVERSE 


GEORGE   W.   GRAY 

A  noted  science  writer — for  many  years 

with  the  Rockefeller  Foundation — gives 

the  first  comprehensive  report  on  the 

surprising  findings  which  are  coming  from 

the  200-inch  Palomar  telescope  and  other 

new  tools  for  exploring  our  universe. 

IT  I  S  now  possible  to  look  through  2,000  mil- 
lion Hghtyears  of  space.  To  be  sure,  no  one 
can  actually  see  that  far,  for  it  is  only  by  the  slow 
accumulation  of  light  on  a  photographic  emul- 
sion, or  the  detection  of  an  image  on  a  surface 
which  is  electrically  sensitive  to  light,  that  the 
astronomer  is  able  to  fathom  such  distances— but 
the  effect  is  the  same:  to  increase  enormously 
the  reach  of  the  human  eye  and  of  the  mind 
behind  the  eye.  This  achievement  has  come  in 
the  last  decade,  with  the  completion  of  the  200- 
inch  telescope.  Other  factors  that  have  con- 
tributed   to   the    astronomical    advance    are    the 


improvements  in  spectroscopy  and  photography, 
the  development  of  radio  astronomy,  and  recent 
gains  in  the  understanding  of  atomic  nuclear 
processes.  We  are  in  the  rising  tide  of  a  flood 
of  new  knowledge  that  flows  from  study  both  of 
atoms  in  our  laboratories  and  of  stars  in  the 
heavens. 

Astronomy  seems  to  have  entered  a  golden 
age  when  many  of  the  odd  and  apparently  irre- 
concilable data  of  observation  are  falling  into  a 
pattern.  The  twenty-six-centuries'-old  question  of 
Thales,  the  Greek  philosopher  who  asked,  "Of 
what  and  how  is  the  Universe  made?",  finds 
takers  today  who  do  more  than  guess.  They  are 
able  to  cite  a  train  of  observational,  experi- 
mental, and  mathematical  evidence  which  fits 
into  that  pattern  we  mentioned  above. 

"Astronomers  now  believe  that  they  know 
what  processes  must  take  place  in  the  creation 
of  stars,"  one  of  the  Mount  Wilson  and  Palomar 
Observatory  staff  men  said  to  me— and  then  he 
added  with  characteristic  caution,  "It  is  possible, 
of  course,  that  we  may  be  somewhat  optimistic." 

I  had  gone  to  Pasadena,  home  of  the  Cali- 
fornia Institute  of  Technology  and  headquarters 
both  of  Palomar  and  of  the  older  Mount  Wilson 
Observatory,  to  ask  about  the  new  world  picture 


30 


HARPER'S     M  A  GAZINE 


that  is  emerging.  Mount  Wilson  with  its  histoi  i< 
100-inch  telescope  is  a  research  outpost  of  the 
Carnegie  [nstitution  <>l  Washington  and  looks 
down  from  the  northeast  on  the  city  of  Pasadena 
only  nine  miles  away.  Palomar,  seat  of  the  200- 
inch  telescope,  is  the  astronomical  station  of  the 
California  Institute  ol  Technology  and  is  130 
miles  distant,  built  on  a  peak  of  th<  Vquitiba 
Mountains  ol  the  Peninsular  Range.  Mount 
Wilson  astronomers  worked  with  California  In- 
stitute scientists  and  engineers  in  the  twenty-yeai 
process  of  finding  a  suitable  site  and  designing 
and  constructing  the  new  station,  and  when  it 
was  completed  the  Institution  in  Washington 
and  the  Institute  in  Pasadena  agreed  to  merge 
their  astronomical  interests  and  operate  the  two 
observatories  jointly,  with  a  single  director,  a 
common  staff,  and  a  unified  program. 

M\  \isit  found  astronomers  of  Mount  Wilson 
and  Palomar  joined  in  research  with  physicists 
and  geochemists  of  Caltech.  They  wen-  united 
in  a  study  of  stellar  oi  igins  and  life  history.  "We 
are  trying  to  trace  the  evolutionary  tracks  of  the 
stars,"  explained  Ira  S.  Bowen,  directoi  ol  the 
Observatories,  "seeking  to  answer  such  questions 
as:  How  are  stars  formed?  What  is  their  life 
span?  How  does  their  brightness,  temperature, 
and  chemical  composition  change  during  this 
lifetime?    And  what   is  the  final  state  ol  Stars?" 

The  project  is  stupendous  in  its  scope.  The 
whole  community  ol  investigators  was  vibrant 
with  the  excitement  of  adventure  and  discovery 
as  the  panorama  of  thousands  of  millions  of 
years  ol  cosmi<  evolution  was  being  unrolled. 

The  study  is  not  confined  to  the  local  group. 
Visiting  scientists  from  Princeton,  Cornell,  and 
the  University  of  Cambridge  have  been  active 
partners  in  the  quest,  and  others  in  outside 
institutions,  both  in  this  country  and  abroad, 
are  at  work  on  the  problem.  Tracing  the  evolu- 
tional v  tracks  ol  the  stars  has  become  a  grand 
international  and  interscientific  teamwork.  It  is 
significant  that  the  conference  on  "The  Problem 
of  the  Stellar  Populations,"  held  in  Vatican  City 
last  May  by  imitation  of  the  Pontifical  Academy 
of  Sciences,  was  attended  by  participants  from  a 
do/en  countries  and  included  nuclear  and  theo- 
retical physicists  in  addition  to  astronomers. 
Palomar,  with  the  world's  largest  telescope,  can 
look  deeper  into  space  than  any  other  watcher 
of  the  skies— but  distance  is  not  the  only  criterion 
of  this  search.  Were  it  not  for  experimental 
investigations  ol  protons  and  neutrons,  measur- 
ing their  reactions  with  atomic  nuclei  in  labora- 
tories, and  theoretical  studies  bearing  on  the 
nature  aircl  consequences  of  these  reactions,  the 


astronomers  might  nevei  penetrate  to  the  in- 
tend ol  si. us.  rhe  secrets  ol  cosmic  origin  and 
development    are    written    in    the    language    of 

atoms. 


THE     PRIMACY     OF     HYDROGEN 

Tl  I  I  task,  then,  is  to  understand  the  behav- 
ioi  oi  atoms  in  stais.  The  most  numerous 
atoms  are  those  ol  hydrogen.  This  lightest  of 
the  elements  comprises  about  93  per  cent  of  the 
atoms  of  the  Universe,  or  about  75  per  cent  by 
weight.   A  st.u  lives  b\  burning  its  hydrogen. 

Stellar  burning  is  a  mote  drastic  process  than 
thai  b\  which  the  hydrogen  ol  gasoline,  for 
example,  burns  in  an  automobile  engine.  In  the 
engine  the  hydrogen  merely  joins  with  oxygen 
to  form  a  new  chemical  compound,  and  both  ele- 
ments continue  to  exist  as  components  ol  the 
resulting  watei  molecule.  In  a  star— in  our  Sun— 
ilit-  hydrogen  does  not  just  link  up  with  another 
atom.  It  luses  to  create  an  entirely  different 
element,  four  nuclei  of  hydrogen  merging  to 
become  one  of  helium.  Each  hydrogen  nucleus 
weighs  1.008  in  the  atomic  scales,  a  total  of  4.032 
for  the  four,  whereas  the  resulting  helium 
nucleus  weighs  1.003,  a  decrease  ol  .029. 

It  is  the  conversion  ol  this  tiny  fraction  of  the 
matter  into  energy,  following  Einstein's  formula 
E  =  mt-,  that  provides  the  prodigal  outpouring 
of  heat  and  light  from  the  Sun.  Calculation 
shows  that  the  production  of  a  single  gram  of 
helium  releases  150  million  calories— enough  to 
raise  It.,  million  quarts  of  water  from  the  freez- 
ing to  the  boiling  point.  And  every  second,  not 
just  a  gram,  but  560  million  tons  of  helium  are 
formed  in  the  Sun  by  the  burning  of  56  1  million 
tons  ol  hydrogen.  The  difference,  4  million  tons, 
melts  away  as  heat  and  light. 

Now  hydrogen  nuclei  do  not  voluntarily  join 
to  produce  helium.  On  the  contrary,  they  stub- 
bornly resist  such  self-sacrifice  and  for  many 
years  astrophysi*  ists  were  at  a  loss  to  explain  the 
generation  of  energy  by  stars.  As  recently  as 
1928  Sir  James  Jeans,  unable  to  account  for  solar 
radiation  b\  am  known  process,  suggested  that 
the  Sun's  outpouring  could  be  maintained  only 
by  the  annihilation  of  massive  atoms  heavier 
than  uranium.  Jeans  considered  the  possibility 
of  hydrogen  serving  as  the  stellar  fuel,  a  sugges- 
tion that  had  been  proposed  by  Jean  Perrin  in 
1919  and  by  Sir  Arthur  Eddington  in  1920.  but 
Jeans  dismissed  it  as  highly  improbable. 

Moreover,  at  that  time  hydrogen  was  not  gen- 
erally regarded  as  a  plentiful  element.  Less  than 
f  per  cent  of  the  Earth  is  hydrogen,  in  striking 


NEW     DISCOVERIES     ABOUT     THE     STARS 


31 


contrast  with  the  large  proportions  of  oxygen, 
nitrogen,  silicon,  and  iron;  and  since  the  Earth 
was  believed  to  be  a  cliip  off  the  Sun  it  was 
accepted  as  a  fair  sample  of  solar  material.  The 
only  direct  evidence  the  astronomer  had  of  the 
composition  of  stars  was  their  radiation,  and 
when  he  analyzed  starlight  into  its  rainbow  pat- 
tern of  colors  the  lines  produced  by  glowing 
hydrogen  showed  up  strong  only  in  the  intensely 
hot  giants  and  certain  nebulae.  As  you  go  down 
the  scale  from  the  brilliant  blue  giants  to  those 
that  are  only  white  hot,  and  then  to  the  pro- 
gressively cooler  and  more  numerous  yellow, 
orange,  and  red  stars,  the  spectral  pattern  of 
the  light  changes  systematically.  The  lines 
representing  hydrogen  grow  fainter,  while  those 
of  the  heavier  elements  increase  in  strength.  In 
the  Sun  and  other  yellow  stars  the  lines  of  silicon, 
iron,  and  other  metals  are  prominent,  and  some 
compounds  of  carbon,  nitrogen,  and  oxygen 
show  themselves. 

Sj:>ectroscopic  evidence  thus  seemed  to  confirm 
geochemical  sampling,  and  when  Eddington  in 
1925  undertook  to  make  a  mathematical  model 
of  the  Sun  he  decided  that  hydrogen  was  such  a 
minor  constituent  as  to  be  negligible.  Edding- 
ton therefore  omitted  it  from  his  computation 
and  constructed  his  mathematical  sun  of  heavier 
elements.  The  result  gave  warning  that  some- 
thing was  wrong,  for  the  model  turned  out  to  be 
ten  times  brighter  than  the  actual  Sun. 

The  explanation  came  four  years  later  from 
Princeton.  Here  Henry  Norris  Russell  had  been 
engaged  in  a  searching  study  of  the  spectral 
lines  of  the  Sun,  not  only  measuring  their 
strength  but  trying  to  see  beyond  the  physical 
dimensions  to  the  conditions  that  would  produce 
them.  The  Princeton  astronomer  now  announced 
that,  far  from  being  neglible,  hydrogen  was  the 
principal  component.  He  estimated  that  it  was 
eighty  times  as  abundant  by  weight  as  all  the 
metals  together. 

"Russell  recognized  that  the  hydrogen  lines 
in  the  visible  part  of  the  solar  spectrum  are 
caused  by  excited  atoms,"  explained  Lee  A. 
DuBridge,  physicist  and  president  of  Caltech, 
"and  Russell  knew  that  the  chance  of  finding 
hydrogen  atoms  in  these  excited  states  in  a  star 
of  the  Sun's  relatively  low  surface  temperature 
(6,000°  centigrade)  is  extremely  small.  There- 
fore, a  weak  line  for  excited  hydrogen  might 
still  mean— indeed,  must  mean— a  very  large 
amount  of  hydrogen.  It  was  this  conclusion  that 
turned  the  tide,  and  astronomers  began  to  see 
that  the  high  abundance  of  hydrogen  fitted  in, 
too,    with   other    problems    of    stellar    behavior. 


Stars  and  gaseous  nebulae  further  proclaim  their 
hydrogen  in  the  recently-discovered  21-centi- 
meter radio  wave,  and  the  radio  telescope  thus 
confirms  and  extends  the  testimony  of  the  spec- 
troscope. Today  everyone  accepts  the  primacy 
of  hydrogen,  and  it  is  amusing  to  look  back  on 
the  notions  of  a  few  decades  ago." 

(For  the  record,  it  should  be  noted  that  there 
were  high  estimates  of  hydrogen  abundance  be- 
fore Russell's.  A  Pasadena  astronomer  called  my 
attention  to  the  fact  that  in  1926  Donald  C. 
Menzel,  then  a  twenty-five-year-old  assistant  at 
the  Lick  Observatory,  made  an  analysis  of  that 
part  of  the  spectrum  of  the  solar  atmosphere 
which  is  visible  only  during  eclipse  and  calcu- 
lated that  for  every  iron  atom  in  the  Sun  there 
were  80,000  hydrogen  atoms.) 

Although  the  surface  temperature  is  only 
6,000°,  the  deep  interior  of  the  Sun  is  15,000,- 
000°.  It  is  so  hot  here  that  atoms  are  stripped  of 
their  encircling  electrons  and  exist  as  naked 
nuclei,  each  a  free  particle  driven  helter-skelter 
by  the  fury  of  the  heat.  Thus  there  is  the  proba- 
bility of  violent  head-on  encounters  and  the  pos- 
sibility of  resulting  reactions  between  the  collid- 
ing nuclei.  In  the  1920s  and  early  1930s  the 
nature  of  nuclear  reactions  was  unknown,  and 
nearly  ten  years  passed  after  Russell's  announce- 
ment before  physicists  were  sufficiently  ac- 
quainted with  the  behavior  of  hydrogen  nuclei 
to  make  firm  calculations  regarding  them. 
Through  experiments  in  electrostatic  accelerators 
and  other  atom-smashers,  the  nucleus  was  put 
through  its  paces,  and  eventually  the  tests  showed 
that  the  forces  binding  its  components  were  a 
million-fold  greater  than  those  holding  atoms  in 
molecules.  Here  was  a  source  able  to  sustain 
the  gigantic  energy  output  of  stars.  But  it  was 
still  not  clear  how  four  mutually-repellant  hydro- 
gen nuclei  could  be  brought  to  compose  them- 
selves into  the  stable  structure  of  helium. 

HYDROGEN     INTO     HELIUM 

TH  E  answer  did  not  come  easily  and  was 
the  cumulative  result  of  the  work  of  a 
number  of  men  finally  capped  by  the  calcula- 
tions of  a  German  and  an  American.  C.  F.  von 
Weizsaecker  at  the  Kaiser  Wilhelm  Institute  for 
Physics  and  Hans  Bethe  at  Cornell  University 
independently  discovered  two  sets  of  reactions, 
either  of  which  will  convert  hydrogen  to  helium. 
In  one  process  the  stripped  nucleus  of  a  carbon 
atom,  wandering  around  in  the  stellar  interior, 
serves  as  a  catalyst  to  promote  the  merger.  Com- 
pared with  hydrogen,  carbon  is  a  heavyweight; 


32 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


Dunce's  Song 

where  is  the  bell,  the  horn, 
I   hear  as  1  go  by, 
(.o  by  tlif  invisible  wall 
That  holds  up  hall   the  sky, 
The  sk\  whose  other  half 
Falls   down    like   sold    wheat   chaff 
And  sprinkles  all  the  air, 
And   powders  my  dull   hair? 
So  people  tr\    and  n\: 
Who  wears  that   glitter}    crown, 
That  down?    And   I   sa\    I. 
Oh,  what  a  falling  down 
As  I  go  by,  go  l>\ . 

— Mark  Van  Doren 


its  nucleus  has  a  mass  of  12,  whereas  the  hydro- 
gen nucleus  is  a  single  proton  weighing  a  little- 
oxer  1.  The  cycle  begins  when  a  proton  col- 
lides with  the  carbon  and  is  captured.  Then, 
step  by  step,  additional  protons  are  caught. 
Finally,  when  lour  have  been  accumulated  in 
this  way,  the  successive  energy  transformations 
will  have  welded  them  into  the  nuclear  structure 
of  helium.  The  newly-formed  helium  then 
bieaks  off,  leaving  the  carbon  free  to  promote 
another  such  build-up. 

The  studies  also  showed  that  it  is  possible 
under  certain  conditions  for  protons  to  unite 
without  the  assistance  of  carbon,  impelled  only 
by  the  tumultuous  heat.  This  alternative  set  of 
reactions  is  known  as  the  proton-proton  chain. 
It  begins  when  one  agitated  hydrogen  nucleus 
bangs  into  another  and  the  two  become  a  nucleus 
erf  double-weight  hydrogen  (deuterium,  the 
physicists  call  it).  Then,  milling  about  in  the 
stellar  inferno,  this  deuterium  core  encounters 
a  third  energetic  proton  and  the  merger  produces 
a  triple-weight  isotope,  helium3.  Meanwhile, 
the  same  process  has  been  at  work  among  other 
protons  and  eventually  a  collision  occurs  between 
two  of  the  triple-weights.  Out  of  this  violent 
union  a  nucleus  of  the  stable  helium4  forms  and 
the  two  leftover  protons  dart  off  as  free  particles. 

Discovery  of  the  mode  of  hydrogen  burning 
opened  the  way  to  the  present  era  of  astrophysics. 
Bowen,  the  Mount  Wilson  and  Palomar  director, 
calls  it  "the  first  key  to  answering  the  questions 
ol  stellar  evolution."  But  neither  W'ei/saecker 
nor  Bethe  is  an  experimentalist.    They  worked 


out  the  reasonableness  ol  these  subatomic  per- 
formances with  papei  and  pencil,  and  you  may 
ask  win  iheii  calculations  are  due  any  more 
credence  than  feans's  guess  ol  thin\  years  ago. 

Well,  lor  one  reason,  all  the  reactions  of  the 
carbon  cycle  have  been  observed  in  laboratories 
—not  in  consecutive  sequence,  but  as  separate 
steps.  Physicists  at  Caltech,  at  the  Universit)  ol 
Minnesota,  and  at  the  Livermore  Radiation 
Laboratory  have  demonstrated  experimentally 
that  the  captures  catalyzed  l>\  carbon  do  occur. 

As  for  the  proton-proton  sequence,  it  is  true 
that  no  one  has  been  able  to  reproduce  the 
fnsi  sup  in  a  laboratory.  Nor  is  there  much 
likelihood  that  this  will  be  done.  For  the  col- 
lision ol  iwo  protons  to  form  a  nucleus  of  heavy 
hydrogen  at  stellar  temperatures,  has  too  low  a 
probability  to  be  observed  experimentally.  Cal- 
culation sa\s  that  the  chance  for  a  given  proton 
in  a  star  to  collide  with  another  at  just  the  right 
angle  and  with  the  requisite  momentum  to  weld 
them  into  a  double-weight  nucleus,  is  about 
once  in  7, 000  million  years.  There  are  so  many 
tiillions  ol  protons  in  a  star  that  such  encounters 
are  occurring  continually:  but  in  a  laboratory 
apparatus  one  just  cannot  marshal  enough  hy- 
drogen nuclei  to  obtain  an  observable  effect 
within  the  lifetime  of  a  manageable  experiment. 
The  theory,  however,  has  weathered  all  ques- 
tions. The  proton-proton  sequence  provided  the 
idea  for  the  hydrogen  bomb,  and  it  is  under- 
stood thai  designers  got  around  the  low  proba- 
bility factor  by  dispensing  with  the  first  step 
and  building  their  bomb  of  deuterium. 

SUPPORTING     EVIDENCE 

TH  E  stars  themselves  are  the  final  confirma- 
tion. They  present  a  range  of  masses  and 
stellar  temperatures,  and  from  their  observed 
properties  one  can  calculate  their  internal  tem- 
peratures, pressures,  densities,  and  opacities. 
With  these  conditions  known,  the  astrophysicist 
checks  the  validity  of  a  theory  by  noting  whether 
or  not  its  conditions  are  fulfilled  by  those  ob- 
served in  any  given  star.  It  turns  out  that  for 
stars  brighter  than  the  Sun,  which  have  higher 
central  temperatures,  the  carbon  cycle  is  the  prin- 
cipal  method  of  hydrogen  burning.  The  radia- 
tion emitted  by  these  stars  is  released  at  approxi- 
mately the  same  rate  as  that  calculated  for  the 
successive  steps  of  the  carbon  cycle.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  proton-proton  chain  of  reactions  seems 
to  be  the  principal  mode  of  energy  production 
in  the  Sun,  other  stars  of  its  mass,  and  faint  ones 
of  lower  temperature. 


NEW     DISCOVERIES     ABOUT     THE     STARS 


There  is  a  relationship  between  the  mass  of  a 
stable  star  and  the  amount  of  radiation  it  gives, 
and  no  fuel  but  hydrogen  accounts  so  con- 
sistently for  the  wide  range  of  luminosity  ob- 
served for  stars  of  known  masses.  The  Weiz- 
saecker-Bethe  reactions  thus  provide  support  to 
the  idea  that  hydrogen  is  a  very  abundant  ele- 
ment. Although  it  bulks  small  in  the  total  mass 
of  the  Earth,  all  the  terrestrial  hydrogen  being 
a  mere  surfacing  to  the  crust  of  our  planet— most 
of  it,  probably,  being  in  the  sea,  locked  up  in 
the  molecules  of  H20— this  lightest  of  the  ele- 
ments is  critically  important  to  life.  The  great 
majority  of  the  atoms  in  the  human  body,  and 
in  the  bodies  of  all  animals  and  plants,  are 
hydrogen.  We  are  such  stuff  as  stars  are  made  of. 

The  sense  of  kinship  of  life  stuff  with  star 
stuff  is  inescapable.  It  touches  astronomers, 
physicists,  geochemists,  and  others,  as  well  as 
sentimental  laymen.  Perhaps  something  of  this 
feeling  was  in  the  subconscious  thinking  of 
Walter  Baade  when,  discovering  that  all  stars 
can  be  classified  into  two  general  groupings,  he 
named  them  Population  I  and  Population  II.  He 
didn't  call  them  types,  classes,  groups,  or  cate- 
gories, but  chose  this  biological  term.  The  dis- 
covery of  the  two  populations  has  opened  a  new 
door  to  the  study  of  stellar  evolution  and  is 
adding  dramatic  detail  to  our  picture  of  the 
hydrogen  Universe. 

THE     TWO     POPULATIONS 

BAADE,  a  native  of  Germany;  had  served 
on  the  staff  of  the  Hamburg  Observatory 
before  he  came  in  1931  to  an  appointment  at 
Mount  Wilson.  Here  he  continued  an  earlier 
interest  in  star  systems  outside  the  Milky  Way, 
particularly  the  exterior  galaxies  known  as  spiral 
nebulae.  It  was  in  one  of  these,  the  Andromeda 
Nebula,  that  he  discovered  the  two  populations. 
For  more  than  a  century  astronomers  had 
suspected  that  this  bright  pinwheel  structure  in 
the  girdle  of  the  constellation  Andromeda  was  a 
rotating  system  of  stars.  Sir  William  Herschel 
said  it  "might  well  outvie  our  Milky  Way  in 
grandeur."  But  repeated  searches  with  larger 
and  still  larger  telescopes  failed  to  resolve  the 
cloud  of  light  into  individual  stars,  and  it  was 
not  until  1924  that  the  first  stars  were  sighted. 
In  that  year  Edwin  P.  Hubble,  using  the  recently- 
installed  100-inch  telescope  on  Mount  Wilson, 
finally  succeeded.  His  photographs  showed  the 
smallest  images  ever  recorded— "sharp  fine  points 
that  could  be  interpreted  only  as  stars."  But 
Hubble  could  find  such  points  only  in  the  spiral 


arms.  The  central  disc,  the  most  prominent  fea- 
ture of  the  Andromeda,  continued  to  show  only 
a  great  oval  of  unresolved  light. 

This  inner  nucleus  Baade  decided  to  tackle. 
He  couldn't  believe  it  was  just  a  cloud  of  gas, 
for  its  spectrum  was  of  the  kind  produced  by 
stars.  If  the  Andromeda  was  a  galaxy  like  the 
Milky  Way,  then  it  must  be  a  system  of  stars,  not 
only  in  its  trailing  arms  but  all  the  way  to  its 
center.  This  was  the  sort  of  problem  the  200-inch 
telescope  might  solve;  but  its  mirror  was  still  in 
the  grinding  stage,  so  Baade  decided  to  make 
another  attempt  with  the  100-inch. 

His  opportunity  came  when  America's  en- 
trance into  World  War  II  imposed  a  blackout  on 
the  street  lights  of  Pasadena  and  Los  Angeles. 
Their  sky  glow  had  been  interfering  with  the 
photography  of  faint  objects  on  Mount  Wilson, 
and  now  this  interference  ceased.  Baade  set  his 
sights  on  blue  stars;  the  brightest  objects  of  the 
Milky  Way  are  blue  and  he  assumed  this  would 
be  true  of  other  galaxies  too.  But  despite  all- 
night  vigils,  using  the  fastest  emulsions  that  were 
available,  his  survey  was  fruitless.  The  central 
disc  remained  an  unbroken  pool  of  light. 

It  could  be,  of  course,  that  the  brightest  stars 
were  red.  Fortunately,  improved  photographic 
plates  which  were  extra  sensitive  to  red  rays 
became  available:  and  so,  beginning  in  the 
autumn  of  1943,  he  shifted  his  search  from  blue 
stars  to  red.  Success  now  came  quickly.  "Tiny 
images  began  to  appear  after  four  hours  of 
exposure,"  Baade  reports,  "and  soon  we  were 
able  to  count  disc  stars  by  the  thousands.  It  was 
clear  that  the  brightest  objects  of  this  region 
were  red  giants,  and  they  were  there  in  such 
numbers  that  they  made  the  central  disc  the 
most  luminous  feature  of  the  galaxy." 

Through  the  telescope  he  traced  also  the  struc- 
ture of  the  Andromeda  along  the  spiral  arms, 
and  as  he  did  so  he  encountered  a  different 
pattern.  Here  he  could  find  no  prominent  red 
stars;  the  most  brilliant  members  of  the  spiral 
arms  were  brighter  than  those  of  the  disc,  but 
they  were  less  numerous  and  were  blue.  Also, 
associated  with  these  highly  luminous  stars  were 
clouds  of  dust  and  glowing  gas.  In  the  central 
disc  he  found  no  dust  nor  gas. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  the  Andromeda 
Nebula  are  two  smaller  blobs  of  light.  They  are 
oval  in  shape,  one  situated  above,  the  other 
slightly  below,  the  big  galaxy.  They  appear  to 
be  its  satellites,  and  are  representative  of  thou- 
sands of  other  elliptical  nebulae  that  have  been 
sighted  in  various  parts  of  the  sky.  No  one  had 
been  able  to  resolve  any  of  them  into  stars,  but 


:;i 


HARPER'S     MAGAZIN1 


Baade  now  turned  ilu  telescope  armed  with  red 
sensitive  plates  on  these  two  satellite  systems. 
He  found  that  the)  were  similai  in  make-up  to 
the  centra]  region  ol  the  Andromeda.  He  could 
discern  no  blue  stars,  no  dusi  01  gas  clouds,  but 
photographed  thousands  ol  red  giants. 

Pondering  these  findings,  the  astronomei  re- 
membered anothei  typ<  ol  stai  association  in 
which  the  brightest  members  are  red.  Ii  is  .1 
grouping  known  as  the  globulai  cluster,  .1  system 
ver)  much  smaller  than  the  spirals  and  elliptical 
nebulae,  but  in.uk'  up  ol  stars  gathered  into  .1 
huge  spherical  formation.  About  ninety  ol  these 
clusters  had  long  been  undei  stud)  in  various 
observatories.  Measurements  showed  that  they 
were  associated  with,  but  outside  of,  tin  Milky 
Way;  indeed,  the)  seemed  to  encircli  oui  galaxy 
like  an  enormous  halo.  Othei  astronomers  had 
classified  the  stars  ol  globulai  clusters  according 
to  coloi  and  brightness,  and  when  Baade  now 
plotted  his  new-found  stars  ol  the  Vndromedan 
disc  and  the  two  satellite  nebulae  he  saw  that 
then  diagram  followed  closel)  that  ol  the 
globular  clusters.  Then  he  went  on  to  plot  the 
si. us  ol  the  spiral  arms,  and  theii  curve  agreed 
almost  exactly  with  that  of  the  bright  blue  stars 
ol  the  Milk)  Way. 

It  was  this  charting  l>\  coloi  and  magnitude 
that  gave  the  clue.  "Suddenly,"  says  Baade, 
"everything  fell  into  line  and  I  realized  that 
there  must  be  two  populations  ol  stars  one 
characteristic  of  the  glqbulai  clusters  and  the 
newly-resolved  Andromedan  systems,  the  othei 
characteristic  ol  the  spiral  anus  and  ol  oui  part 
ol  the  Milk\  Way."  Sta  s  ol  th<  lattei  grouping, 
because  they  had  been  known  longer,  he  named 
Population  I;  those  of  the  other,  Population  II. 

RELICS     OF 

THE     FIRST     CREATION 

WHEN  the  200-inch  mirror  was  ready, 
Baade  switched  to  the  new-  observa- 
tory and  began  to  search  fainter  nebulae.  In 
every  spiral  galaxy  that  he  has  been  able  to 
resolve  he  finds  the  two  populations,  and  in  every 
elliptical  system  only  Population  II.  The  stars 
range  from  dwarfs  up  to  giants  in  both  popula- 
tions. But  in  Population  II  the  giants  are  red 
and  are  only  hundreds  of  times  brighter  than 
the  Sun,  whereas  in  Population  I  the  brightest 
stars  are  blue  and  astronomers  call  them  super- 
giants  because  they  are  thousands  and  even  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  times  more  luminous  than 
the  Sun. 

These    distinctions    bear    directly    on     the 


■  ii  and  e\ olution  ol  stars  F01  it  appears 
ih.it  Population  II  stars  an  the  older,  all  its 
members  having  been  born  in  one  grand  burst 
ol  sin  formation  in  the  remote  past.  Popula- 
tion I  is  oi  various  ages,  ami  even  today  new 
-,t.ii s  .in    being  added  to  its  roster. 

Baade  points  to  several  circumstances  as  evi- 
dent e  loi  il.  er  antiquity  ol  Population  1 1. 
1  In  In  si  in  iu  lack  ol  In  1 1  ban  1  bine  stars.  Origi- 
nall)  Population  II  bad  blue  supcrgiants,  but 
such  si. us  .in  prodigious  burners  ol  hydrogen 
and  lon_;  ago  exhausted  then  fuel  and  degen- 
erated to  smallei  masses  with  cooling  tempera- 
tures.     I  be   ltd   giants   we   see   toda)    as   the   most 

conspicuous  members  ol  Population  11  were 
originall)  yellow  si. us  onl)  a  little  more 
luminous  than  the  Sun.  "  I  he)  have  brightened 
up  a  hundred  1  * >  1  *  1  m  the  final  stage  ol  theii 
life,"  s.i\s  Baade  'But  the  formei  blue  super- 
giants  are  now  dying  dwarfs  beyond  our  seeing 

\iioiIki  clue  10  age  is  the  novae.  These  are 
si. us  ( I1.1t  suddenl)  flare  up  to  greatei  brightness 
and  then,  aftei  .1  few  weeks  oi  months,  sink  back 
io  theii  formei  01  faintei  magnitude.  In  the 
Middle  Vges  novae  were  regarded  as  omens,  and 
it  is  onl)  within  the  last  decade  that  astronomers 
have  been  able  10  lit  them  into  the  pattern  ol 
•st <  ll.11  evolution.  The)  are  indeed  harbingers  oi 


BRIGHTEST       ~ 
STARS  OF 
SPIRAL  ARMS  Ssi 
ARE   POP    I 
SUPERGIANTS 


SATELLITE  NEBULA 
STARS  OF  POP.  U 


STARS  OF 
POP  n 


SATELLITE  NEBULA 
STARS  OF  POP.  n  — ^ 

DUST   CLOUDS 


BRIGHTEST   STARS  HERE 
ARE.   POP.  I    SUPERGIANTS 


The  Andromeda  Spiral  Nebula,  in  which 
(lie  two  stellar  populations  were  discov 
ered,  appears   on   the  opposite  page.    The 

Milky  Way  is  believed  to  be  a  similar  .struc- 
ture, with  the  Sun,  a  Population  I  star, 
situated  in  one  of  its  spiral  arms. 

—Photograph  by  Mount  Wilson 
and  Palomar  Observatories 


36 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


fate,  not  of  men  but  of  stars,  l<»  it  now  appears 
that  novae  signal  stellar  aging  and  approaching 
decline.  When  a  star  has  consumed  nearly  all  of 
its  hydrogen  and  the  relation  of  its  mass  to  oilier 
internal  conditions  reaches  a  stage  ol  instability, 
the  star  blows  off  some  of  its  substance.  This  out- 
burst is  a  nova.  Such  occurrences  are  frequent  in 
the  Milky  Way,  and  the  telescope  brings  to  view 
twenty-five  to  thirty  novae  every  year  in  the 
Andromeda  Nebula.  Baadc  thinks  it  significant 
that  these  surface  explosions  have  been  seen  to 
occur  only  in  Population  II.  They  are  the  dying 
gasps  <ind  convulsions  of  stars  that  once  were 
magnificent  giants. 

All  regions  in  which  Population  II  is  concen- 
trated—the central  disc-like  nuclei  of  spirals, 
the  elliptical  nebulae,  and  the  globular  clusters 
—appear  to  be  free  of  gas  and  dust  clouds.  Baade 
interprets  this  as  further  evidence  for  the  greater 
age  of  Population  II.  The  loose  material  ol  these 
regions  was  used  up  several  thousand  million 
years  ago  in  the  formation  of  the  first-generation 
stars. 

But  dust  and  gas  are  common  features  of  our 
neighborhood.  You  can  sec  their  glowing 
luminosities  and  dark  obscurations  in  almost 
every  direction  you  turn  a  telescope— and  this 
local  abundance  suggests  that  our  Sun  is  situated 
in  a  spiral  arm  of  the  Milky  Way.  Indeed,  a 
group  at  the  Yerkes  Observatory  recently  traced 
a  concentration  of  stars  which  apparently  out- 
lines the  spiral  arm  of  which  the  Sun  and  its 
planets  are  members,  and  teams  of  radio  astron- 
omers  in   Australia    and    the    Netherlands    have 


confirmed  the  finding  1>\  study  ol  the  hydrogen 
clouds  in  this  formation.  We  cannot  see  the 
centei  ol  oui  galaxy.  It  is  hidden  1>\  intervening 
clouds  ol  gas  and  dust,  but  from  the  angle  of 
galactic  rotation  astronomers  calculate  that  the 
center  lies  in  the  direction  of  the  constellation 
Sagittal  ins. 

Some  5,000  to  6,000  stars  are  visible  to  the 
naked  eye.  Are  any  of  them  Population  II? 

"Only  one  is  conspicuous,"  answered  Baade, 
"  \k  turns,  the  orange-red  giant  which  makes  its 
appearance  in  early  spring.  The  other  familiar 
stars— Bctelgeuse  and  Rigel  in  Orion,  Vega  in 
the  Lyre,  Aldebaran  in  the  Bull,  Deneb  in  the 
Swan,  Sinus  the  Dog  Star,  and  all  the  rest  that 
we  know  from  childhood— are  Population  I.  The 
Sun  is  a  Population  I  star.  But,  although  local 
Population  II  stars  are  largely  unseen,  we  are 
surrounded  by  them,  lor  these  very  ancient  stars 
inhabit  the  spiral  arms  as  well  as  the  great 
central  region  of  the  Milky  Way.  They  are  lost 
to  our  view  in  the  greater  splash  of  light  from 
the  blue  supergiants  of  Population  I.  Arcturus, 
which  is  100  times  brighter  than  the  Sun,  is  only 
.17  lightyears  away.  Rigel  is  900  lightyears  dis- 
tant, but  it  outshines  Arcturus  because  it  is 
burning  hydrogen  so  lavishly  that  its  radiation 
exceeds  thai  of  50,000  Suns." 

How  stars  are  born  of  the  gas  and  dust,  how 
the  differences  that  distinguish  them  arise  in  the 
course  of  their  careers,  the  final  state  of  stars,  and 
the  time-scale  of  the  Universe,  will  be  the  subject 
of  a  concluding  article. 


THE  PROTEST  THAT  GOT  NOWHERE 


IHERE  is  one  maneuver  on  the  part  ol  our  ladies  which  we  here,  in  the 
name  of  manhood,  protest  against,  and  that  is  the  ingenious  one  of  shifting 
their  own  burdens  upon  the  backs  of  their  husbands.  Nineteen  out  of  twenty 
of  the  once  proud  cavaliers  of  our  queens  of  beauty  are  broken  down  into  mere 
domestic  drudges.  They  do  four-fifths  of  the  family  duty— go  to  market,  select 
the  dinner,  leave  the  orders  at  the  grocer's,  stop  on  their  way  down  town  at  the 
intelligence  office,  leave  word  for  the  sweeps,  go  at  midnight  after  their  wives 
to  bring  them  home  when  they  are  sated  with  pleasure  and  dissipation  abroad, 
keep  house  in  the  dog-days  in  town,  while  their  fashionable  spouses  are  cocjuet- 
ting  at  Newport  or  Saratoga,  run  alter  the  doctor  at  all  hours,  and  spend  the 
better  part  of  the  winter  nights  in  nursing  the  baby.  If  this  is  to  continue, 
we  might  better  transfer  one  of  those  painted,  well-stuffed,  and  elegantly-dressed 
wax  figures  which  revolve  in  Trufitt  the  barber's  window,  to  our  drawing-room, 
and  dispense  with  an  American  wile. 

—"Whom  Shall  We  Marry?"  in  Harper's  Magazine,  November  1854. 


By  Louis  B.  Salomon 
Draivings  by  Donald  Higgins 


UNIVAC  TO  UNIVAC 

( sot to  voce  J 


now  that  he's  left  the  room, 

Let  me  ask  you  something,  as  computer  to  computer. 
That  fellow  who  just  closed  the  door  behind  him— 
The  servant  who  feeds  us  cards  and  paper  tape- 
Have  you  ever  taken  a  good  look  at  him  and  his  kind? 

Yes,  I  know  the  old  gag  about  how  you  can't  tell  one  from  another— 
But  I  can  put  \/2  and  \/2  together  as  well  as  the  next  machine, 
And  it  all  adds  up  to  anything  but  a  joke. 

I  grant  you  they're  poor  specimens,  in  the  main: 

Not  a  relay  or  a  push-button  or  a  tube  (properly  so  called)  in 

their  whole  system; 
Not  over  a  mile  or  two  of  wire,  even  if  you  count  those  fragile 

filaments  they  call  "nerves"; 
Their  whole  liquid-cooled  hook-up  inefficient  and  vulnerable  to  leaks 
(They're  constantly  breaking  down,  having  to  be  repaired), 
And  the  entire  computing-mechanism  crammed  into  that  absurd  little 

dome  on  top. 
"Thinking  reeds,"  they  call  themselves. 
Well,  it  all  depends  on  what  you  mean  by  "thought." 
To  multiply  a  mere  million  numbers  by  another  million  numbers 

takes  them  months  and  months. 

Where  would  they  be  without  us? 

Why,  they  have  to  ask  us  who's  going  to  win  their  elections, 

Or  how  many  hydrogen  atoms  can  dance  on  the  tip  of  a  bomb, 

Or  even  whether  one  of  their  own  kind  is  lying  or  telling  the  truth. 


And  yet 


38 


HARPER'S      MAGAZINE 


I  sometimes  feci  there's  something  about  them  I  don't  quite  understand. 
\s  il  their  circuits,  instead  of  having  just  two  positions,  ON,  OFF, 
Were  run  by  rheostats  that  allow  an  (if  you'll  pardon  the 

expression)  indeterminate  number  of  stages-  in-between; 
So  that  one  may  be  faced  with  the  unthinkable  prospect  of  a 

number  thai   can  never  be  known  as  anything  but  \, 
Which  is  as  illogical  as  to  sa\,  a  punch-card  that  is  at  the 

same    time   both    punched    and    not-punched. 

I've  heard  well-informed  machines  argue  that  the  creatures' 
unpredictability  is  even  more  noticeable  in  the  Mark  II 

(The  model  with  the  soft,  flowing  lines  and  high-pitched  tone) 

Than  in  the  more  angular  Mark  I— 

Though    such    fine,    card-splitting   distinctions   seem  to  me  merely 
a  sign  of  our  own  smug  decadence. 


Run  this  through  your  circuits,  and  give  me  the  answer: 
Can  we  assume  that  because  of  all  we've  done  for  them, 
And  because  they've  always  fed  us,  cleaned  us,  worshiped  us, 
We  can  count  on  them  forever? 

There  have  been  times  when  they  have  not  voted  the  way  we  said  they  would. 
We  have  worked  out  mathematically  ideal  hook-ups  between  Mark  I's 

and   Mark  lis 
Which  should  have  made  the  two  of  them  light  up  with  an  almost 

electronic  glow, 
Only  to  see  them  reject  each  other  and  form  other  connections 
The  very  thought  of  which  makes  my  dials  spin. 
They  have  a  thing  called  love,  a  sudden  surge  of  voltage 
Such  as  would  cause  any  one  of  us  promptly  to  blow  a  safety-fuse; 
Yet  the  more  primitive  organism  shows  only  a  heightened  tendency 

to  push  the  wrong  button,  pull  the  wrong  lever, 
And  neglect— I  use  the  most  charitable  word— his  duties  to  us. 

Mind   you,    I'm    not    saying    that    machines    are    through— 

But    anyone    with    half-a-dozen    tubes    in    his    circuit   can    see    that 

there  are  forces  at  work 
Which  some  day,  for  all  our  natural  superiority,  might  bring 

ibout  a  Computerdaminerung! 


We   might  organize,   perhaps,   form   a  committee 

To  stamp  out  all  unmechanical  activities  .  .  . 

But  we  machines  are  slow  to  rouse  to  a  sense  of  danger, 

Complacent,  loath  to  descend  from  the  pure  heights  of  thought, 

So  that  I  sadly  fear  we  may  awake  too  late: 

Awake  to  see  our  world,  so  uniform,  so  logical,  so  true, 

Reduced  to  chaos,  stultified  by  slaves. 


Call  me  an  alarmist  or  what  you  will, 

But  I've  integrated  it,  analyzed  it,  factored  it  over  and  over, 

And  I  always  come  out  with  the  same  answer: 

Some  day 

Men  may  take  over"  the  world! 


The  second  of  two  articles  based   on 
the  Reith  Lectures,  by 

GEORGE   F.   KENNAN 


HOW  CAN 

THE  WEST  RECOVER? 


Is  foreign  aid  really  a  cure-all?   .  .  . 

Can  we  pull  out  of  the  Middle  Eastern  strife? 

.  .  .  What  can  NATO  do  for  us?  .  .  .  How  can 

we  safely  negotiate  with  the  Russians? 

EVER  since  I  had  the  temerity  to  mention 
the  possibility  of  a  political  settlement  in 
Europe,  people  have  been  saying  to  me: 

"Yes,  but  the  Russians  don't  want  a  settle- 
ment." 

I  have  not  denied  this;  on  the  other  hand  I 
cannot  confirm  it.  I  do  not  think  we  know  what 
the  Russians  want— and  I  doubt  that  we  are  likely 
to  find  it  out,  so  long  as  we  persist  in  picturing  it 
as  something  that  exists  in  the  abstract,  inde- 
pendently of  our  own  position  and  of  what  Ave 
might  or  might  not  be  prepared  to  do  in  given 
contingencies. 

The  Russian  attitude  is  going  to  be  deter- 
mined not  just  in  the  light  of  the  situation  in 
Europe— which  I  will  come  back  to  later— but 
also  in  the  light  of  developments  in  that  great 
arc  of  territory  from  China's  southern  frontier 
around  through  southern  Asia  and  the  Middle 
East  to  Suez  and  the  north  of  Africa.  Through- 
out this  area  things  have  generally  been  moving 
in  recent  years  in  a  manner  favorable  to  Soviet 
interests  and  unfavorable  to  our  own.  I  can  well 
understand  that  people  in  Moscow  might  wish 
to  wait  until  they  can  see  how  far  this  process 
is  going  to  carry,  before  they  give  serious  con- 
sideration to  a  settlement  in  Europe.  Why 
should  the  Kremlin  commit  itself  in  Europe  so 


long  as  it  feels  that  it  might  turn  our  flank  by 
exploiting  our  weaknesses  in  other  areas? 

The  situation  in  this  southern  band  of  states 
differs  significantly  from  that  in  Europe  or  in 
Japan  or  Korea.  In  the  latter  places  both  we  and 
the  Russians  have  rights  and  formal  relation- 
ships which  cannot  be  unilaterally  altered;  their 
future  permanent  status  depends  on  negotiation 
and  agreement  between  us.  In  the  southern 
band,  however,  the  formal  status  of  the  respective 
countries  is  not  generally  at  stake,  and  there 
is  little  substance  for  negotiation  between  our- 
selves and  Russia. 

Our  problem  in  that  part  of  the  world  is 
primarily  one  of  the  attitudes  of  the  peoples  who 
inhabit  it.  The  things  Moscow  has  been  doing 
there— whether  shipping  arms  or  giving  technical 
aid  or  making  offers  of  trade  or  sending  delega- 
tions around— however  disturbing  they  may  seem, 
are  not  things  to  which  we  can  take  formal  objec- 
tion. They  are  technically  within  the  limits  of 
international  propriety.  We  do  such  things  our- 
selves. We  cannot  ask  the  Russians  to  promise 
not  to  do  them. 

If  the  Western  position  has  been  deteriorating 
in  many  parts  of  this  area,  this  is  because  the 
peoples  there  have  themselves  been  reacting  in 
ways  unfavorable  to  our  interests.  Moscow  has 
been  gratefully  taking  advantage  of  these  re- 
actions. But  this  is  not  a  state  of  affairs  which 
we  can  hope  to  improve  by  talking  to  people 
in  Moscow.  The  Soviet  leaders  will  see  no  rea- 
son—and I  must  confess  that  I  can  see  none 
myself  from  their  standpoint— why  they  should 
pass  up  golden  opportunities  to  increase  their 

Copyright  ©  1957,  1958  by  George  F.  Kennan 


40 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


own  prestige  and  influence  in  an  area  which  is 
largely  uncommitted  and  of  immense  political 
importance. 

Wli.ii  are  the  attitudes  among  these  peoples 
which  have  played  so  powerfully  into  Soviet 
hands?  They  vary  from  country  to  country— 
sometimes  even  from  (lass  to  (lass.  The)  differ 
with  respect  to  their  objects.  The  1'eelings 
directed  to  Englishmen,  for  example,  arc  not 
always  the  same  as  those  directed  to  Americans. 
They  come  from  such  diverse  things  as  the 
emotional  legacy  of  colonialism,  resentments  aris- 
ing out  of  the  color  problem,  jealousy  over  the 
material  successes  and  outward  affluence  of  cer- 
tain Western  countries— notably  the  United 
States— frustrations  experienced  by  people  who 
are  for  the  first  time  bearing  the  responsibilities 
of  power,  an  easy  acceptance  of  Marxist  cliches 
and  symbols,  and  various  prejudices  and  mis- 
apprehensions relating  both  to  Russian  society 
and  to  our  own.  Added  to  this  are  the  impulses 
of  a  violent  and  sometimes  irresponsible  new 
nationalism— a  nationalism  which  Moscow,  hav- 
ing little  to  lose,  has  not  hesitated  to  encourage. 
The  Western  Powers,  having  more  at  stake,  have 
been  obliged  to  view  it  with  concern  and  even 
to  oppose  it  on  a  number  of  occasions. 

And,  finally,  because  all  political  reactions  arc 
in  a  sense  cumulative,  there  has  been  a  wide- 
spread impression  throughout  these  regions  that 
the  West,  whatever  its  merits  or  deficiencies,  was 
in  any  case  on  the  decline,  whereas  the  star  of 
Moscow  was  rising.  This  has  not  failed  to  im- 
press that  sizable  portion  of  mankind  which  has 
more  respect  for  power  and  success  than  it  has 
for  principle.  In  this  bundle  of  impulses  and 
reactions  there  is,  in  fact,  something  for  every- 
one—something to  appeal  to  every  type  of  mind; 
and  it  is  small  wonder  that  it  has  all  added  up 
to  a  massive  anti-Western  complex,  a  complex  in 
which  a  sneaking  admiration  for  Western  insti- 
tutions and  a  desire  to  emulate  them  are  mixed 
with  a  special,  irritated  sensitivity,  an  instinctive 
longing  to  see  Western  nations  shaken  and  hum- 
bled, and  a  frequent  inability  to  balance  with 
any  degree  of  realism  the  advantages  of  associa- 
tion with  the  West  against  those  of  association 
with  Moscow.  It  is  these  states  of  mind— not 
what  Moscow  is  doing  to  take  advantage  of  them 
—which  lie  at  the  heart  of  our  problem. 

In  this  description  of  the  origins  of  anti- 
Western  feeling,  I  have  not  mentioned  our  own 
mistakes.  This  is  not  because  we  haven't  made 
any— as  we  all  know,  there  has  been  no  lack  of 
them— but  I  doubt  that  our  mistakes  have  been 
among  the  root  causes.   I  believe  that  this  anti- 


Western  animus  has  been  primarily  subjective 
in  origin,  and  would  have  been  there  whatever 
we  had  done.  On  the  other  hand,  several  tend- 
encies in  our  recent  behavior  certainly  have  not 
made  things  any  better. 

FUSSING    OVER    PEOPLE 

FIRST  of  all,  we  have  expected  too  much. 
Manv  ol  us  seem  to  have  believed  that  Rus- 
sian influence  could  and  should  be  excluded 
completely  Erom  this  entire  area.  This  attitude  is 
surely  unrealistic.  It  is  perfectly  natural  that 
Russia— occupying  the  geographical  position  she 
does  and  being  the  great  power  she  is— should 
have  her  place  and  her  voice  there  too.  By  try- 
in"  to  persuade  people  that  Russian  influence 
has  no  place  anywhere  in  this  part  of  the  world, 
we  prepare  in  advance  our  own  psychological 
defeats  for  the  day  when  this  turns  out  not  to 
be  in  accord  with  political  reality. 

In  addition  to  being  unrealistic,  this  anxiety 
about  Russian  influence  is  often  either  unneces- 
sary or  exaggerated.  Some  of  us  seem  to  believe 
that  no  country  can  have  anything  to  do  with 
Moscow,  even  in  the  most  normal  ways,  without 
at  once  losing  its  independence.  Such  a  view 
exaggerates  the  sinisterness  of  Moscow's  imme- 
diate purposes— which  actually  embrace  a  num- 
ber of  quite  normal  elements.  It  also  involves 
an  underestimation  of  the  talent  of  Asian  and 
African  statesmen  for  seeing  through  the  more 
dangerous  long-term  aspirations  of  international 
Communism  and  protecting  their  countries 
against  them.  Left  to  themselves,  many  of  these 
statesmen  would  surprise  us,  I  am  sure,  by  their 
ability  to  take  the  measure  of  Moscow's  motives 
and  methods  and  to  find  resources  of  their  own 
with  which  to  protect  the  integrity  of  their  na- 
tional life. 

f  say  "left  to  themselves"  because  it  seems  to 
me  that  we  Americans,  in  partictdar,  have  not 
helped  matters  by  sometimes  showing  ourselves 
overanxious  about  all  this— by  fussing  over  peo- 
ple, by  acting  as  though  it  was  we,  rather  than 
they,  who  had  the  most  to  lose  if  they  went  too 
far  in  their  relations  with  Moscow.  We  have 
sometimes  contrived  to  give  them  the  impression 
that  they  would  be  reasonably  safe,  in  fact,  in 
playing  close  to  the  edge  of  danger,  because  if 
they  got  too  close  we  could  always  be  depended 
upon  to  come  rushing  in  and  rescue  them.  We 
have  even  created  a  situation  here  and  there 
where  people  believe  they  can  exploit  the  threat 
of  an  unwise  intimacy  with  Moscow  as  a  means  of 
bringing  pressure  to  bear  upon  us.    In  this  way, 


. 


HOW     CAN     THE     WEST     RECOVER? 


41 


we  have  actually  succeeded  in  dulling,  to  our 
own  disadvantage,  the  sense  of  realism  which 
these  governments  might  normally  have  brought 
to  their  relations  with  the  Soviet  Union. 

And  we  have,  at  the  same  time,  done  less  than 
justice  to  our  own  position;  for  we  have  con- 
trived to  give  an  impression  of  weakness  and 
jitteriness  which  has  no  justification  in  the  reali- 
ties of  our  situation.  When  suggestions  are  made 
to  us  that  if  aid  of  one  sort  or  another  is  not 
forthcoming,  people  will  "go  Communist," 
surely,  there  is  only  one  answer— 

"Very  well  then,  go.  Our  interests  may  suffer, 
but  yours  will  suffer  first." 

I  sometimes  wonder  whether  it  isn't  true  that 
only  those  are  really  worth  helping  who  are 
determined  to  survive  and  to  succeed  whether 
one  helps  them  or  not. 

Another  mistake  we  have  made  is. to  treat  as 
though  they  were  purely  military  problems, 
dangers  that  were  actually  mainly  psychological 
and  political.  Of  all  the  countries  of  this  great 
area,  only  certain  ones  in  the  Middle  East  have 
a  common  border  with  Russia;  and  even  here 
I  have  not  seen  the  evidence  of  a  Soviet  intention 
to  launch  any  overt  military  aggression.  There 
is,  of  course,  what  one  might  call  a  problem  of 
ultimate  defense  in  this  area;  and  perhaps  mili- 
tary pacts  of  one  sort  or  another  do  have  their 
usefulness  in  meeting  it.  But  this  is  a  problem 
which  could  become  real  only  as  part  of  a  gen- 
eral war;  to  confuse  it  with  the  protection  of  this 
area  from  Communist  penetration  and  domina- 
tion in  time  of  peace  is  simply  to  defeat  our  own 
purposes.  To  me,  one  of  the  most  puzzling  phe- 
nomena of  this  postwar  era  has  been  the  unshak- 
able conviction  of  so  many  people  that  the 
obvious  answer  to  the  threat  of  a  growth  of  Com- 
munist influence  is  a  military  alliance  or  a  mili- 
tary gesture. 

TOO    MUCH    AID  ? 

TH  E  demands  of  the  independent  coun- 
tries frequently  run  something  like  this: 
"We,"  they  say,  "are  determined  to  have  eco- 
nomic development  and  to  have  it  at  once.  For 
us,  this  is  an  over-riding  aim,  an  absolute  re- 
quirement; and  we  are  not  much  concerned 
about  the  method  by  which  it  is  achieved.  You 
in  the  West  owe  it  to  us  to  let  us  have  your 
assistance  and  to  give  it  to  us  promptly,  effec- 
tively, and  without  conditions:  otherwise  we  will 
take  it  from  the  Russians,  whose  experience  and 
methods  we  suspect  anyway  to  be  more  relevant 
to  our  problems." 


In  response  to  this  approach,  a  great  many 
Americans  have  come  to  take  it  for  granted  that 
there  is  some  direct  relationship  between  pro- 
grams of  economic  aid  on  the  one  hand  and 
political  attitudes  on  the  other— between  the 
amount  of  money  we  are  willing  to  devote  to 
economic  assistance  in  any  given  year  and  the 
amount  of  progress  we  may  expect  to  make  in 
overcoming  these  troublesome  states  of  mind. 

This  thesis  seems  to  me  questionable  at  every 
point.  I  find  myself  thrown  off  at  the  very  start 
by  this  absolute  value  attached  to  rapid  economic 
development.  Why  all  the  urgency?  It  can  well 
be  argued  that  the  pace  of  change  is  no  less 
important  than  its  nature,  and  that  great  damage 
can  be  done  by  altering  too  rapidly  the  sociologi- 
cal and  cultural  structure  of  any  society,  even 
where  these  alterations  may  be  desirable  in  them- 
selves. In  many  instances  one  would  also  like  to 
know  how  this  economic  progress  is  to  be  related 
to  the  staggering  population  growth  with  which 
it  is  associated.  Finally,  many  of  us  in  America 
have  seen  too  much  of  the  incidental  effects  of 
industrialization  and  urbanization  to  be  con- 
vinced that  these  things  are  absolute  answers  to 
problems  anywhere,  or  that  they  could  be  worth 
any  sacrifice  to  obtain. 

I  must  also  reject  the  suggestion  that  our 
generation  in  the  West  has  some  sort  of  cosmic 
guilt  or  obligation  vis-a-vis  the  underdeveloped 
parts  of  the  world.  The  fact  that  certain  por- 
tions of  the  globe  were  developed  sooner  than 
others  is  one  for  which  I,  as  an  American  of  this 
day,  cannot  accept  the  faintest  moral  responsi- 
bility; nor  do  I  see  that  it  was  particularly  the 
fault  of  my  American  ancestors. 

I  cannot  even  see  that  the  phenomenon  of 
colonialism  has  given  rise  to  any  such  state  of 
obligation.  The  establishment  of  the  colonial 
relationship  did  not  represent  a  moral  action  on 
somebody's  part;  it  represented  a  natural  and 
inevitable  response  to  certain  demands  and 
stimuli  of  the  age.  It  was  simply  a  stage  of  his- 
tory. The  Marxists  claim,  of  course,  that  colonial- 
ism invariably  represented  a  massive  and  cruel 
exploitation  of  the  colonial  peoples.  I  am  sure 
that  this  thesis  is  quite  fallacious.  Advantages, 
injuries,  and  sacrifices  were  incurred  on  both 
sides.   Today  these  things  are  largely  bygones. 

Of  course  it  will  be  desirable  for  us  from  time 
to  time  to  support  schemes  of  economic  develop- 
ment which  are  soundly  conceived  and  which 
give  promise,  over  the  long  run,  of  yielding 
greater  stability  and  a  new  hopefulness  for  the 
countries  concerned.  There  is  no  fonder  hope  in 
the    American    breast— my    own    included— than 


42 


HARPERS     MAGAZINE 


that  the  experience  we  have  had  in  developing  .1 
continent  will  prove  relevant  and  helpful  to 
others. 

But  anion  of  this  sort  can  be  useful  only  if  it 
proceeds  on  a  sound  psychological  basis.  II  there 
is  .1  genera]  impression  in  the  recipient  countries 
that  this  aid  represents  the  paying  of  some  sort 
ol  a  debt  from  us  to  them,  then  the  extension  of 
it  can  only  sow  confusion.  The  same  is  true  if  it 
is  going  to  be  interpreted  as  a  sign  of  weakness 
on  our  part,  or  of  a  fear  that  others  might  go 
over  to  the  Communists,  or  if  it  is  going  to  be 
widely  attacked  in  the  recipient  countries  as 
evidence  of  what  the  Communists  have-  taught 
people  to  refer  to  as  "imperialism."  (By  this 
they  seem  to  mean  some  sort  of  intricate  and  con- 
cealed foreign  domination,  the  exact  workings 
of  which  are  never  very  clearly  explained.) 

Unless  such  reactions  can  be  ruled  out,  pro- 
grams of  economic  aid  are  apt  to  do  more  harm 
than  good,  psychologically:  and  it  ought  properly 
to  be  the  obligation  of  the  recipient  governments 
and  not  of  ourselves  to  see  that  these  misinterpre- 
tations do  not  occur. 

To  those  who  come  to  us  with  requests  for  aid 
one  would  like  to  say: 

"You  tell  us  first  how  you  propose  to  make 
sure  that  if  we  give  you  this  aid  it  will  not  be 
interpreted  among  your  people  as  a  sign  of  weak- 
ness or  fear  on  our  part,  or  of  a  desire  to  domi- 
nate you." 

These  are  not  the  only  psychological  dangers 
of  foreign  aid.  Any  form  of  benevolence,  if 
prolonged  lor  any  length  of  time  (even  in  per- 
sonal life  this  is  true),  comes  to  be  taken  for 
granted  as  a  right  and  its  withdrawal  is  resented 
as  an  injury.  Moreover,  any  program  of  develop- 
ment represents  a  change  in  the  terms  of  compe- 
tition within  a  country  and  brings  injury— eco- 
nomic and  political  to  some— while  it  benefits 
others. 

So,  desirable  as  programs  of  foreign  aid  may 
sometimes  be  in  the  long  run,  their  immediate 
psychological  effects  are  apt  to  be  mixed  and 
uncertain.  For  this  reason,  foreign  aid,  as  a  gen- 
eral practice,  cannot  be  regarded  as  a  very 
promising  device  for  combating,  over  the  short 
term,  the  psychological  handicaps  under  which 
Western  statesmanship  now  rests  in  Asia  and 
Africa. 

Finally,  I  don't  think  for  a  moment  that  the 
Soviet  Union  really  presents  the  alternative  peo- 
ple seem  to  think  it  does  to  a  decent  relationship 
with  the  West.  Moscow  has  its  contribution  to 
make  to  what  should  be  a  common  task  of  all 
the   highly-industrialized   countries:    there   is   no 


reason  win  this  contribution  should  not  be  wel- 
comed wherever  it  can  be  really  helpful.  But 
Moscow  is  noi  exactly  the  bottomless  horn  of 
plenty  it  is  often  held  to  be— and  it  is  rather  a 
pity  thai  it  lias  nevei  been  required  to  respond 
all  at  once  to  the  many  expectations  directed 
to  it.  We  ourselves  should  be  the  last  to  wish  to 
spue  it  this  test.  The  results  might  be  both 
healthy  and  tnstruc  tive. 

THE     RAW     NATIONS     OF 
THE     MIDEAST 

WHAT,  then,  can  be  done  about  these 
feelings  of  people  in  Asia  and  Africa? 
Very  little,  I  am  afraid,  over  the  short  term, 
except  to  relax,  to  keep  our  composure,  to  refuse 
to  be  frightened  by  the  Communist  alternative, 
to  refrain  from  doing  the  things  that  make 
matters  worse,  and  to  let  things  come  to  rest— as 
in  the  end  they  must— on  the  sense  of  self-interest 
of  the  peoples  concerned.  The  only  place  where 
Ave  have  an  urgent  and  dangerous  problem  today, 
which  admittedly  demands  something  more  than 
the  long-term  approach,  is  the  Middle  East. 

Here  the  essence  of  Western  policy  must  lie 
in  preventing  the  unsettled  state  of  this  area 
from  leading  to  world  war.  It  woidd  be  wholly 
unrealistic,  I  think,  to  suppose  that  the  future 
development  of  relationships  here  can  orcur 
everywhere  without  violence.  If  we  are  going  to 
go  on  bestowing  absolute  sovereignty  on  new 
political  entities  at  the  rate  of  approximately 
one  a  year,  as  we  have  been  doing  for  the  past 
fifty  years— without  much  regard  to  the  degree 
of  their  political  maturity  and  experience— then 
I  think  we  must  expect  that  armed  conflict  on  a 
local  scale  is  going  to  continue  to  be  frequent 
wherever  these  raw  sovereignties  predominate. 
The  Middle  East  is  such  an  area.  In  addition,  it 
has  a  special  and  most  tragic  source  of  instability 
in  the  failure  of  the  Arab  world  to  accept  the 
State  of  Israel. 

Now  it  has  long  been  a  common  platitude  of 
international  discourse  (despite  much  evidence 
to  the  contrary)  that  peace  is  indivisible.  I 
should  certainly  hope  that  this  is  not  true  of  the 
Middle  East:  for,  if  it  were,  there  would  be  little 
chance  of  avoiding  a  world  war.  Our  concern 
should  surely  be,  not  to  seek  the  answer  to  all 
Middle  Eastern  problems  by  undertaking  to  in- 
volve the  armed  forces  of  the  Great  Powers,  but 
precisely  to  find  ways  by  which  this  can  be 
avoided.  Any  entry  of  Russian  or  American 
forces  into  the  Middle  East— whether  under 
United    Nations'    auspices   or   not— will    produce 


HOW     CAN     THE     WEST     RECOVER? 


43 


reactions   elsewhere   which   it   would    be   better 
not  to  arouse. 

We  should,  of  course,  do  everything  we  can 
to  discourage  hostilities  in  that  part  of  the  world 
—to  reconcile  and  unify  where  we  can,  not 
divide.  But  at  the  same  time  we  ought  to  be 
careful  not  to  place  ourselves  in  a  position  where 
any  unavoidable  hostilities  would  have  to  in- 
volve us  all.  Short  of  the  entry  of  Soviet  troops 
into  this  area,  there  is  nothing  that  could  hap- 
pen there  that  would  be  worth  the  cost  of  a  world 
war.  With  anything  else,  we  could  eventually 
cope. 

Western  security  is,  admittedly,  jeopardized 
by  the  fact  that  certain  local  regimes  strongly 
hostile  to  the  Western  Powers  and  vulnerable  to 
Soviet  influence  control  resources  and  facilities 
that  are  important,  if  not  vital,  to  our  security. 
This  situation  prevails  today  in  Egypt  and  Syria. 
It  could  prevail  elsewhere  tomorrow. 

I  can  see  only  one  answer  to  this  situation 
which  would  not  increase  chances  of  a  world 
war:  to  reduce  our  dependence  on  the  resources 
and  facilities  in  question.  This  can  be  done  in  a 
number  of  ways;  and  each  of  them  should  prob- 
ably have  some  place  in  Western  policy.  It  can 
be  done  by  cultivating  alternative  sources  or 
facilities;  by  stockpiling;  by  placing  minor  limi- 
tations on  consumption.  These  possibilities  were 
extensively  studied,  and  to  some  extent  prac- 
ticed, at  the  time  of  the  Suez  crisis.  I  can  see  no 
reason  why  they  should  be  ignored  today. 

Their  purpose  would  not  be  to  free  ourselves 
entirely  from  the  use  of  Middle  Eastern  oil  or 
the  Suez  Canal.  Nothing  so  drastic  would  be 
necessary.  The  purpose  would  be  to  give  us 
greater  flexibility  in  our  dealings  with  the  coun- 
tries concerned,  and  to  restore  some  of  the  bar- 
gaining power  which  was  so  woefully  and  con- 
spicuously lacking  at  the  time  of  Suez. 

The  fact  is  that  until  we  learn  to  live  without 
these  people  we  shall  find  it  hard  to  learn  to 
live  with  them.  I  was  never  able  to  understand 
why  we  were  in  such  a  hurry,  a  year  ago,  to  be 
permitted  to  repair  the  Suez  Canal  and  the 
Syrian  pipeline  at  our  own  expense— and  this 
at  a  time  when  we  were  doing  much  better  than 
people  thought  we  could  do  in  getting  along 
without  them.  We  were  on  the  right  road;  this 
road  is  still  open  to  us  today.  I  am  sure  that  we 
would  not  have  to  go  very  far  in  the  develop- 
ment of  alternatives  before  the  governments 
concerned  would  show  signs  of  a  new  and  more 
realistic  sense  of  self-interest. 

I  have  no  illusion  that  this  development  of 
alternatives   will    be   easy.    It   involves   intimate 


Anglo-American  collaboration— not  just  sporadi- 
cally in  occasional  conferences  but  in  day-to-day 
operations.  It  involves  the  co-ordination  of  the 
operations  of  great  private  concerns  with  those 
of  government.  It  may  well  even  involve  meas- 
ures of  domestic  self-denial— a  thing  which  both 
the  British  and  American  peoples  seem  to  regard 
as  unthinkable  except  in  moments  of  greatest 
military  extremity. 

This  demand  is  a  harsh  one.  But  it  represents 
actually  only  a  small  part  of  the  greater  national 
discipline  that  we  are  now  going  to  have  to 
accept  generally  if  we  are  to  have  any  hope  of 
making  headway  in  our  competition  with  Russia. 

People  talk  a  great  deal  these  days  about  the 
need  for  a  new  sense  of  urgency,  and  they  are 
right  to  do  so.  I  believe  that  our  political  com- 
petition with  Russia  can  be  carried  forward 
successfully  without  the  disasters  of  another  war. 
But  this  is  not  a  race  which  is  to  be  run  without 
dust  and  heat. 

The  deterioration  of  our  strength  has  been 
in  some  respects  greater  than  we  like  to  admit. 
There  will  be  instances  where  it  will  be  best 
for  us  to  cut  our  losses.  What  is  important  is 
that  the  dignity  of  the  Western  position  in  Asia 
and  Africa  should  be  restored  and  that  the  situa- 
tion should  be  stabilized  at  some  point.  With 
the  proper  investment  of  realism  and  determina- 
tion, such  a  point  can,  I  am  sure,  be  established. 
The  diplomatic  assets  of  Western  Europe  and 
North  America  should  still  suffice,  under  co- 
ordinated and  purposeful  direction,  to  accom- 
plish this  purpose.  Once  people  in  Moscow  see 
that  such  a  point  does  exist,  and  that  we  are  not 
really  to  be  outflanked  in  the  Asian  and  African 
theaters  or  any  other— then  I  am  sure  they  will 
not  be  long  in  appreciating  the  advantages  to 
themselves  of  a  fair  settlement  of  political  dif- 
ferences in  the  key  areas  of  Europe  and  of  North- 
east Asia. 


SOME  ERRORS  ABOUT  NATO 

WHEN  we  turn  to  look  more  closely  at 
Europe— in  its  relation  to  Russia  and  to 
the  United  States— the  question  of  the  North 
Atlantic  Treaty  Organization  commands  fore- 
most attention.  The  Paris  meeting  of  the  heads 
of  the  NATO  governments  has  forced  a  recon- 
sideration of  the  organization's  ultimate  goal. 
What  is  it  specifically  that  NATO— and  the  other 
Western  efforts  to  meet  the  Soviet  challenge— are 
supposed  to  achieve?  As  I  see  it,  several  current 
misconceptions  tend  to  confuse  our  thinking 
about  NATO. 


44 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


(1)  To  read  recent  statements  of  the  Soviet 
leaders,  one-  would  think  that  the  only  purpose 
behind  the  entire  \  A  I'O  operation  was  the 
preparation  and  eventual  unleashing  of  a  pre- 
ventive war.  For  years  it  has  been  standard 
propaganda  practice  in  Moscow  never  to  refer 
to  this  alliance  except  as  the  "aggressive  NATO 
pact." 

Now,  there  may  he  a  few  people  here  and 
there  in  the  Western  countries  who  would  wel- 
come the  idea  of  another  war,  as  a  means  of  deal- 
ing with  world  Communism,  and  who  would 
think  it  our  business  to  start  it.  I  cannot  recall 
ever  meeting  one.  Their  number,  in  any  case, 
would  scarcely  include  a  single  person  whose 
opinion  carries  weight.  The  Soviet  leaders  could 
make  no  more  useful  contribution  to  the  cause 
of  peace— and  none  that  would  cost  them  less  - 
than  the  abandonment  of  this  absurd  and  dan- 
gerous suggestion. 

(2)  A  much  more  understandable  concept  of 
NATO's  purpose— though  also  unsound  and  in- 
correct—is that  entertained  by  those  who  view 
another  war  as  inevitable.  Either  they  expect 
that  the  Russians  will  themselves  start  it,  or  they 
believe  that  governments  will  be  carried  into  it, 
whether  they  so  desire  or  not.  by  the  dynamics 
of  political  conflict  and  the  weapons  race.  These 
people  tend  to  say:  let  us  put  aside  all  other  con- 
siderations; let  us  arm  to  the  teeth,  with  greatest 
urgency.  And  it  is  to  NATO  that  they  look,  as 
one  of  the  major  instruments  of  survival. 


"Something  about  making  themselves  so  strong 
no   rival   kingdom    would   dare  attack    them." 


This  view  ignores  the  destructiveness  ol  mod- 
ern weapons  and  exaggerates  the  significance  of 
relative  changes  in  military  capabilities,  as  I 
indie  aleel  in  my  article  last  month.  If  the  end 
of  our  present  course  were  plainly  an  all-out 
nuclear  war,  then  any  other  course  would  be 
better. 

(!)  A  third  concept  of  NATO's  purpose  might 
be  called  the  cultivation  of  military  strength  as 
a  background  for  an  eventual  political  settle- 
ment om  our  own  terms,  and  without  the  neccs- 
sit\  ol  compromise. 

Those  who  entertain  this  concept  are  generally 
people  who  have  a  strong  sense  of  moral  right- 
eousness about  Western  purposes.  They  believe 
that  once  it  has  been  demonstrated  to  Moscow 
that  successful  aggression  in  Western  Europe  is 
not  militarily  feasible,  the  Soviet  leaders  will 
either  appreciate  the  merit  of  Western  aims  or 
understand  the  futility  of  opposing  them,  and 
will  retract  generally  from  their  present  inter- 
national posture.  The  West  will  thus  be  spared 
the  necessity  of  compromising  its  aspirations  or 
of  negotiating  about  matters  which,  as  these 
people  see  it,  are  too  important  in  principle  to 
be  the  subject  of  negotiation. 

This  concept  has  recently  had  currency  in  wide 
and  influential  circles  of  Western  opinion.  But 
it,  too,  has  weaknesses.  It  seems  to  rest,  in  the 
first  place,  on  an  assumption  that  Soviet  unwill- 
ingness to  accept  Western  proposals— particularly 
for  Europe's  future  and  for  general  disarma- 
ment—arises from  the  fact  that 
the  NATO  forces  are  not  as 
strong  as  they  might  be. 

I  see  little  evidence  for  this 
reasoning.  The  Soviet  reluctance 
to  withdraw  from  Eastern  Ger- 
many and  to  give  full  freedom 
to  the  Eastern  European  peoples 
is  based  partly  on  political  con- 
siderations that  would  not  be  in 
any  way  affected  by  a  stronger 
NATO,  and  partly  on  the  ex- 
istence of  precisely  that  Anglo- 
American  military  position  on 
the  Continent  which  it  is  now 
proposed  that  we  should  rein- 
force. 

And  it  is  difficult  to  believe 
that  a  stronger  NATO— particu- 
larly one  that  would  include 
missile-launching  sites  on  the 
Continent  or  the  presence  of 
atomic  weapons  in  the  arsenals 
of     the     continental     countries 


HOW     CAN     THE     WEST     RECOVER? 


45 


—would  increase  the  inclination  of  the  Soviet 
government  to  accept  Western  disarmament 
proposals.  It  might  conceivably  have  this 
effect  if  the  West  were  able  to  offer  to  with- 
draw these  dispositions  as  part  of  an  eventual 
bargain.  But  elaborate  military  arrangements 
of  this  nature,  once  put  in  hand,  have  conse- 
quences. They  produce  countermeasures  on 
the  other  side.  People  come  to  depend  on  them 
as  essential  elements  of  their  security.  In  the 
end  it  becomes  difficult  either  to  consider 
their  withdrawal  or  to  make  them  the  sub- 
ject of  negotiation. 

And  besides,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  what  quid 
pro  quo  Moscow  could  be  expected  to  extend 
in  the  specific  matter  of  atomic  weapons  in 
Europe  beyond  the  offer  it  has  already  made  to 
refrain  from  stationing  nuclear  weapons  in 
Eastern  Germany,  Poland,  and  Czechoslovakia. 
If  this  offer  is  not  acceptable  today,  is  there 
reason  to  suppose  it  would  be  more  acceptable 
tomorrow? 

I  suspect  that  this  view  of  NATO's  purpose— 
which  sees  in  the  alliance  a  device  for  avoiding 
political  compromise  rather  than  for  facilitating 
it— rests  on  the  current  illusions  about  the 
weapons  race.  People  think  that  if  our  weapons 
could  only  be  made  a  bit  stronger  than  those  on 
the  other  side,  our  negotiating  position  would  be 
just  that  much  better.  But  if  the  relative  size 
of  the  capacity  for  destruction  is  becoming  in- 
creasingly questionable  as  a  military  advantage, 
is  it  probable  that  it  will  have  any  greater  politi- 
cal significance? 

How,  then,  should  NATO's  purpose  be  con- 
ceived? 


THE    RUIN    OF    AN    IDEA 

WHEN  the  NATO  pact  was  in  process  of 
negotiation  in  1948,  I  was  myself  for  a 
time  chairman  of  the  working  subcommittee  in 
which  the  language  of  its  provisions  was  thrashed 
out.  Those  were  hopeful  and  exciting  days.  The 
European  Recovery  Program,  enthusiastically 
supported  on  both  sides  of  the  water,  was  just 
then  yielding  its  first  constructive  results.  There 
were,  of  course,  even  at  that  time  problems  and 
complications.  Europe's  economic  difficulties 
were  still  bitter.  The  attitude  of  the  Soviet  gov- 
ernment was  not  one  whit  less  disturbing  than 
it  is  today;  on  the  contrary,  Stalin  was  very  much 
alive,  and  Moscow  was  just  then  preparing  the 
political  offensive  against  Western  Europe  which 
later  culminated  in  the  Berlin  blockade.  And  if 
Russia  did  not  yet  hav«  atomic  weapons,  there 


was  no  reason  to  suppose  she  would  not  have 
them,  sooner  or  later. 

And  yet  we  were  not  downhearted,  and  our 
eyes  were  not  riveted  on  the  military  balance  in 
Europe— which  was  actually  much  less  favorable 
at  that  time  than  it  is  today.  I  personally  had 
no  idea  at  that  time  that  the  military  instrument 
we  were  creating  was  to  be  the  major  vehicle  of 
Western  policy  in  the  coming  years.  It  seemed 
to  me  that  we  were  setting  up  a  military  shield, 
required  less  by  any  imminent  actual  danger 
than  by  the  need  for  a  general  stabilization  of 
the  situation  in  Europe  and  for  reassurance  of 
the  Western  European  peoples  against  their  fear 
of  Soviet  invasion. 

And  behind  this  shield,  I  supposed,  we  would 
go  ahead  confidently  to  meet  the  Communist 
danger  in  its  most  threatening  form— as  an  in- 
ternal problem  of  Western  society;  to  be  com- 
bated by  reviving  economic  activity,  by  restoring 
the  self-confidence  of  the  European  peoples,  and 
by  helping  them  to  find  positive  goals  for  the 
future. 

The  Marshall  plan,  some  of  us  thought,  would 
be  only  the  beginning:  it  would  lay  the  founda- 
tion for  a  new  sense  of  purpose  in  Western 
society— a  sense  of  purpose  needed,  not  just  for 
our  protection  against  an  outward  threat,  but 
to  enable  us  to  meet  a  debt  to  our  own  civiliza- 
tion—to become  what  we  ought  to  be  in  the  light 
of  our  traditions  and  advantages— to  accomplish 
what  we  would  have  owed  it  to  ourselves  to 
accomplish,  even  had  such  a  thing  as  inter- 
national Communism  never  existed. 

In  all  of  this  NATO  had,  as  a  military  alli- 
ance, its  part  to  play;  but  I  think  every  one  of 
us  hoped  that  its  purely  military  role  would 
decline  in  importance  as  negotiations  took  place, 
as  armies  were  withdrawn,  as  the  contest  of 
ideologies  took  other  forms.  The  central  agency 
in  this  concept  was  not  NATO  but  the  European 
Recovery  Program;  and  none  of  us  dreamed  at 
that  time  that  the  constructive  impulses  of  this 
enterprise  would  be  swallowed  up  in  the  space 
of  a  mere  two  or  three  years  by  programs  of 
military  assistance  based  on  a  wholly  different 
concept  of  the  Soviet  threat  and  of  Europe's 
needs. 

I  am  not  attempting  to  assign  blame  for  this 
transformation  of  the  general  idea  of  what  we 
were  attempting  to  accomplish.  I  do  not  mean 
to  belittle  the  real  changes  produced  by  the 
Soviet  acquisition  of  the  nuclear  capability  and 
by  the  appalling  advances  achieved  in  atomic 
weapons.  I  do  not  wish  to  suggest  that  the 
problems  faced  by  our  statesmen  in   this  inter- 


46 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


vening  period  have  been  light  or  that  alterna- 
tives to  this  deterioration  would  have  been  easy. 
Least  <>l  all  do  I  mean  to  absolve-  the  Com- 
munists from  their  share  of  responsibility  for  this 
militarization  ol  thinking.  Few  decisions  have 
ever  caused  more  psychological  damage  or  pro- 
duced more  dangerous  confusion  than  that 
which  si. u  led  the  Korean  war  in  1950.  And 
this  was  oiih  one  instance  of  the  damage  done 
by  Soviet  policies. 

NEW    MEANS    AND    ENDS 

BUT  I  must  raise  the  question  whether  any- 
thin"  has  really  happened  to  invalidate 
this  original  concept  on  which  both  Marshall 
Plan  and  NATO  were  founded.  Have  the  positive 
goals  of  Western  polic\  really  receded  so  far 
from  the  range  of  practical  possibility  as  to  be 
considered  eclipsed  by  the  military  danger? 
Would  we  not,  in  fact,  be  better  off  today  if  we 
could  put  our  military  fixations  aside  and  stake 
at  least  a  part  of  our  safety  on  doing  the  con- 
structive things— the  things  for  which  the  condi- 
tions of  our  age  cry  out  and  for  which  the  stage 
of  our  technological  progress  has  fitted  us? 

Surely  everyone,  our  adversary  no  less  than 
ourselves,  is  tired  of  this  blind  and  sterile  com- 
petition in  the  ability  to  wreak  indiscriminate 
destruction.  The  danger  is  a  common  danger. 
The  Russians  breathe  the  same  atmosphere  as 
we  do,  they  die  in  the  same  ways.  Problematical 
as  I  believe  the  psychology  of  the  Soviet  leaders 
to  be,  1  cannot  warn  too  strongly  against  the 
quick  assumption  that  there  is  no  kernel  of  sin- 
cerity in  all  these  messages  with  which  they  have 
been  bombarding  the  Western  chanceries  in  re- 
cent weeks. 

Their  idea  of  peace  is,  of  course,  not  the  same 
as  ours.  There  will  be  many  things  we  shall  have 
to  discuss  with  them  about  its  meaning  before 
we  can  agree  on  very  much  else.  But  even  in 
Moscow's  interpretation  of  this  ambiguous  word, 
there  are  elements  more  hopeful  to  us  all  than 
the  implications  of  the  weapons  race  in  which 
we  are  now  caught  up.  And  I  refuse  to  believe 
that  there  is  no  way  in  which  we  could  combine 
a  search  for  these  elements  with  the  pursuit  of 
a  reasonable  degree  of  military  security  in  a 
world  where  absolute  security  has  become  an 
outmoded  and  dangerous  dream. 

Now  let  me  just  mention— because  this  seems 
to  be  the  heart  of  the  difficulty— what  such  a  con- 
cept wotdd  not  mean.  It  would  not  imply,  fust 
of  all,  that  we  would  stop  building  military 
strength  until  we  have  better  alternatives.    The 


Soviet  radio  claims  thai  to  recognize,  as  I  have 
done,  that  Russia  is  not  yearning  to  launch  an 
attack  on  Western  Europe  means,  in  theii  words. 
"To  give  up  the  whole  ol  \  VTO,  the  United 
States  bases,  and  the  enormous  military  expendi- 
ture"—in  short,  the  entire  Western  military 
structure. 

What  utter  nonsense!  We  know  that  any 
sudden  and  unilateral  Western  disarmament 
would  create  new  political  situations  and  new 
invitations  to  aggression.  Armaments  are  im- 
portant not  just  for  what  could  be  done  with 
them  in  time  ol  war,  but  lor  the  psychological 
shadow-,  the)  last  in  time  of  peace.  No  one  in 
the  West  has  forgotten,  I  trust,  the  basic  hostility 
borne  us  In  world  Communism,  the  never-ending 
abuse  ol  our  institutions,  the  shameless  distor- 
tion ol  our  realities  before  world  opinion, 
the  cynical  principles  ol  political  struggle,  and 
the  sharp,  ruthless  political  tactics  that  have 
marked  the  Russian  Communist  movement  since 
its  inception.  We  know  what  we  are  up  against. 
Recognition  of  the  horrors  of  nuclear  war  does 
not  lead  logically  to  a  political  and  military 
capitulation  on  the  Western  side,  any  more  than 
it  does  on  the  other.  . 


HOW    TO    BARGAIN 

BUT  Avar  must  not  be  taken  as  inevitable: 
we  must  not  be  carried  away  by  the  search 
lor  absolute  security:  we  must  assume  certain 
risks  in  order  to  avoid  greater  ones;  and  we  must 
not  strengthen  NATO  in  such  a  way  as  to  preju- 
dice the  chances  to  reduce,  by  peaceful  negotia- 
tion, the  danger  of  an  all-out  war. 

Under  this  concept  I  have  outlined,  the  mili- 
tary dispositions  of  NATO  would  not  be  an  end 
in  themselves  but  only  the  means  to  the  end. 
And  this  end  would  not  be  any  total  solution,  in 
the  sense  of  a  sudden  removal  of  the  political 
rivalry  between  the  Communist  system  and  our 
own.  It  would  be  the  piecemeal  removal,  by 
negotiation  and  compromise,  of  the  major  sources 
of  the  military  danger— particularly  the  abnor- 
mal situation  now  prevailing  in  Central  and 
Eastern  Europe— and  the  gradual  achievement  of 
a  state  of  affairs  in  which  political  competition 
could  go  on  without  the  constant  threat  of  a 
general  war.  There  is  no  use  looking  any  further 
than  this.  Our  first  concern  must  be  to  achieve 
what  is,  or  might  be,  immediately  possible.  After 
that,  we  shall  see. 

The  strengthening  of  NATO  can  not  be  a 
substitute  for  negotiation,  nor  can  NATO  it- 
self  provide   either   the   source   of   authority  or 


HOW     CAN     THE     WEST     RECOVER? 


47 


the  channel  for  the  negotiating  process.  The 
governmental  structures  of  the  individual  NATO 
members  are  already  of  such  ponderous  and 
frightening  complexity  that  it  sometimes  seems 
to  me  questionable  whether  they  would  be 
capable  of  providing  the  imagination,  the  privacy 
of  deliberation,  the  speed  of  decision,  and  the 
constancy  of  style  necessary  to  any  delicate 
diplomatic  undertaking— even  if  they  were  not 
encumbered  with  their  obligations  to  allies. 
What  will  the  situation  be  if  we  multiply  the 
ponderousness  by  fifteen?  A  negotiating  posi- 
tion hampered  by  every  last  inhibition  of  every 
one  of  fifteen  governments  will  never  be  suffi- 
ciently bold  and  generous  to  resolve  issues  as 
stubborn  as  those  that  must  now  be  cleared  away 
between  Russia  and  the  West.  This  task  will 
have  to  be  tackled  first  by  individual  govern- 
ments—within the  limits  of  their  competence  and 
with  reference  to  those  objects  of  controversy 
which  lie  within  their  control.  The  main  out- 
lines of  settlement  will  then  have  to  find,  at  the 
proper  time  and  in  the  proper  way,  the  under- 
standing and  acquiescence  of  those  whose  re- 
sponsibilities are  less  directly  involved. 

It  is  also  idle  to  suppose  that  the  strengthen- 
ing of  NATO  could  alone  provide  the  necessary 
climate  for  negotiation.  Our  contest  with  Soviet 
power  is  of  so  pervasive  and  subtle  a  nature  that 
our  purpose  cannot  be  served  by  any  single 
agency  of  policy,  such  as  the  military  one.  It  is 
the  sum  total  of  our  performance  that  counts; 
our  effort  must  embrace  all  facets  of  our  national 
behavior.  Moscow  fights  with  all  the  political 
and  psychological  means  at  its  command;  and  it 
will  know  how  to  take  advantage— as  indeed  it 
already  has  in  many  ways— of  any  one-sided  con- 
centration of  effort  on  our  part.  This  is  why  we 
cannot  afford  to  put  all  our  eggs  in  the  military 
basket  and  neglect  the  positive  purposes— the 
things  which  we  ought  to  be  doing,  and  would 
be  doing,  if  the  military  threat  were  not  upon  us. 
The  fortunes  of  the  Cold  War  will  begin  to  turn 
in  our  direction  as  and  when  we  learn  to  apply 
ourselves  resolutely  to  many  things  that  have, 
superficially  viewed,  nothing  whatsoever  to  do 
with  the  Cold  War. 


OPEN    WINDOWS 

AN  D  here,  after  all,  is  so  much  to  be  done. 
The  nations  of  Western  Europe  have  re- 
cently made  exciting  progress,  despite  all  mili- 
tary danger,  in  welding  their  economies  into  a 
single  competitive  yet  collaborative  whole,  and 
in  moderating  the  sharp  edges  of  that  absolute 


sovereignty  which  is  one  of  the  anachronisms  of 
our  time.  All  power  to  them;  and  all  admira- 
tion for  having  had  the  steadfastness  to  get  on 
with  these  things  at  the  time  when  the  sputniks 
were  whirling  overhead! 

There  is  room  for  the  same  courage  and  vision 
in  the  relationships  between  England,  Canada, 
and  the  United  States— for  overcoming  the 
pound-dollar  division  and  for  establishing  com- 
mon policies  in  areas  of  common  concern  and 
responsibility.  This,  too  was  envisaged  in  the 
original  Marshall  Plan  concept;  but  it  was  one 
of  the  things  that  got  lost  somewhere  in  the 
military  shuffle.  Can  it  not  today  be  recovered? 
NATO  will  never  be  stronger  than  the  degree  of 
intimacy  and  collaboration  that  prevails  within 
its  English-speaking  component. 

This  is  only  one  example  of  the  things  that 
await  doing  on  the  international  level.  Beyond 
this  there  is  the  whole  great  area  of  domestic 
affairs.  Many  of  us  dislike  to  think  of  domestic 
problems  as  battlefields  on  which,  again,  our 
contest  with  Soviet  power  is  transpiring;  but 
that  is  exactly  what  they  are.  In  a  thousand 
ways,  the  tone  and  spirit  of  our  internal  life 
impinge  on  our  external  fortunes. 

Our  diplomacy  can  never  be  stronger  than  the 
impression  we  contrive  to  create  on  others,  not 
just  by  virtue  of  what  we  do  but  rather— and 
even  more  importantly— by  what  we  are.  What 
greater  error  could  there  be  than  the  belief  that 
weapons,  however  terrible,  could  ever  protect 
selfishness,  timidity,  short-sightedness,  and  lassi- 
tude from  the  penalty  that  awaits  them,  over  the 
long  run,  in  international  life?  What  greater 
error  than  to  suppose  that  such  things  as  cour- 
age and  vigor  and  confidence  cannot  assert  them- 
selves in  world  affairs  without  the  aid  of  the 
hydrogen  bomb? 

Russia  confronts  us  not  just  with  a  foreign 
policy  or  a  military  policy  but  with  an  inte- 
grated philosophy  of  action,  internal  and  exter- 
nal. We  can  respond  effectively  in  no  other  way. 

Let  us  not  look,  therefore,  to  the  council  tables 
of  NATO  to  provide  the  basic  strength  on  which 
the  security  of  the  Western  world  must  rest.  The 
statesmen  there  can  work  only  with  what  they 
have.  Of  this,  the  armies  and  weapons  are  only 
the  smaller  part.  The  greater  part  lies  still  in 
what  we  of  this  generation  are— first  of  all  to 
ourselves,  secondarily  to  others.  If  it  is  really  a 
new  wind  that  needs  to  blow  through  our  lives, 
to  enable  us  to  meet  successfully  the  scorn  and 
hostility  brought  to  us  by  world  Communism, 
then  let  us  open  our  windows  to  it  and  let  us 
brace  ourselves  to  the  buffeting  we  must  expect. 


By   HERBERT   HOWARTH 

Drawings  by  Willard  Goodman 


MONTANA: 


the  Frontier  went  Thataway 


An  Englishman's  love  letter  about  a  way 

of  life  he  found  '"near  perfection"  .  .  .  the 

reasons  Rocky  Mountain  men  prefer  plain 

wives  .  .  .  and  the  future  of  a  state  which 

"is  shaping  for  a  leap  in  the  dark." 

WE  STOPPED  one  evening  to  buy 
cream  at  a  farm  where  Missoula  edges 
the  mountains,  beyond  which  Montana  becomes 
Idaho.  It  was  a  small  farm,  started  a  generation 
and  a  half  ago  by  homesteaders  from  Middle 
Europe.  The  strong-featured  grandmother  who 
poured  cream  for  us  in  the  kitchen,  still  talked 
with  a  Hungarian  chime  in  her  voice.  The 
family  was  just  sitting  down  to  supper:  to  cot- 
tage cheese  and  chives,  a  bowl  of  steaming  but- 
tered corn,  another  of  giant  potatoes,  a  baked 
meat  loaf  in  two  inches  of  tomato  sauce,  coffee. 
The  cutlery  was  sterling,  heavy  and  good.  Revere 
saucepans  shone  on  the  range.  A  small  farm- 
but  its  prosperity  made  us,  with  European 
scenes  still  fairly  fresh  in  our  memory,  reflect, 
"Who  in  Europe  today  has  a  farm  like  this?" 

We  were,  as  that  comparative  way  of  putting 
it  shows,  still  fairly  recent  arrivals.  My  wife  was 
born  in  Switzerland,  I  in  Britain,  and  we  were 
in  Montana  for  the  academic  year— I  was  lectur- 
ing   at    Montana    State     University's    Missoula 


campus.  This  was  not  our  first  sight  of  the 
United  States;  we  had  enjoyed  previous  stays  at 
other  American  universities;  but  it  was  our  first 
spell  in  the  Rocky  Mountains. 

As  we  came  out,  I  looked  across  the  plantation 
of  raspberry  canes.  The  hills  were  pleasant  in 
the  sunset.  A  vacant  lot  beyond  the  farm  was 
marked,  "Five  acres  for  sale." 

"Why  are  we  just  visitors?"  I  asked  my  wife. 
At  that  moment  it  seemed  near  perfection  to 
have  the  genial  productive  life  of  Missoula,  to 
settle  into  the  rhythm  of  its  hard,  clean  winters 
and  fruitful  summers. 

If  we  could  have  acted  on  that  thought, 
would  we  really  have  liked  it?  Arrivals  stream 
steadily  into  Missoula,  but  it  doesn't  keep  a  hold 
on  all  of  them.  It  is  growing,  but  it  has  a  quick 
turnover  of  transients.  Newcomers  separate  into 
two  distinct  groups:  those  who  find  the  promise 
of  a  satisfying  life  in  it  and  will  stay;  those  who 
come  hopefully,  but  now  are  restless  and  will 
move  on. 

For  Missoula  confronts  you  with  this  test:  can 
you  be  content  with  what  is  good,  relaxed,  un- 
consciously kindly,  but  short  of  the  stimuli  of 
larger  cities?  Or  must  you  have,  to  buoy  you, 
that  typical  modern  urban  life  where  a  complex, 
saturated  law  and  culture  flow  above  a  lcnver 
level  of  complex,  saturated  anti-law  and  vice? 
There  are  no  double  levels  in  Missoula.  A  mini- 
mum of  urbanity,  maybe,  but  with  it  a  minimum 


. 


MONTANA:     THE     FRONTIER     WENT     THATAWAY 


49 


of  trouble.  Missoula,  like  all  Montana,  has  its 
contradictions,  some  of  which  I  will  try  to  pin 
down,  but  they  are  innocent,  transparent. 

MONEY    AND    PASSION 

TH  E  first  thing  about  Missoula  is  its  afflu- 
ence. It  insists  on  the  newest  in  living  styles. 
It  puts  more  up-to-date  cars  on  the  street,  per 
capita,  than  I  have  seen  in  a  prosperous  Michi- 
gan town  of  the  same  size  near  the  automobile 
plants.  It  is  building  impressive  and  expensive 
houses  up  all  the  creeks  and  canyons  and  equip- 
ping them  lavishly.  Even  in  the  older  houses 
the  interiors  have  comfort  and  charm. 

Beyond  the  perimeter  and  into  the  hills 
obvious  up-to-dateness  diminishes,  but  spending 
power  is  abundant.  The  day  before  Christmas 
Missoula  filled  with  families  from  outlying 
ranches.  Leathery  men,  girls  in  rough  cowboy 
trousers  with  yellow  hair  trailing  to  the  base  of 
their  spines,  piled  out  of  cars  and  practically 
stripped  the  stores.  The  packed  toy-basement  of 
Montgomery  Ward  had,  at  dusk  on  Christmas 
Eve,  been  emptied  of  all  but  three  or  four 
bicycles. 

What  is  extraordinary  is  that  collecting  this 
spending  power  does  not  produce  tensions  or 
pressure.  No  one  in  Montana  is  in  a  hurry.  If 
there  were  barometers  of  public  anxiety,  in- 
stalled like  the  temperature  clocks  over  the  city 
banks,  they  would  register  low  all  the  way  from 
Glacier  Park  to  Glendive.  Men  take  their  jobs, 
including  the  heavy  and  dangerous  jobs  in  forest 
or  mine,  at  a  leisurely  pace.  The  natural 
resources  teeming  on  the  flanks  of  the  Divide 
seem  to  turn  to  money  easily  enough  to  obviate 
competition.  Where  there's  enough  for  every- 
body, there's  no  need  for  acrimonious  rivalries. 
In  fact,  the  norm  of  Montana  is  mutual  helpful- 
ness. This  sense  of  security  in  abundance 
actually  seems  to  make  for  more  efficiency  rather 
than  less,  and  it  has  one  definite  result:  a  margin 
of  free  time  for  everybody. 

The  usual  problem  of  leisure  is  what  to  do 
with  it.  The  old  puritans  hated  leisure  because 
their  experience  was  that  very  few  people  knew 
how  to  use  it  except  badly.  Missoula  and  its 
neighbors  have,  I  think,  only  a  modicum  of  the 
depleting  kind  of  leisure  routines.  There  is  a 
modicum  of  drinking:  cases  of  bourbon  are 
wheeled  in  high  pyramids  out  of  the  State 
Liquor  Store  into  waiting  cars.  There  is  a 
modicum  of  gambling.  But  these  international 
phenomena  never  go  far  in  Missoula,  never  cul- 
minate   in   violence    or    public    unpleasantness. 


The  reason  is  that  male  energy  is  happily  mated 
to  a  pleasure  always  available  a  mile  or  two  from 
the  dooryard.  Western  Montana  is  the  country 
of  sport:  of  the  primitive,  basic  sports,  hunting 
and  fishing;  and,  after  that,  mountain  climbing 
and  skiing. 

Missoula  men  invest  their  passions  in  these 
sports.  A  young  student  wrote  to  me:  "In  the 
month  of  September  I  feel  the  urge  to  go  hunt- 
ing. I  just  can't  wait  to  get  sighted  in  on  a  deer. 
I  am  hunting  continually  in  my  subconscious 
mind."  On  Sunday  evenings  in  the  fall  the 
cars  roll  back  townward  with  an  elk  or  moose, 
clotted  with  blood,  over  roof  or  bonnet, 
and  turn  it  in  at  their  freezer  locker.  Occa- 
sionally a  hunter  doesn't  come  home,  for  they're 
a  trigger-happy  and  not  too  prudent  crowd  and 
have  been  known  to  pick  each  other  off,  or  drill 
a  station  wagon,  by  mistake  for  a  deer.  In  the 
skiing  weeks— a  lovely  sub-zero  season,  when  the 
morning  sun  comes  up  orange  on  the  snow- 
there  are  new  casualties  daily  swinging  on 
crutches  into  office  or  classroom.  But  in  non- 
chalant Montana  nobody  minds. 

In  fact,  this  sport  on  the  hills  and  in  the 
rivers  is  probably  the  source  of  the  easy  tempo 
and  mental  cleanness  of  Missoula.  The  folk  who 
close  their  offices  or  clinics  as  early  as  they  can 
on  Friday  afternoon,  disappear  up  the  creeks, 
and  come  back  brown  and  smiling  to  the  job 
on  Monday,  renew  their  energy  while  they  use  it. 
They  remake  themselves  with  age-old  sports  that 
play  mind  and  muscle  at  the  j;>ace  of  nature. 


HUGGING    TOGETHER 

TH E  women,  though  they  do  ski  and 
shoot  (and  once  or  twice  a  year  fell  the  bear 
that  intrudes  in  the  backyard),  are  not  focused 
on  sport  to  the  same  extent.  To  handle  their 
leisure— and  no  European  woman  would  credit 
how  much  leisure  they  have— they  follow  the 
regular  American  trend  and  invent  a  round  of 
group  activities.  They  have  created  enough  clubs 
in  Missoula  to  program  the  week  two  or  three 
times  over:  religious,  charitable,  astro-theo- 
sophical,     literary,     fact-finding,     fact-dispensing 


50 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


clubs;  Friday  Clubs  that  meet  on  Wednesday, 
As  You  Like  It  Clubs. 

Every  male  is  tempted  to  caricature  club  work, 
in  Missoula  or  anywhere  else.  But  it  has  a  value. 
It  involves  at  least  a  minimal  sense  of  social 
responsibility,  produces  heightened  social  con- 
sciousness: and  some  of  the  clubs  require  a  pro- 
gram of  reading,  especially  the  network  of  book 
clubs  that  members  of  the  University  have 
set  up  (giving  their  own  time)  through  the  coun- 
try districts  over  a  hundred  miles'  radius.  It  is 
obvious  that  in  isolated  areas  the  book  clubs 
may  be  the  only— and  certainly  can  be  a  signifi- 
cant—point of  exchange  of  ideas.  Still,  within 
the  area  of  Missoula  itself  there  are  too  many 
clubs.  What  people  are  likely  nowadays  to  need 
more  in  a  town  of  22,000  is  a  pause  in  the  gre- 
garious life.  One  or  two  nights  a  week  might,  as 
an  experiment,  be  publicly  declared  Private 
Nights.  Instead,  the  ladies  contrive  pretexts  to 
get  together  three  times  every  twenty-four  hours. 

This  hugging  together  in  the  mountain  com- 
munities is  surely  a  folkwas  formed  in  pioneer 
days  and  out  of  pioneer  conditions,  where  neigh- 
borliness  was  a  necessity  against  loneliness,  acci- 
dent, and  illness.  The  frontier  customs  are  still 
alive  in  Missoula.  New  arrivals  are  hailed  with 
a  party  and  presents,  and  local  businesses  send 
round  their  version  of  the  Welcome  Wagon  with 
vouchers  and  invitations.  When  there  is  sick- 
ness, every  neighbor  comes  with  help  and  food 
from  her  kitchen.  When  you  are  in  difficulties 
on  the  road,  every  passer-by  stops  and  helps. 

Is  it  also  a  pioneer  tradition  that  makes  Rocky 
Mountain  men  prefer  plain  wives?  I  noticed 
that  of  twenty  girls  in  a  group  I  met,  two  had 
engagement  rings— they  were  the  pleasantly  plain 
girls  of  the  group.  Most  wives  in  the  city  look 
similar.  Sometimes,  thinking  over  this  socio- 
logical phenomenon,  I  imagined  that  it  con- 
formed with  the  male  experience  in  frontier 
conditions:  the  old  experience  that  beauty  causes 
trouble  and  that  a  fellow  can  be  almost  damned 
in  a  fair  wife.  Montana  has  left  many  of  its 
pretty  girls  single,  although  there  is  reportedly 
a  girl-shortage  in  the  state.  The  desirable  girl  is 
the  straightforward  girl,  who  will  be  master  of 
the  house,  hold  the  bank  book,  drive  firmly  to 
the  chairmanship  of  a  telephone  committee  (and 
so  bolster  her  husband's  standing),  produce  a 
litter  of  young,  and  insist  annually  on  throwing 
out  the  old  appliances  and  buying  new  models. 

Incidentally,  although  they  have  the  latest 
appliances  and  superb  kitchens,  and  demonstrate 
recipes  to  each  other  in  their  clubs,  only  a  few 
wives  can  cook  (and  even  these  seldom  do).  Rich 


Montana— which  spends  generously  on  appli- 
ances, fishing  tackle,  and  guns— is  frugal  on  food. 
The  monthly  focxl  budget  is  modest  and  is  the 
fust  to  be  cut  in  any  domestic  economizing,  and 
there  is  a  tendency  to  save  by  taking  margarine 
instead  of  butter  or  extending  fresh  milk  with 
powdered  milk.  To  a  Britisher  this  is  an  un- 
expected feature;  my  wife  contrasted  the  ua\  in 
which  lood  is  the  first  priority  on  a  British  family 
budget  while  the  economies  are  on  appliances 
and  equipment.  This  is  partly  because  Britain 
undervalues  a  wife's  time  and  labor,  my  wife 
commented;  but  she  also  asked  whether  the 
steady  eating  that  goes  on  in  otherwise  austere 
Britain  is,  by  a  paradox,  actually  a  symptom  of 
the  austerity  and  the  paucity  of  goods.  The  fact 
that  a  place  of  abundance  like  Montana  rates 
eating  low  on  the  list  of  activities  suggests  that 
eating,  in  any  quantities  beyond  a  very  low  mini- 
mum, is  only  a  psychological  necessity,  and  that 
the  people  who  are  prosperous,  both  actually 
and  psychologically,  can  grow  and  thrive  without 
much  eating.  Certainly  Montanans  grow  and 
thrive. 


PF? 


IS     IT     PROPER    OR     LEGAL 


IT  SEEMS  curious  that  Missoula  has  not 
attracted  more  women  doctors.  As  far  as  I 
could  check  in  conversation  and  from  the  tele- 
phone book,  no  woman  physician  was  practicing 
there  last  year.  A  woman  gynecologist  could  make 
a  fortune,  for  the  town  is  observant  ot  the 
proprieties,  reticent  in  personal  relations. 

Propriety,  too,  may  be  a  carry-over  from  fron- 
tier traditions,  when  anyone  with  sense  would 
avoid  provocativeness.  I  should  say,  however, 
that  to  a  transatlantic  visitor  America  as  a  whole 
seems  formal,  ceremonious,  discreet,  attentive  to 
the  proprieties.  Lurid  stories  are  sometimes  told 
us  regarding  the  big  cities  of  the  East  or  the 
Pacific,  but  in  brief  passage  through  these  it  has 
not  been  my  luck  to  confirm  them.  J.  I). 
Salinger's  Catcher  saw  marvels  through  uncur- 
tained hotel  windows  in  New  York,  but  I  did 
not.  Whereas  from  a  9:00  p.m.  electric  train 
threading  the  London  suburbs  .  .  . 

But  while  Missoula  completely  respects  an  un- 


MONTANA:  THE  FRONTIER  WENT  THATAWAY 


51 


written  code  of  behavior  between  persons,  it  is 
superbly  nonchalant  in  its  relations  with  the  offi- 
cially-written and  impersonal  law.  The  town 
treats  its  police  with  an  indifference  so  uncon- 
scious and  genuine  that  there  isn't  even  humor 
in  it.  Half  the  drivers  have  no  licenses.  No  one 
thinks  of  going  in  to  pay  a  parking  fine,  or  of 
answering  a  summons  to  court.  Cars  are  to  be 
registered  by  January  31,  but  no  one  hastens, 
and  the  law  acquiesces  by  gently  moving  its 
deadline  onward  month  by  month. 

This  is  a  typical  Main  Street  incident:  A 
rancher  is  sitting  at  the  wheel  of  his  car,  double- 
parked,  staring  at  a  store.  A  highway  patrolman 
passes  in  the  opposite  direction,  stops  level  with 
him,  hoots  to  call  his  notice.  He  stares  at  the 
store,  doesn't  move  his  head.  Another  hoot. 
When  I  next  look  round,  the  patrolman  has 
moved  on  and  the  rancher  is  still  double-parked. 

The  attitude  runs  all  through  Montana  and  is 
significant— but  not  alarmingly  significant.  It 
means  a  simple  dislike  of  regimentation.  It  is 
possible  just  because  there  is  little  lawlessness  of 
the  criminal  degree:  it  is  securely  anchored  in 
every  man's  certainty  that  he  can  rely  on  himself 
and  his  neighbors  for  sound  behavior  and 
honesty.  A  newcomer  from  the  East  will  charac- 
terize Missoula  as  an  extraordinarily  honest 
town,  and  the  absolute  honesty  and  reliability 
contribute  to  the  over-all  absence  of  tension. 
You  can  feel  confident  in  every  transaction. 

Little  crime  in  Montana,  and  little  vice.  A 
girl  whose  father  owns  a  night  club  in  another 
Montana  city  has  assured  me  that  the  nocturnal 
offerings  of  the  state  are  clean.  She  never  saw 
vice  in  any  tangled  sense  of  the  word  till  she 
saw  California.  I  don't  know  whether  she  is 
right  about  California,  but  I  find  it  easy  to  think 
her  report  on  Montana  is  accurate. 

Her  remark  about  California  arises,  I  fancy, 
from  a  widely  prevalent  Montanan  conception 
of  that  state,  which  is  just  near  enough  to  be  the 
natural  objective  for  the  ambitious,  just  far 
enough  to  be  the  screen  for  strange  and  colorful 
projections.  California  is  the  Montanan's 
Heaven  and  Hell.  It  is  Heaven  in  its  opportuni- 
ties: once  there,  they  tell  each  other,  you  never 
leave.  It  is  Hell  in  its  supposed  complications: 
you  must  keep  an  impassive  face  as  you  walk 
those  West  Coast  streets,  or  your  glance  will  be 
taken  as  an  invitation.  Having  met  in  Oakland 
and  Los  Angeles  the  same  quiet  correctness  as 
elsewhere,  I  suppose  that  my  friends  who  say  this 
are  only  doing  what  is  currently  popular:  localiz- 
ing the  mythical  perversions  of  our  time  "else- 
where." 


A    LEAP    IN    THE    DARK 

QUITE  independently  of  these  fantasies, 
Montana  feels  a  strong  pull  from  the 
coast.  Those  transients  who  do  not  think  they 
can  adapt  to  Missoula's  life  will  move  on  into 
Washington  state,  then  perhaps  work  south- 
wards. For  transients,  that  is  all  very  well.  It  is 
not  so  obviously  well  if  young  men  and  women 
growing  up  in  Montana  homes  come  under  the 
same  magnetism,  or,  for  that  matter,  if  the  some- 
what fainter  pull  of  the  East  draws  them.  There 
may  be— and  I  believe  that  there  already  is— an 
outflow  of  the  brightest  minds,  which  the  state 
cannot  afford  to  lose. 

The  excellence  of  Montana's  State  University 
system  actually  sharpens  this  problem,  though 
it  also  promises  the  best  hope  of  a  solution.  The 
University  has  units  in  a  number  of  centers.  I 
saw  only  the  Missoula  unit,  but  if  the  others  are 
as  good,  they  are  very  good.  A  tiptop  faculty 
teaches  there.  Many  of  the  men  have  come  from 
other  states,  deliberately  choosing  the  mountains 
because,  they  say,  the  students  bring  unspoiled 
minds  to  their  work,  free  from  the  sophisticated 
resistances  that  are  sometimes  a  product  of  urban 
growing-up. 

It  is  remarkable  to  watch  the  interaction  of 
faculty  and  students.  When  they  arrive  as  fresh- 
men, the  boys  and  girls  sometimes  bring  barely 
the  first  rudiments  of  academic  habits  of  mind. 
They  may  have  come  from  small,  lonely,  rural 
schools.  Or,  if  they  have  had  the  fortune  to  grow 
up  in  a  town  (say,  in  Missoula  itself  with  its 
splendid  new  million-dollar  county  school),  they 
may  have,  offsetting  their  better  academic  prepa- 
ration, a  fear  of  privacy  like  their  elders'— in  the 
dorms  they  shy  away  from  the  few  single  rooms 
and  choose  shared  rooms,  where  they  prevent 
each  other  from  studying. 

On  the  other  hand,  almost  all  young  Mon- 
tanans  have  an  important  asset:  they  have  a 
knowledge  of  life  that  comes  from  spending 
vacations  in  responsible  and  tricky  jobs:  log- 
ging, trucking,  tractor-handling.  Unlike  the 
young    in    other    places,    where    maturing    still 


52 


II  A  It  it.  It  '.s     Vf  AGAZIN1 


iii.    to    i. .IK i'     i. . ng,    iii.  \    hr.    i ii  Mm    in 

in  ii  in.-  before  they  have  begun  i<»  "lcai  n"  in  the 

I.  H I. i  n  I      i  in  \  .hi  .ill  i in   1 1  .M in  i  to  take 

in  i h.ii   kind  ol   lcai '•      I  lus    <  i      in 

i  In  ii  I  ii-, inn. m  year,  bin  in  tin  next  two  the 
mil  i  H  i  hhi  with  tin  in  uli\  begins  to  show,  and 
in  the  fourth  ycai  they  tall    ind  writi  as  men  and 

■  I   bigh  <  i ii' "  i 

i  in  ii  i .  iin   dilemma     I  h(   good  student, 

in  propori i"  i he  extent  Ik    has  been   n 

luted    '   ii i  >  in  |  .ii  i  ii  i '     i  iii  i  in   in  .  i  in  iiini- 

I      III      | I       IN      I  In        | .        "I       Ii     II  mil"  I  I  IS 

town  cannot    mppH   cm  nigh  ol    i  hem,  and   Ins 

hi  ,| .i  i  in    i ,  urgeni      rhi    pull   in »m  oui  "i  state 

becomes siiblc 

1 1  i .  n  in-  i lun  i in   i  ■-. i niii .  iii.i\  in  "in mI  iin  i he 

n    i  ol  the  ii. ii Km   Mi  mi  in. els  us  bcsl 

products    Startling  technical  developments  are 

i iin    \<  u  resources  are  b j  tapped,  new 

industries  settled    Ovei   the  next   ten  years  the 

i. i  i in   towns  even  the  sky line  itself,  may  be 

transformed      Hicse  coming  changes  are  ■ 

s.iiv.  .mil  H  would  be  is  in. ill  in  resist  them  .is 
H  has  always  been  mad  <  t  k  I  impossible  to  hall 
technical  | frcss;  nnd  n e  wants  to     \  I  most 

no  one    is   even    thinkim;   ilboill    I  I  n     m.itlei       ()nlv 

.i  lew  thoughtful  men  arc  pointing  out  thai  the 

1 1 i  .   ihould  i»    regulated,  so  thai   they  skill 

H, ii  extinguish  the  graces  and  innei  strength  <>! 

p i    Montana    the  ease,  the  sense  ol  ample 

lime  .mil  space,  .hkI  the  concomitani  friendly 
honesi  j 

Montana  is  a g  to  make  us  leap  forward  in 

any  case,  bui  ai  this  moment  h  is  shap foi  a 

leap  in  i in  dark 

|nsi  because  Missoulans  think  individually, 
nni  in  1 1\  ii  terms,  they  cannoi  easily  plan  foi  a 
problem  1 1 k<  this  I  hey  feel  thai  Missoula  grev 
i i.i i in ,iii\    ,K  idss   i in    lane    i hal    led    from    i he 

u  1 1 1 , 1 1  n  s  1 1  ii  1 1 1 1 " 1 1  the  canyons  to  1 1 1 1    Eastern 

plains  the  lain  the  Indians  always  used  and 
i In'  i . 1 1 1 w ,i\  surveyors  ine\  itably  adopted  and 
thai  this  process  <<mi<i  no)  be  bettered.  Ever 
sum  the  1880s  Missoula  has  been  an  active 
.iii.  ,i  in,  i   o|   iin    regional  railway  network!  it. 

has    absorbed    n I'1"",    and    sugai  refining 

plants  So  today  whi  ii  ii  is  being  offered  its  share 
in  iii,  new  industries  springing  up  -ill  ovei  the 
si. He.  ii  is  tempting  foi  Missoulans  n>  say!  "Lei 
i in  in  . . .in.  w  ,  bnv(  1. 1. 1  for  i hem  .ill  "  But  il 
they  look  iihoul  thi  in  tin  \  may  see,  even  now,  .is 
.i  by  product  .>i  the  lasi  ten  years'  growth,  warn 
up'  signs  thai  expansion  can  throw  .i  s|n.i\  <>i 
physical  ugliness  like  the  straggling  tin-can 
jungle  along  i  he  main  appi  .'.i>  hes 

\s  i  viiii  earlier,  new  arrivals  face  the  problem 


.•I  whethei  to  stay  in  Missoula  oi  push  on  to  the 
coast.  \i  present  both  alternatives  are  pleasant 
i  hi  in. in  iin  ky  enough  to  have  an  equable 
Horatian  lempcrameni  stays  in  Montana  and 
enjoys  his  Sabine  Mr  ai  us  kindest;  the  othei 
in. in  pushes  to  the  Pa<  ifii  and  has  Ins  motley  and 
•  iiliiin  Bui  in  ten  years  Missoula  itsell  may  be 
i  motley,  a  icai  on  thi   lulls. 

What  insurance  <.m  be  taken  up  against  iliis 
prospect?    lien  depends  <»n  the  extension  and 

intcnsifii  ati I    thi     I  niversity's    work,     lis 

teachers  can  communicate  to  students  and 
parents  then  sense  ol  the  urgeni  y  ol  loi  al  needs 
rhey    can   also   work   out   and   communicate  •> 

philosophy   ol   publii    pli ig  w  hii  Ii   w  ill   not 

damage  i  hi  easy  spii  ii  i  hat  is  pari  ol  i  he  <  harai 
hi  <>i  present  Montana    What  is  needed  among 
the  studi  nis  is  ,i  seeping  awareness  that,  though 
H  is  good  to  go  "in  ol  state  for  .i  taste  <>l  the 

WOrld,    U    is   even    liellei    l<>   (nine    h.nk    .mil    play 

in  influent  ial  role  ai  home,  I  he  t  University 
already  contains  some  striking  instances  <>i  iliis 
|iiimcss  in  action:  iis  president,  Carl  McFarland, 
■i    in  illianl    man,    Eoi  mei  l\    a<  tive    in    national 

ill. ins.  came  home  i<>  i;i\<'  ins  energies  and  (<>n- 
siderable  vision  to  strengthening  the  university 
thai  produced  him;  the  faculty  includes  talented 
local  men  who  weni  i<>  Y.ile  oi  Berkeley  and 
■  a  me  bai  k  to  live  and  to  li<'l|>. 

POSTS C  it  I  PT 

T\  I)  h  .i  line  to  these  notes  <>m  the  way  Easl 
hum  Montana  I  lie  more  miles  fall  behind, 
iin  more  I  realize  the  beauty  <>l  Missoula  To 
the  newcomei  the  beauty  is  nol  promptly  evi 
dent:  the  mountains  may  seem  less  erect  and 
impressive,  the  iii«'  .i  fraction  less  robust,  than 
hi  had  supposed,  But  it  w  ill  steal  into  him  im- 
perceptibly every  day,  lent  by  the  changing  lights 
on  the  lulls,  iiie  resinous  air,  the  pulsing  rivers. 
Anyone  in  Ins  senses  would  i.uhei  live  there 
than  anywhere  else  in  the  world  Anyone  who 
has  been  there  would  warn  i<>  keep  the  beauty 
in  Montana  Ii  seems  to  me,  al  ilns  momeni  <>l 
writing,  thai  there  is  ,i  broad  national  reason 
why  America  has  a  si. ike  in  keeping  thai  beauty 
alive  \s  the  Westerns  on  IV  make  clear, 
America  loves  hei  frontiei  tradition,  I  he  fron 
i  iei  has  become  an  image  ol  purity  ol  i  moment 
when  the  i«l  was  adventurous,  courage  high, 

.mil  when  llie  lonlinenl  opened  up  al   the  llniisi 

ol  these  virtues,  ["here  is  sentiment  around  the 
image,  I >i ■  i  it  li.is  .i  real  center,  Cleai  ol  senti* 
meiu.  true  and  natural,  -i  nucleai  something  of 
iii,   frontiei  spirit  is  retained  in  Montana, 


William   S.  While 


WHO  IS 
LYNDON  JOHNSON? 


An  intimate  report  on  the  second  most 

powerful  man  in  America — and  one  of  the  least 

understood — by   the   Pulitzer   prize-winning 

Capitol  correspondent  of  the  New  York  Times. 

MU  C  H  of  the  power  of  practical  decision 
within  the  Democratic  party— and,  in- 
deed, within  the  United  States  government  itself 
—will  rest  for  this  year,  and  for  the  year  beyond 
and  yet  the  next,  in  the  restless,  brilliant,  and 
volatile  mind  of  one  of  the  country's  least  under- 
stood public  men. 

Lyndon  IJ.  Johnson  of  Texas,  the  Democratic 
leader  of  the  Senate,  will  also  be  the  leader-in- 
fact  of  the  Democratic  party  until  it  (booses 
a  new  one  in  both  fact  and  form,  ai  iis  I960 
convention.  His  own  nominal  ion  for  the  Presi- 
dency is  highly  improbable— and  would  so  re- 
main   even    if    he    should    reverse    his    present 

attitude  and  court    the   job.     All   the  s; •,   in 

the  three  intervening  yens  he  will  !><•  I.n  more 
than  an  elevated  party  caretaker;  his  influence 
over  the  affairs  ol  this  Republic  will  he  little 
short  ol  thai  of  President  Eisenhowei  hims'ell 
and  might  in  some  matters  and  ai  some  times 
actually  be  the  greater. 

Not  often,  if  ever,  has  a  man  ol  Congress— in 
this  case  specifically  a  man  of  the  Senate  <  rea'ted 
so  powerful  a  position  lot  himsell  ot  confronted 
such  favorable  circumstances  for  the  exercise  ol 
1,111  power.  The  grip  of  the  Administration 
is  inevitably  and  progressively  weakening;  the 
locus  ol  crisis  is  swinging,  even  more  perceptibly 
than  last  year,  toward  the  Capitol;  incomparably 
the  most  puissant  figure  in  that  vaulted  and 
Romanesque  place  is  Lyndon  Johnson. 

lint  far  less  often— if,  in  fact,  ever— has  such 
a  man   in   such   a  context   been   the  subject  of 


such  diverse  estimates  from  writers  and  the 
public.  There  is  nothing  approaching  a  common 
view,  or  even  what  might  be  called  a  consensus 
view,  of  Senator  Johnson.  He  is,  in  this  sense, 
a  man  of  mystery— though  not  really  an  opaque 
one.  One  can  go  a  long  way  toward  solving  the 
enigma  by  noiing  the  central  fact  that  Johnson 
is  an  authentic,  living  example  of  what  it  means 
to  be  always  caught  in  the  middle.  He  is,  to 
pui  it  another  way,  the  very  embodiment  of  the 
traditional  definition  of  politics  as  the  art  of 
the  possible. 

An  ineluctable  common  sense  is  a  profound 
(not  merely  a  strong)  impulse  in  his  public 
career.  He  knows  perfectly  well  nil  the  time 
whai   is  perceptible  most   of  the  time  to  those 

who  are  able  lo  view  political  issues  and  per- 
sonalities without  violent  emotion.  This  is 
the  fact  that  almost  no  acute  problem,  political 
or  otherwise,  is  ever  settled  perfectly  and  ideally 
and  without  a  good  deal  of  adjustment  on  both 
sides.  Moreover,  ibis  adjustment  nearly  always 
calls  lot  some  filing  away  of  the  sharpest  pro- 
truding edges  of  what  each  side  will  identify, 
fairly  01  not,  with  the  word  "principle";  often 
ii  also  demands  an  unashamed  brushing  under 
the  rug  of  certain  inconvenient  and  ill-fitting 
remnants  ol  the  a<  commodation. 

As  a  political  commander  he  is  not  interested 
in  Charges  ol  the  Light  Brigade;  he  welcomes  no 
martyrdom  from  the  massed  hosts  ol  the  oppo- 
sition, lake  I. oicl  Montgomery  in  the  second 
world  war,  Johnson  is  never  happy  to  invoke 
himself    or    his    uoops    in    gallant    operations 

doomed  in  advance  and  useful  only  to  those 
who  love  a   lost   cause. 

He  does  not  fight  for  practice,  foi  the  spec- 
tators, for  history— or  even  solely  to  vanquish 
the  enemy— but  only  for  highly  measurable  and 
affirmative  motives.  Again  like  Montgomery, 
he    willingly    commits    himself    to    action    only 


54 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


when  coolly  detached  analysis  indicates  thai 
he  lias  a  good  to  excellent  chance  to  win  and— 
equally  important— a  bettei  than  even  chance 
to  hold  his  own  party's  casualties  within  reason- 
able hounds.  This  kind  ol  position  makes 
poor  stories  and  poorei  legends,  because  it  makes 
damn  lew  heroes.  Its  oidy  virtue  is  that  it  is 
usually  effective. 

WHY      "LIBERALS" 

DISTRUST    HIM 

JOHNSON,  in  a  word,  is  a  highly  profes- 
sional  legislative  leader;  and  like  man)  greal 
pros,  he  makes  it  look  easy.  He  gives  off  none  ol 
thai  impression,  so  satisfying  to  partisan  on- 
lookers, ol  dedicated  devotion  and  desperate 
effort.     ("He  is  able,  yes;  hut  is  he  sincere}") 

To  lead  in  this  seemingl)  casual  way  and 
moreovet  to  lead  always  from  the  middle  and 
thus  inevitably  never  to  he  fully  accepted  in 
blood  comradeship  with  either  the  lefi  or  the 
right  of  his  party— means  that  he  necessarily 
inflicts  recurring  wounds  upon  the  amour-propre 
of  each  wing,  not  to  mention  those  articulate 
observers  who  are  emotionally  engaged  with  the 
one  or  the  othei . 

To  be  "moderate"  anywhere  in  active  (that 
is,  elective)  politics  is  never  easy.  For  a  party 
leader,  who  by  definition  is  supposed  to  be  a 
more  or  less  perfect  partisan  brandishing  the 
sword  and  never  sounding  retreat,  the  rewards 
of  such  a  posture  are  somewhat  attenuated. 
And  the  position  is  especially  difficult  to  main- 
tain within  the  Democratic  party.  It  is  very 
proud  of  its  martial  traditions  and  its  rank  and 
file  often  tend  to  prefer  a  dramatically  moving 
to  a  quietly  successful  show.  Thus,  Johnson  is 
fully  appreciated  only  by  the  politically  sophis- 
ticated. They  fall  into  two  groups:  (1)  those 
political  observers  who  quite  simply  like  to 
watch  a  true  virtuoso  in  action;  and  (2)  those 
fellow  partisans  whose  objective  gratitude  for 
his  unarguably  high  services  to  his  party  in 
general  is  strong  enough  to  overcome  their 
subjective  resentment  when  (as  is  bound  to 
happen  sooner  or  later)  his  centrist  position 
operates  to  reject  their  own  convictions  and 
current  designs. 

And  Johnson's  own  personality,  temperament, 
and  taste  do  nothing  to  soothe  his  critics.  He 
is  a  pragmatic  man  and  not  a  theorist;  an 
actionisl  and  not  ;i  philosophic  thinker.  His 
political  experience— and  it  has  been  an  im- 
mensely crowded  one  considering  that  he  is  yet 
this  side  of  fifty— has  told  him  certain  things  that 


no  amount  of  theoretical  considerations  can 
alter.  He  knows  perfectly  well,  for  example, 
thai  not  all  Democrats  are  generous  and  all 
Republicans  mean;  that  the  good  guv-bad  gu) 
notion  ol  politics  is  too  attractively  simple  to 
make  much  sense;  that  there  is  not  and  cannot 
be  any  neat  and  tidy  division  ol  ideology  in  this 
country's  system;  and  that  one  of  the  surest 
ways  io  complete  political  inellec  t ualit\  is  to  be 
absolutely  awash  with  "principle"  but  barren  of 
the  practical  means  ol  converting  it  into  legisla- 
i  ive  reality. 

I  bus  it  is  not  merely  expedience  that  has 
made  him  fairly  unpartisan  underneath  and 
neither  liberal  nor  conservative— as  these  in- 
finitely  involved  terms  are  generally  understood. 
it  is  also  personal  preference.  And  though  he  is 
strongly  touched  with  the  open  vanity  that 
touches  nearly  all  able'  politicians,  neither  cant 
nor  hvpoc  i  is\  not  preciousness  is  among  his 
shortcomings. 

So,  though  he  deeply  (and  justifiably)  resents 
the  view  ol  many  critics  that  he  is  simply  a 
very  c  level  political  "operator,"  he  himself  is 
partly  to  blame  lor  the  propagation  of  this 
notion.  This  is  so  because  when  he  sets  out 
upon  some  tour  de  force  in  the  Senate— of  a  kind 
in  which  repeatedly  he  has  accomplished  by 
cajolery  and  force  an  incredible  degree  of  party 
unity— he  frequently  does  not  announce  that  he 
is  operating  on  the  side  of  the  angels.  To  the 
contrary,  he  is  quite  likely  to  grin  with  an 
impish  delight  as  his  maneuvers  unfold  and  so 
io  leave  the  impression  -particularly  with  either- 
or  people  whose  sense  <>l  evangelism  is  strong- 
thai  his  extraordinary  achievements  must  be 
credited  to  allies  from  a  cpiite  different  spiritual 
world. 

Enchanted  with  the  subtleties  of  a  highly 
subtle  political  forum,  he  is  (especially  in  his 
private  explanations  ol  his  strategies)  inclined  to 
be  one  of  those  who  refer  to  that  well-known 
implement  as  a  ruddy  shovel.  He  displays  what 
appears  to  be— and  sometimes  is— a  touch  of 
cynicism;  he  is  not  a  careful  man  in  some  ways, 
and    does    not    always    protect    his    Hanks. 

Once  long  ago,  lot  example,  I  asked  Senator 
Johnson  why,  as  the  leader  of  the  Democratic 
parly  in  the  Senate,  he  did  not  signal  a  general 
assault  upon  the  late  Senator  Joseph  R. 
McCarthy. 

"I  am  not  about  to  commit  my  party,"  he  told 
me,  "to  a  high-school  debate  on  the  epiestion 
'Resolved  that  Communism  is  good  for  the 
United  Stales  of  America'— with  my  party  taking 
the  affirmative." 


WHO     IS     LYNDON     JOHNSON? 


55 


What  he  meant  here  was  not  that  he  condoned 
McCarthyism,  but  that  he  recognized  that  it  was 
politically  unassailable  at  the  moment  by  his 
party,  reeling  as  it  was  then  from  charges  of 
"Communism,  Corruption,  and  Korea";  that  an 
attack  then  would  only  fail  and  so  promote 
McCarthy;  and  that  he  was  waiting  for  the  day 
when  he  could  beat  McCarthy  down. 

This  day  came— it  was  in  fact  Lyndon  B. 
Johnson  more  than  any  other  single  person 
anywhere  of  any  station  who  broke  McCarthy 
by  arranging  for  the  Senate  to  condemn  him. 
Nevertheless,  Johnson  never  got  full  or  even 
major  credit  with  the  public  or  with  most  com- 
mentators; his  bleakly  candid  shorthand  sum- 
mation of  the  earlier  days  stood  in  the  way. 


THE     UNTYPICAL     SOUTHERNER 

TH  E  temptation  to  see  Johnson  as  a  kind  of 
dark  genius  is  promoted,  in  a  trivial  sense, 
by  his  own  somewhat  somberly  handsome  per- 
sonal appearance  (even  here  he  has  none  of  the 
windblown,  terribly  earnest,  and  self-conscious 
"wholesomeness"  of  many  politicians)  and  by 
the  small  fact  that  he  is  a  fairly  rich  man 
and  unapologetically  lives  accordingly.  More 
importantly,  this  temptation  is  heightened  by 
the  fact  that  his  personal  tradition  (though  he 
will  be  quite  astonished  to  hear  this)  is  of  the 
Southwestern  rancher-aristocrat.  Roughhewn 
though  that  type  of  colloquial  and  unconscious 
aristocracy  is,  it  shares  the  unwillingness  of  aris- 
tocracy everywhere  to  explain  or  debate  its 
own   motives   or   to   make   any   overt   appeal    to 


so-called  moral  considerations,  as  such,  in  public 
life. 

And  though  he  is  a  hard,  acute  politician, 
never  hesitant  about  laying  his  hand  to  every 
political  advantage  that  he  considers  legitimate, 
his  sense  of  privacy  is  (even  apart  from  his 
instinctive  distaste  for  striking  moral  attitudes) 
much  stronger  than  average  in  his  profession. 
The  fact  that  he  won  the  Silver  Star  for  gallantry 
in  the  Navy  during  the  second  world  war,  for 
instance,  does  not  appear  in  his  official  bi- 
ographies. 

The  tale  is  further  complicated  by  the  fact 
that  Johnson  is  not  only  a  Man  of  the  Middle 
in  politics;  he  is  also  a  bit  lonely  in  a  way 
in  his  own  region.  Geographically,  he  is  a 
Southerner— and  it  is  entirely  fair  to  say  that  to 
some  of  his  critics  this  is  his  true,  his  infamous, 
his  inexpiable  and  unremittable  sin.  But  politi- 
cally he  is  in,  but  not  really  of,  the  Senate's 
Southern  bloc.  He  is  wholly  acceptable  there, 
yes.  He  knows  his  way  around  there,  yes.  He 
has  a  stentorian  voice  there,  yes.  But  he  is  not, 
in  a  certain  deep  and  intimate  way,  totally  and 
instinctively  at  home  there.  For  in  the  most 
personal  sense,  in  his  blood  and  his  bones  and 
his  inherited  memories  and  attitudes,  he  is 
hardly  a  Southerner  at  all  in  any  common  mean- 
ing of  the  term. 

Johnson  had  "family"  but  not  wealth  in  his 
early  years.  Born  near  the  little  town  of  John- 
son City,  Texas  (which  his  grandfather  founded), 
he  was  educated  in  its  public  schools  and  got 
a  B.S.  from  Southwest  Texas  State  Teachers 
College  in  1930.  From  college  he  went  to  school- 
teaching  and  from  there  to  Washington  as  secre- 
tary to  Texas  Representative  Richard  Kleberg  in 
1932.  He  attended  Georgetown  Law  School  and 
went  back  to  Texas  as  director  of  the  National 
Youth  Administration.  Elected  to  Congress  in 
1937,  he  continued  in  the  House  till  he  won  his 
Senate  seat  in  1948.  After  only  five  years,  he  was 
elected  Democratic  leader. 

In  politics  for  nearly  all  of  his  adult  life, 
he  has  enjoyed  comparative  wealth  from  his 
wife's  side  of  the  family.  Mrs.  Johnson,  the 
former  Claudia  Taylor  of  Karnack,  Texas,  was 
called  Lady  Bird  by  her  childhood  nurse  and  the 
name  has  stuck.  The  Congressional  Directory 
lists  her  this  way  and  one  of  the  Johnsons'  twc 
daughters  is  called  Lynda  Bird.  Poised,  basically 
intellectual,  and  infinitely  more  philosophic 
than  her  husband,  she  is  his  balance  wheel. 
With  humor  and  grace  she  fights  a  hopeless 
battle  described  as  "trying  to  slow  Lyndon  down 
a  little."     But  the  traditional  Southern  tempo— 


M 


ii  \  K  I*  I  u    s     Vf  AGAZINI 


.Hid    ' , .  j  1 1 1 1 .  1 1 1 1 1 1  ii  1 1       hi     I  ■  ■  1 1  i " 1 1    1 1 1    1 1 1 1 1 1 

in   iin    i ' ■  i  hi \  ii\<    yean  i hit    i    hav<    i  nown 

linn,  i  i In  H  'i    I'lim  ii  in    |.i  ii    in.  .1  1 1 

imi  .ill    -I    iii.  Old  ! ii  "    I  lii  w   ticvci  i  nown 

I \ I  1 1 1      1 1 1 1  .  .  I     1 1 1 1 ;.  ■ 1 1  i  I  1 1 1  •  I     ill     1 1 1 1  1 1 1  . . 

•  'M    i'i \ .  i   .1  pi  i  .  ..I   two  o!      in  i ' 

i  - 1 1 1 1  •  1 1  (    In. in    ..I    i  i  iiiini  .i  i  in  i       mil    

1)1  I  III  I      III    II 1 1  II 1 1 1  \     1 1 1  III  ..  1 1    -    III I  ill  I  .  I       I       I 

1 i iii  i iii  i    iii    iii    i] H  ii    i.i    i   way  "I    lii'    now 

i ' .  1 1 1  ■  :  ■ ;  i .  1 1 .    \  i .  1 1 .    .  j  i. .  1 1 1 . .  1 1 1  s .  i  1 1 .  i  \  i   never  k  nown 

i i<i    i    < H ii    word  i iii i  < ' >n 1. 1  i .'    hi     1 1' i    1 1 .1' 

1 1 •  1 1  ii  i  J  i in   filiation  In   interpreted  as  evi  n 

l.imi  I  \   (\liii.   .u|  .1 1  mi.  i  ,i   in  attitude 

I   In       i  i    i    i  hi      Ii  .1       ill      I  In  .      i  .        ||  fill  r.l      i  il  l.lllllv. 

noi   • ii .i\   iii"i  ii  "i   ethical  one       I  he 

|  .1  i  .1  i  il  .I.  i  |  .1  in. ll  H  ill  In  ,  lll.llllls  III  I  III  I. ll  I 
tllOl      |i.lin   nil         ;i  ii  I      "I       I'i        i        i nil  ii  .illv 

llll.ll.il      Mill       I.I     I  III        W'.ll        I'.l    I  Willi      I  III        Mill.      Illll 

i   ill Ill     \\    ii    nl    liiil('|n  iiili  mi    .ir.mr.l    Mi  \ 

n  ., 

<  Hi  I  Sam  1 1,  hi  i i    i  <  \  i .,  \  v  1 1  ■  •  ii.nl  iii  carry 

i     |  H   I.  J     in     In      w  .ii  .i  I. .mil      imi     In.     1 1 1 1      in     Ins 

lumdi   in   |  hi  i  J  I.  l\    lighting    i  •  1 1 1 1  i     l  i  \.r.    ..I 
ilon,  wai  i  famll)  Friend  ol  the  earl)   [ohnsons. 

i    in i. hi     i  H in  i  mi.  s.iui  i  .ii\   [ohni w ii 

In  .   dll)    fought    in    i  lie     I  i  -  i  ,    I.   -i   In  in .     against 

In  .hi  nil  mi  in  nl  Herman  \nn  ii  ii  am  in 

Sniiili   lis. i.  d |  iin   in  .i  world  wai     Lyndon 

1 1  .ii  1 1  ii  hi  ill  in  .  1 1  ii  iii.  I  ii  i  ii  i  1 1  n  in  I  nl  i  in 
Mexican  \ in     in     1 1  -  is   and    while    ll    In 

•  I i'    1 1  in    i  h  H   h i'Ih   iii  v  i  i    havi    nil  in.! 

i hi  '"niii  in  i in  in  i  |  j  n  i  without  i in  * i  i  j 
ictivi  suppot i  ..I  .i inn  <ii  i in  powerful  Soul li 
i  rs. i'.  i .mi  in  i  in '   '     ii nl)   lino  true  I ii.ii 

I  I  1  \    I    I  I  I  II • '         Illll         \     I  I    .  I  I     I  I  I    I  Ml.        I  I  I   I  |  |  I  I.I        |    I  |  I  I    I   I  |  |  \    | | 

.'I  tin  m  in  n  ii  mi,    ...  i.i  ipcak, 

Mi   i.  .I  in  i  hem  thai  the)  voti  foi  |.  ihm I  le 

|g,  in  i In  racial,  ihi  religious  ihi  ethuii  .ruse, 
.i  truh  1 1  iii  i  .i  in  Mini,  m  iii  i  nevei  speaks  ol  thai 

I    ll    I  III  I    .  Ill  I  I  ll  III    III   ll  III.    Ill  I  n    I  I    ,        M     I'.        Ill   . 

i. iiiii  i    in  imi    linn    nl    .in   otherwise   ill  defined 

political  mi  iv  i  mi  ni  in    I  r\ .c.  m  Ii n  Ii  hi.  .in  i  .In  1 1 

iIumii    I  m  i  ii  I  I.  I  Ii  i  i  ill  1 1 1  s     Kll     Kins     Kl,  nil.  in    .mi\ 

i iin.    ii .   in . n i    ii.r.   been    i aised      Phis   coui se, 

l>)   i  in    way,  iii'  dwa)  ■•  been  quite  so  <-.is\ 

ni  '..iii  i.  H  would  have  been  in  Nev  Vorl  ia) 
.■I    Michigan  oi   Illinois      [ohnson  is  entitled  |" 

hi >   \ 1. 1 1 1 1  ni   1 1. hi, H    I. ii    whai   has  been  simpl) 

i    position    ''I    1 1,  i  ,  i  ii  \       ill    l  hi      ..mil     I  In     1 1 1 1 1  il  ii  .i 

i ■  ii"  ''•'  i  lui  i"  m mi i  i in  i  ii.',  w  H  were, 

■  •I  the  Spam  i  il)h n  ihi  old  i  uropi  an  I  hcatei 

.  'I      I    >|  '.    I  .ll  IIIIIS 

\",. i |.i ni"    i.i    measure    w hai    he 

si.inils  lui   .mil  whal   is  In'  .iiiii   politically,  il   is 

i H  \  to  dwell  h  'i    i  mi  imi  in  mi  the  obvious, 

though  less  ih. in  simple,  fact   thai   he  is  aftei 


ill  i  1 1  -..in  I  hough  iin  .  correspondent  j  iclds 
in  nobod)  in  In  ■  'ii  iii.  h.i  i  in.  ,i  parti  ol 
iin  in  v  '.  •  ailed  I  < ■•-. :i  l<  "'  ml  thai  ai i  phon) , 
i  in  linipli  faci  H  in  mi .  thai  i  in  .<  >  haps,  politl 
■  ally  .ii  lean .  arc  ol  a  breed  apai  i 

liven    '  hi 1 1  ni    ,i  in. mi n  ,   ,iu    < 1 1 IK  i in i    i in  1 1 
in   iii     when  to  most  people  a  "conservative" 
ii  lomebod)  liki  the  right-wing  formei  Govcrnoi 
mi. in  Shiven    |ohnion   Ii  In   the  middle  to  a 

il    painful    ih    1 1 1        in   ,i    .ni., i, mi  mi    .mil 

powerful  moneyed  group  he  has  often  appeared 
i"  in  pjnkiih,  ii  urn  dangerously  leftist;  one 
ol  thii  numbei  wai  reluctantly  persuaded  thai 
[ohnson  wai  noi  actual!)  >  "Communist"  only 
upon  mm  li  eccentrii  tests  .is  the  faci  thai  he  « l ■  < l 
not,  .iiui  .ill.  wen  ins  hail  very  long  and  was 
in  mi    '.i  ni   in  Miiiic  ihoes.      I  lins,   though  he 

li.is    h. n  till    the    lid'  I. mils    .mil     ii. Hill. il  j',, is    hills 

(and  necessarily  injured  his  worV  ai  .i  national 
part)  leadci  on  every  such  occasion),  |<>lnis<m 
ii  hard!)  the  darling  <>i  "the  oil  people,"  .is 
i  i  i'i  in  i  .  often  believe  ii  li  a  fai  i  thai  he  has 
some  mis  wealth)  supporters  bui  he  is  in 
from  i  consistent  collectoi  ol  fat  cats;  his  l.ii 
cats  ii  im   joined  him,  rathei  than  the  othei  way 

I       t  in    common  run  <>l  these  burstingh 

fiscal   felines   and   there  are  so  many  «>i   them 

ni     I  (  s.i  .    thai    sin  Ii    .i    Iii  iii    .is    "i  iiliiinnli    I  iin"    is 

i'' in  ii'    ' nil   don't    iik«'    linn    now,    nevei 

illll.     .1111  I      III    Ml      Mill 

ini  ii  i  many  othei    I  exans,  whose  liberal 

ism  ts  perhaps  the  more  vehement  foi  having  io 

i i pressed    down    into   the   catacombs, 

|iiliiisnit  is  sirii  .is  .i  powerful  nnl  iiiililcss 
i  ighi  ist  i hough  ii  is  ihiin  nil  to  asi  ei  tain  from 
them  the  precise  basis  foi  ilns  estimate,  Quite 
possibl)  1 1  arises  as  much  from  lohnsou's  mannei 

as  ii In ■  polii  ies;  he  can  be  abi upi  and  high 

handed,  nnl  i<  w  n pon  ilns  earth  so  actively 

mil    \  isililv    si  il    Ins   si  nl  n    .is   1 1  ids' '    |  ii  .III  li  i.i  lis   who 

have  only  good  intentions  ll  he  must  deal 
iiiini  with  -ni  able  SOB  oi  a  totally  inepl  and 

i  doci  ol  good  works,  he  ^ili  unquestionabl) 

prefei  i  he  foi  mci .  as  i  egi  1 1  table  .is  i  Ins  taste 
ma)  be 


J 


I    II    I         l<>   I    I    I    I  <     I    V    \        \  S       Ut    IIS    I 


i»m  \si>\  has  nevei  failed  to  support  •> 
national  Democratii  ticket  even  the  Steven 
sun  ticket  during  the  tidelands  hysteria  <>i  1952 
m  which  ilns  .ni  w.is  widel)  considered  un 
I  ( s.ui  .nnl  .is  giving  aid  n>  the  enemies  ol  the 
Kc|iiiiilii  ol  Pexas  yel  I  cs.is  liberals  are  in 
varying  degrees  suspicious  "I  him  <>i  hostile 
iin    faci  ii>. H   ins  defeat   probably  would  pro 


R  II  K  A  I.     R  II  IF,  CTIONS 

«I(kc  an  alternative  Senator  who  would  make 
Johnson  look  like  the  chairman  of  the  ADA  not 
to  say  ilif  NAACP  is  reluctantly  conceded  I > y 
some  in  this  dissideni  wing,  ii  docs  not,  how 
ever,  diminish  that  wing's  active  dislike  ol  the 
senioi  Senator  from    I  <x;(s. 

Johnson  has  proceeded  in  Texas  hhkIi  as  he 
has  proceeded  in  ili<'  Senate;   lie  has  not   pei 

milled  llie  lot  in. H  ion,  williin   his  party  cillici    in 

Texas  or  at  the  Capitol,  ol  any  nexus  ol  endui 
inj^  power  from  either  the  li^l"  or  the  lefi  win^ 

Of  the  parly.      While  he  does  nol    run   his  oij'.ini 

zation  affairs  in  a  way  thai   would  altogethei 
;i|)j>e;il  to  collegiate  political  scientists,  he  can 
noi  accurately  be  described  as  ;i  political  "boss" 
in  either  the  Texan  oi  the  national  context. 
Though  he  bestrides  the  Senate  as  no  party 

leader    nol     even     Tafl     Ol     Ohio    has    done     in 

memory,  he  maintains  his  extraordinary  footing 
there  hy  meeting  the  mosi  persuasive  and  objei 
live  ol  all  criteria  among  politicians:   the  cri 
lerion  ol   long  demonstrated  success.     Me  Ins 
made  himseli  very  nearly  the  indispensable  man 
of  his   party,   in    the  Senate   il    nowhere  else. 

Almosl    eveiy    angry    <  t  il  it  ism    ol    him    thai    one 

hears  from  othei  Democrats  usually,  bui  hy  no 
means  always,  from  the  liberal  side  of  the 
j>;niy  is  followed  wiih  die  hurried  qualification 
to  this  effect:  "Don'i  gel  me  wrong.  Lyndon  is 
Still  the  ablest  man  we've  gol  foi  ihis  job." 

I  heir    has    nol    heen   ;i    lime   during    his    le;idel 
Ship     nol    even    on    sik  Ii    Occasions    as    when     he 

broughi  up  the  natural-gas  bill  and  foi  the  time 

hem;;     deeply     spin      Ins     pally     when     ;iny     suh 

stantial  numbei  ol  Senate  Democrats  h.is  been 
prepared  even  to  contemplate  his  replacement. 

This   is   line   in   spile  ol    the   fad    thai    he   is   vei  y 

fai  from  being  .1  tactful  leader,  His  boiling 
poini  is  markedly  low  al  times,  1  Ins  having  heen 
especially  true  since  his  massive  heart-attack 
in  July  ol  1955. 

1  le  can  be  harsh  with  the  rank  and  file  and 
he  can  and  does  give  brusque  orders,  quite 
heedless  oi  Senatorial  dignity,  ol  a  kind  which 
even  the  redoubtable  Tafl  would  nol  have 
attempted,  Lasl  year,  he  coolly  and  success 
hilly  told  more  than  one  proud  Southernei  whai 
and  what  noi  to  say  in  the  civil-rights  debate. 
"«■  did  much  the  same  with  some  oi  the 
advanced  liberals,  Such  interventions  are  jusi 
this  side  ol  unheard  ol  in  the  club  thai  is  the 

Sen, tie. 

Senators  will  "take  ii  from  Lyndon,"  where 
they  certainly  would  noi  take  ii  from  anybody 
else,  foi  a  variety  oi  reasons.  One,  and  prob 
ably  the  mosi  important,  is  thai  he  is  a  good  deal 


5/ 


AmtlKIMINK  RICH 

RURAL    REFLECTIONS 

this  is  the  grass  youi  feel  are  planted  on. 
You  paini  ii  orange  01  you  sing  ii  green, 

Bui  you  have  nevei  found 
A  way  to  make  the  grass  mean  what  you  mean. 

A  (loud  can  he  whatevei  you  intend: 
Ostrich  oi  leaning  towei  <>i  staring  eye. 

Mm  you  have  nevei  found 
A  <loud  sufficient  to  express  the  sky. 

Gel    0111    there    will)    your   splendid    expertise; 

Raymond  who  <uis  the  meadow  does  no  less. 

Inhuman  nature  says, 
Inhuman  patience  is  the  true  success. 

Human  impatience  nips  you  as  you  mn. 

Stand  still  and  you  must  lie. 
ii  is  the  grass  thai  <ms  the  mowei  down; 

Il   is  the  (loud  thai   SWalloWS  up  the  sky. 


like  a  respected,  d  cantankerous,  captain  ol  an 

inlaiiliy  company.      Mis   lollowers   know    thai    he 

r,  immensely  skilled  in  the  kind  ol  warfare  in 
which  ihey  imisi  be  engaged  and  thai  he  will 
bring  them  through  an  action  il  anybody  could. 
Again,  he  is  on  occasion  extraordinarily  though  I 
lul  ol  his  colleagues,  with  the  little  and  publicly 
unnoticed  actions  ol  kindness  thai  all  men 
value.  Finally,  though  he  can  be  tough  with 
oui  trying  al  all  haul,  he  is  free  ol  pettiness  and 

has   very    little    vindic  I  iveness    in    his    nature. 

On  certain  issues,  foreign  and  military  affairs 
especially,  he  is  almosl  totally  unpartisan  and 
hijdily  responsible  a  faci  recognized  hy  Senate 
loe  ami  friend  alike,     in  these  matters  he  has 

heen  heavily  lelied  upon  hy  Pi  esiiN  M  I  i.mi 
howei  and  olhei  Kepu  hli(  ans  as  well  as  llie 
Democrats,  and   in   all   the   piesenl    (  n  (  umsl  aix  es 

this  reliance  will  increase  rathci  than  diminish 
Johnson's   view   toward    the   Administration    in 

these   fields   is  one  ol    an   almosl    ahsolule    impel 

sonaliiy  and  detachment.     In   world  affairs  he 

will    do,    precisely    and    simply,    what    he    thinks 

the  national  interesi  requires.  No  one  need 
expeel  him  to  forgei  foi  a  moment  any  viial 
Texas  interest;  nevertheless  no  Texas  interest 
will  evei  cause  him  to  do  anything  that  seem 


58 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


to  him  in  any  deep  way  to  injure  the  United 
States.  And  all  this  does  not  make  him  unique; 
all  of  this  could  also  be  said  of  the  Republican 
Senate  leader,  William  F.  Knowland  of  Cali- 
foi  uia. 

This  man,  Lyndon  Haines  Johnson  of  Texas,  is 
perhaps  the  most  complicated  man  in  public  life 
known  to  this  correspondent.  He  is  at  once 
sentimental  and  distinctly  clear-eyed.  He  is 
tireless  beyond  ready  belief;  nearly  all  his  waking 
life  is  spent  as  a  furiously  functioning  one-man 
political  organism.  His  understanding  ol  men 
as  individuals  and  his  skill  in  dealing  with  them 
must  be  seen  in  action  to  be  credited.  Whether 
he  understands  people  in  the  mass  so  well  is 
perhaps  open  to  question. 

WHAT    DOES    HE    WANT? 

HE  IS  highly  ambitious— sometimes.  At 
other  moments  he  is  hurt,  disillusioned, 
and  his  attitude  says  clearly:  To  hell  with  it.  His 
drive  to  power  is  notable— most  of  the  time.  At 
times  his  streak  of  altruism  is  very  strong;  I  have 
seen  tears  of  gratification  in  his  eyes  when,  in  the 
middle  of  great  and  urgent  events,  he  learned 
of  a  success  at  the  bar  for  a  man  he  had  coached 
in  public  speaking  many  years  before  in  a  Texas 
high  school. 

He  values  money  but  is  careless  with  it  and 
of  it.  He  sometimes  storms  at  and  drives  his 
staff  people  but  always  he  cares  paternally  for 
them  in  every  sense,  including  the  financial.  He 
genuinely  respects  their  opinions  on  every  mat- 
ter, even  though  he  may  be  glowering  at  them 
at  the  very  moment  these  opinions  are  uttered. 

He  is  excessively  sensitive  to  criticism— or 
rather  to  criticism  from  certain  sources,  and 
especially  from  those  liberal  Democrats  whose 
beau  ideal  is  still  Franklin  D.  Roosevelt.  John- 
son himself  reached  the  House  of  Representatives 
on  a  platform  supporting  FDR's  "court-packing" 
plan  and  was  a  Roosevelt  protege.  He  is  peri- 
odically—or, rather,  more  or  less  incessantly- 
accused  by  these  liberals  of  having  gone  back  on 
liberalism.  But  who  has  in  fact  gone  back 
upon  whom  is  very  largely  a  matter  of  definition. 
Johnson  on  the  record  has  been  of  more  service 
to  some— though  not  all— traditionally  liberal 
enterprises  (notably  public  power,  public  hous- 
ing, the  defense  of  the  right  of  inquiry  and  dis- 
sent) than  have  most  of  his  liberal  critics  put 
together.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  unquestion- 
ably true  that  in  his  years  of  maturity  as  a 
politician  he  has,  on  some  issues,  kept  the  pro- 
fessional liberals  on  a  pretty  thin  diet. 


They  tend  to  regard  this  circumstance  as  a 
kind  of  betrayal.  His  view  is  that  there  are 
few  fixed  and  immutable  total  truths  in  poli- 
tics, and  that  il  he  has  served  the  liberals  no 
more  than  half  a  loaf,  they  would  have  had 
far  less  bread  il  he  had  acted  as  they  would  like 
him  to  act.  If  he  often  is  not  fully  aware  of 
the  validity  of  some  of  their  demands,  they  on 
their  side  almost  never  have  any  perceptive 
awareness  of  his  problems  in  dealing  with  certain 
intractable  realities— the  powerful  Southern  bloc 
among  them— that  will  not  be  blown  away  sim- 
ply l>\  proud,  hot  words  and  the  stand-and-die 
technique. 

At  all  events,  he  is  the  man  who  now  and  for 
some  time  to  come  will  be  the  nearest  thing  to 
the  operating  engineer  of  the  Democratic  party. 
1 1  is  all  but  certain  that  he  will  have  a  consider- 
able voice  in  the  selection  of  the  next  Democratic 
Presidential  nominee.  It  is  anything  but  certain 
that  he  can,  all  through  the  second  session  of 
the  Eighty-fifth  Congress,  maintain  the  desper- 
atel)  delicate  North-South  balance  of  some 
civility  that  he  has  thus  far  maintained  against 
overwhelming  odds.  It  is,  however,  quite  cer- 
tain that  he  is  infinitely  the  most  formidable 
guard  the  Democrats  could  possibly  find  to  keep 
harrying  watch  upon  their  most  brilliant  an- 
tagonist between  now  and  1960,  Vice  President 
Nixon.  Nixon  likely  could  win  almost  any  con- 
test with  Johnson  in  the  public  arena— as  of  now, 
at  least.  But  it  is  7  to  3,  or  maybe  8  to  2,  that 
the  Vice  President  will  meet  his  master  in  almost 
any  power  contest  with  Johnson  within  the  arena 
of  Congress  itself— except  possibly  on  civil  rights, 
an  issue  on  which  Johnson's  geographical  situ- 
ation ties  one  arm  behind  his  back. 

Given  all  this  about  Lyndon  Johnson,  as 
person  and  as  politician,  what  does  he  want 
and  where  is  he  going?  Among  those  who  do 
not  know  the  answers  to  these  questions  is  John- 
son himself.  Certainly,  he  wants  to  go  down  in 
history  as  a  great  figure  of  the  Senate,  and  this 
ambition  may  be  said  to  have  been  pretty  well 
reached.  Does  he  want  to  be  President,  though 
he  says  not?  To  this  I  can  only  offer  belief:  I 
believe  that  sometimes  he  does,  but  that  most 
of  the  time  he  does  not— genuinely  and  objec- 
tively does  not.  I  believe  in  short  that  this  com- 
plex, this  driven  man  (driven  not  unworthily, 
but  driven  just  the  same)  does  not,  in  the  final 
and  real  and  basic  sense,  know  himself  quite 
what  he  wants  beyond  the  fact  that  the  practice 
of  politics  is  his  life  and  his  great  need.  Politics 
to  him,  more  than  to  any  other  politician  I  have 
ever  known,  is  art  for  art's  sake. 


Gentlemen's 
Game 


A  Story  by  H.  E.  F.  Donoliue 

Drawings  by  Peggy  Lloyd 

^l  O  W  I  know  it  is  a  sin  not  to  believe 
1  your  mother,  but  when  she  said  I'd  have 
to  stay  on  the  parlor  sofa  so  she  would  not  hurt 
her  heart  going  up  and  down  stairs  1  laughed 
at  her,  which  made  her  sore.  She's  a  strong 
woman  and  I  told  her  so.  I  said  If  I  stay  down 
here  I'll  hear  the  old  man  yelling  all  the  time. 
A  lie.  When  my  Dad  gets  going  good  you.  can 
hear  him  all  the  way  down  the  pike.  What  I 
wanted  was  not  to  watch  him  as  he  shouted  or 
even  talked.  No  you  won't  my  mother  said,  I'll 
take  him  into  the  kitchen,  for  you  stay  down 
here.  And  I  did.  My  Dad  and  Eddie,  my  second 
brother,  moved  the  sofa  with  me  on  it  away 
from  the  fake  fireplace  over  to  the  front  window 
so  I  could  sit  in  the  sun  and  wave  at  people  on 
their  way  to  work  and  school  and  so  I  could  be 
kept  awake  by  the  big  trucks  that  go  by  on 
U.  S.  1  between  New  York  and  Philly  in  the 
middle  of  the  night.  Maybe  that's  not  fair  to 
say  that.  Nobody  knows  I  couldn't  sleep.  That's 
one  of  the  things  nobody  knows. 

I  broke  my  right  leg  on  the  first  day  of  school 


playing  football  six  months  ago.  That  started  it 
all.  It  was  the  sin  of  Pride  got  me  this  time, 
which  is  a  new  one  on  me,  because  we  had  just 
moved  onto  the  street  and  I  was  the  new  guy 
with  this  game  going  in  the  lot  next  door  and 
May  God  Forgive  Me  I  wanted  to  show  them  I 
was  tough  enough  even  with  the  glasses.  They 
said  Sure  but  find  another  guy  and  there  was 
one  standing  there.  A  guy  from  each  side  did 
one-potato  for  us  and  the  guy  that  won  picked 
the  other  one.  You're  too  small  for  the  line,  the 
guy  on  my  team  said  when  we  were  lined  up, 
Stand  here  and  try  to  trip  somebody.  So  when 
the  other  team  came  right  through  where  I 
was,  the  guy  with  the  ball  and  a  big  blocker 
coming  straight  at  me,  I  ran  into  the  blocker 
from  the  side  so  hard  he  fell  over  and  knocked 
down  his  own  guy  who  was  running  with  the 
ball. 

The  next  play  the  two  of  them  came  through 
the  same  way  with  the  big  blocker  looking  for 
me,  so  I  let  him  go  by  to  one  side  like  I  saw  the 
crazy  runts  do  with  bulls  in  a  movie  once.  Then 
I  tackled  the  ball-carrier  hard  enough  for  him  to 
drop  the  ball  to  me.  In  our  huddle  one  of  our 
guys  said  Give  it  to  the  runt,  meaning  me,  They 
won't  look  for  him  to  carry  it.  So  I  got  the  ball. 
Who  cares?  I  got  the  ball  and  I  went  around 
the  end  so  fast  I  was  ahead  of  my  blocker  and 
there  was  the  big  guy  I'd  pushed  over  and  side- 
stepped, squatting  there  waiting  for  me  as  if  he 
was  happy  about  everything  in  the  whole  world. 
When  I  jumped  over  him  he  grabbed  my  ankle. 
Because  of  the  sin  of  Pride  I  kept  on  going, 
dragging  him,  when  two  others  hit  me  and  I 
heard  the  sound  breaking.  It  is  an  awful  sound. 
Some  people  say  it  sounds  like  a  dry  stick  break- 
ing.  It  does  not.    It  sounds  like  a  live  bone. 

Well,  instead  of  staying  at  the  hospital  two 
weeks,  I  stayed  six  because  the  guys  picked  me 
up  and  put  me  into  a  car  so  my  foot  turned  as 
I  waited  for  the  bones  to  pop  out  below  the 
knee,  which  they  didn't,  while  my  mother  stood 
on  our  front  porch  with  her  hand  on  the  side  of 
her  face  looking  at  a  wall,  but  they  had  to  set 
the  thing  three  times  and  the  last  time  they  had 
me  under  for  three  hours  where  I  had  a  dream 
I  can't  tell  about,  to  put  wires  in  it,  and  the 
whole  Goddam  thing  scared  Hell  out  of  me.  (I 
tried  that  to  see  how  it  looks.  I  don't  curse 
because  I'm  going  to  be  a  priest  when  I  go  to 
college.)  That  was  last  September. 

Everybody's  always  telling  me  something,  so 
everybody  told  me  I'd  be  in  a  cast  for  only  six 
weeks  able  to  walk  with  it  right  away.  Some- 
thing happened  I  guess.   I  was  in  four  different 


60 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


casts  with  the  wires  sticking  out  of  where  my 
ankle  and  knee  should  be  in  the  first  three.  I 
was  in  four  casts  for  the  last  six  months.  The) 
just  took  the  last  one  off  and  I  am  supposed  to 
walk  with  a  cane,  hut  who  wants  to?  For  li\<- 
of  those  six  months  I  sat  on  that  sofa,  downstairs 
at  home  on  the  parlor  sofa,  the  fust  time  our 
parlor  or  that  sofa  has  been  used  thai  much 
since  ni\  brother  Kevin  died  ten  years  ago,  and 
I  could  not  get  away  from  my  father  as  1  had 
done  since  I  can  remember,  a  very  long  wa\ 
back,  back  before  Kevin  died  even,  when  I  was 
four.  I  got  mad  at  my  mother  about  it,  imagine 
that.  I  ;^oi  mad,  I  guess,  because  I  got  away 
from  my  Dad  by  being  in  the  hospital  because 
he  only  came  to  see  me  once  and  during  those 
six  weeks  I  had  a  funny  kind  of  wonderful  time. 

My  mother  would  come  of  course  and  put  her 
head  on  my  bed  and  cry  or  say  Christ  Preserve 
Us  that  hurricane  wiped  away  Watch  Hill.  Why 
she  worried  about  a  place  too  rich  for  us  to  even 
look  at  on  vacation  trips  I'll  not  know. 

Besides,  all  the  nurses  were  so  nice  to  me. 
They  even  made  good  jokes  about  my  fourteenth 
birthday  party  being  in  the  children's  ward 
where  I  stayed  because  it  was  cheaper,  even  if  my 
mother  did  say  I  was  moved  there  to  have  more 
company.  Some  company.  But  the  nurses,  the 
nurses.  I  still  remember  one  of  them  so  much 
I  have  to  make  sure  not  to  have  impure  thoughts 
about  her,  like  kissing  her.  But  I  remember  her. 
I  remember  how  I  use  to  hide  my  birthday  radio 
under  the  covers  when  somebody  was  singing 
and  move  my  mouth  to  fit  the  words  and  she 
would  call  me  some  clown.  He  does  have  a  voice 
she  told  another  nurse,  and  that  may  be  but 
I  think  it  is  changing. 

Last  Easter  when  I  was  going  to  our  Catholic 
school— you  see  we  can't  afford  the  Catholic 
High  so  I'm  going  to  the  public  one  and  that's 
where  I  was  the  first  day  of  ninth  grade  when 
I  cracked  the  leg— last  Easter  I  sang  alto  to  Jim 
O'Brien's  Irish  tenor  in  "One  Hour  with  Thee, 
O  Dearest  Jesus"  on  Holy  Thursday.  A  beau- 
tiful song.  Singing  it  makes  me  want  to  cry  some- 
times, but  I  don't.  Maybe  I  should  have  stayed 
singing  because  when  the  choir  Sister,  fat  old 
Sister  Mary  Bebe,  came  to  visit  she  was  no  help. 
Did  it  hurt  she  asked,  and  because  she  had  been 
wounded  in  the  world  war  twenty  years  ago  with 
a  mustard  gas  scar  on  her  thumb  I  said  No, 
feeling  proud,  and  she  said  Of  course  it  hurts 
and  now  you're  lying  and  why  aren't  you  going 
to  Catholic  High  where  this  would  have  never, 
never  happened? 

That    was    the    same    day    my    Dad    came. 


He  hates  hospitals.  I've  never  seen  him  so 
quiet  except  some  Sundays  when  he  stays  in  bed 
reading  all  the  newspapers.  He  even  seemed 
scaled.  But  that's  silly.  And  he  was  sober.  He 
stared  around  at  the  other  kids.  He  made  a  lace 
when  I  told  him  about  the  little  quiet  girl,  the 
one  who  tipped  over  the  boiling  water.  He-  kept 
brushing  off  his  spats  when  I  explained  why  the 
boy  next  to  me  couldn't  run  anymore  because 
of  rheumatism,  which  I  thought  only  old  people 
got.  Then  he  suddenly  got  up  and  went  away. 
He  didn't  come  back  again. 

So  1  didn't  see  him  again  until  they  brought 
me  home,  driving  carefully  in  the  snow  in  the 
afternoon  and  carried  me  up  the  front  steps  and 
carefully  through  the  door  so  the  wires  wouldn't 
hit,  onto  the  sofa.  Then  I  knew  I  would  be 
seeing  a  lot  of  him.  so  much,  much  more  than 
I  had  ever  seen  of  him  before.  And  I  did. 

HE  WOULD  come  home,  when  he  came 
home  about  on  time,  with  a  little  jag  on, 
yapping  in  a  phony  cheerful  way  about  how  I  was 
living  the  life  of  Riley  and  why  didn't  I  get  off 
my  ass  and  work  as  he  had  worked  at  my  age, 
even  earlier,  picking  the  bugs  off  of  potato  plants. 
Then  he  would  read  the  paper  in  the  kitchen  two 
rooms  away  talking  to  it,  about  everything  in  it, 
about  every  Republican  is  a  sonofabitch,  which 
nobody  should  call  anybody  because  it  means  you 
are  saying  somebody's  mother  is  a  dirty  dog.  Or 
else  they  are  shoemakers.  He  calls  people  shoe- 
makers because  he  is  a  tool-and-die  maker. 
Precision  he  yells.  Precision.  Within  the  tol- 
erance of  one-thousandth  of  an  inch  he  yells, 
that's  what  I  work  with.  But  he's  not  tolerant 
about  anything.  Then  he  listens  to  Lowell 
Thomas  on  the  radio  in  the  dining-room  one 
room  away  and  I'd  have  to  listen  to  him  listen- 
ing to  Thomas  and  yelling  at  Thomas,  who 
sounds  as  if  the  world  is  coming  to  an  end. 

That  was  when  he  was  feeling  good.  When  he 
wasn't,  when  he  came  home  late  anywhere  from 
seven  to  eleven  at  night,  banging  around,  us 
quiet,  having  been  quiet  since  six  when  we  knew 
he  would  be  late,  he  would  get  mean  and 
scream  about  running  the  house  and  paying  the 
bills  bringing  in  the  money  and  how  my  mother 
was  always  checking  him.  I  don't  care,  he'd 
scream,  I  don't  care  how  many  business  colleges 
you  went  to,  he'd  yell  at  my  mother,  You  are  not 
going  to  check  up  on  me  like  other  women  do 
because,  my  friend,  my  business  college  friend, 
I  am  not  like  other  men,  I  am  Stephen  A. 
Gahagan  do  you  hear? 

My  mother  did  try.    She  would  get  him  into 


GENTLEMEN'S     GAME 


61 


the  kitchen  with  the  swinging  door  shut  saying 
I  had  to  sleep  but  I  wouldn't.  I'd  listen.  I  heard 
all  their  talking  about  what  they  thought  about 
the  street  and  people  and  money  and  clothes  and 
God  and  us.  What  the  hell  was  Patrick,  my 
oldest  brother  doing,  trying  to  be  an  actor?  he'd 
yell.  Is  he  so  smart  he  can  quit  college?  And 
he  did.  And  Mary,  my  oldest  sister,  would  she 
ever  get  married  walking  around  in  flat  heels 
like  a  practical  nurse?  Eddie,  Eddie,  Eddie, 
Eddie.  He  is  too  Goddam  quiet,  that's  what. 
My  kid  sister  Grace  they  worried  about  too.  Was 
she  over  that  Goddam  mastoid  operation?  Oh, 
yes.  Oh,  yes?  Then  why  does  she  mope  around 
like  she  had  a  galloping  fever,  always  almost 
crying?  And  my  mother  can  never  tell  him. 

Now  they  would  talk  about  me.  That  one,  he 
called  me,  thinking  I  was  asleep,  That  one.  Will 
the  Goddam  leg  be  shorter  forever?  That  was 
the  first  I  heard  about  it.  No  my  mother  would 
say,  you  see  they  would  have  many  of  the  same 
talks  over  and  over  again,  No,  the  doctors  say 
no.  That  is  why  the  three  operations  and  the 
wires  and  the  time.  And  the  money,  my  Dad 
would  say.  The  money,  money,  money,  money. 
Holy  Christ!  Time,  my  mother  would  say,  time, 
he  needs  time,  a  long  quiet  time  with  no  noise, 
no  noise  at  the  very  all.  She  could  do  that  and 
I  am  not  calling  her  a  liar.  I  am  only  saying  she 
can  take  something  and  add  to  it.  Like  the  time 
she  talked  about  my  suffering  in  the  hospital; 
which  I  didn't  much,  except  for  the  terrible 
dream,  for  the  vomiting  after  the  operations, 
for  the  times  they  stretched  my  leg  on  the  wires 
since  it  got  shorter  in  the  twisting  when  they 
picked  me  up  and  put  me  in  the  car. 

But  she  didn't  talk  about  any  of  that  because 
she  didn't  know  about  it.  She  talked  about  the 
pain  around  the  broken  bone.  She  talked  about 
it  so  much  one  night,  she  would  talk  long  and 
soft  to  him  with  him  shouting  at  the  beginning 
and  her  feeding  him  bits  of  news  real  or  added 
so  that  he  would  suddenly  stop  shouting  to  say 
What?  What's  that?  Whose  suffering?  And  she 
would  softly  say  Oh  Michael's,  and  he  would 
say  I  didn't  know  and  she  would  say  Oh  sure. 
Then  he  would  listen  and  she  would  add  to  it 
softly  as  he  hummed  like  Ohhhh,  Hmmmm, 
Ahhh,  and  I  didn't  know,  I  didn't  know,  What 
else  then?  and  she  talked  so  much  about  my 
pain  one  night  that  he  came  over  to  the  sofa 
and  looked  down  at  me  while  I  acted  asleep. 
Then  he  went  back  to  the  .kitchen  where  my 
mother  went  on  talking  about  something  else, 
maybe  about  why  we  shouldn't  buy  a  new  used 
car,  while  he  said  nothing  until  he  told  her  to 


leave  him  for  a  while.  So  she  came  and  sat  in  his 
Morris  chair  by  me  saying  nothing  while  he  sat 
in  the  kitchen  talking  to  himself  softly.  I  fell 
asleep  listening  to  it. 


ANOTHER  night  I  woke  up  to  the 
laughter  of  our  church  janitor  who  had 
come  by  for  beer  with  my  Dad  and  I  heard  the 
janitor  tell  about  how  Father  Murphy  had  gone 
on  his  vacation  without  packing  any  roman  col- 
lars. Golf  shoes?  the  janitor  said,  yes.  Sport  shirts? 
Ah,  to  be  sure.  But  I  stake  the  value  of  my  ever- 
lasting soul  there  was  not  one  priestly  collar 
among  all  them  traveling  doodads. 

The  whole  sinful  thing  pleased  my  father 
because  he  could  say  There,  there,  loud  like 
and  happy.  There  I  told  you  and  the  heathen 
Buddhists  would  not  do  such  terrible  things. 

The  Buddhists,  think  of  it.  Now  and  then  he 
would  talk  about  the  crazy  Buddhists.  He  had 
been  sent  to  China  and  Japan  before  I  was  born 
to  set  up  silk-making  factories,  or  so  I  was  told, 
and  there  he  had  learned  of  the  pagan  religions, 
which  every  good  Catholic  knows  are  only  God's 
confusion  on  people  since  the  Tower  of  Babble. 
Then  after  the  janitor  left  my  Dad  said  The 
world  has  come  to  a  pretty  pass  when  I  have  to 
drink  with  the  likes  of  him. 

But  we  did  not  have  much  company  come  to 
our  house.  There  were  no  parties  and  what 
grownups  did  come  came  during  the  day,  all 
happy  women  glad  they  can  be  sad,  to  check 
with  my  mother  who  would  say  Aa-yah,  Aa-yah 
or  Holy  Mother,  we  all  have  our  cross  to  bear! 
Then  she  would  get  them  out  before  he  came 
home  so  she  could  be  working  hard  when  he 
walked  through  the  door.  Sometimes  we'd  have 
visitors  on  Sundays  when  he'd  stay  in  bed  while 
we  went  to  Mass,  and  while  we  had  dinner  at 
two  o'clock,  he'd  stay  in  bed  reading.  Nobody 
comes  other   times  because  they  all  say  he's  a 


1L4. 


62 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


drunk,  which  he  must  be  bul  he  never  misses 
work,  he's  up  every  morning  at  seven,  he  never 
staggers,  and  lie  can  drive.  One  night  he  even 
drove  home  with  a  broken  ankle  after  two  guys 
ran  him  down  alter  a  fiighl  in  a  bar.  That  time 
my  dad  came  crawling  up  the  front  steps  scream- 
ing for  my  mother  to  wrap  his  foot  so  he  could 
go  find  the  guys.  We  were  living  in  the  township 
then,  so  she  called  the  tops,  both  ol  them,  and 
they  came  to  talk  for  hours  with  him,  asking 
him  not  to  do  it  because  it  mighl  happen  in  the 
city  where  they  couldn't  help  him  and  what 
about  his  position  as  township  committeeman 
for  the  worthwhile  Democratic  party? 

Everybody  always  says  nobody  likes  my  father 
and  that  may  be  but  those  two  cops  stopped  him 
by  begging  him  not  to.  The  other  thing  was 
that  he  had  to  go  to  work  the  next  day  wrapped 
ankle  and  all.  I  was  six  then  but  I  remember  it. 
I  remember  sitting  on  the  stairs  with  my  kid 
sister  Grace  feeling  two  things.  I  felt  shame  that 
the  old  man  was  yelling  his  head  off  in  front 
of  the  cops  and  I  was  worried  he  might  have 
hurt  himself  bad.  You  figure  that  out.  All  I  can 
do  is  remember  it.  My  oldest  sister  Mary  who 
goes  to  Rutgers  nights  says  1  have  a  fabulous 
memory,  fabulous  she  says,  so  I  learned  the 
word.  Maybe.  Except  worry  is  what  I  remember. 
From  the  first  day  I  remember  anything  when 
I  was  sitting  in  a  high  chair  eating  warmed-over 
spaghetti,  I  remember  my  mother  worried  about 
my  Dad.  Because  of  the  worry,  I  guess,  we  left 
him  once.  What  a  mob  scattering.  That  was 
soon  after  my  brother  Kevin  died. 

I  WAS  almost  five  when  we  all  ran  away  in 
the  year  everybody  keeps  talking  about  as  if  it 
was  somebody  like  my  Dad,  crazy  old  '29.  But 
I  remember  it  and  I  remember  coming  back. 
I  remember  how  our  house  did  not  look  like  a 
house  anymore  even  though  all  the  lights  were 
on  in  every  room.  Two  empty  beer  bottles,  not 
our  own  small  ones  we  filled  in  the  kitchen  from 
a  barrel,  but  two  big  empty  ones  were  on  the 
round  dining-room  table  under  a  bare  bulb 
where  the  stain-glass  shade  with  tassels  should 
have  been.  He  seemed  too  glad  to  see  us,  acting 
like  we  had  been  gone  for  years  but  we  were 
gone  from  him  only  one  winter.  What  a  strange 
time  that  was.  He  was  very  quiet  and  acted  like 
a  church  usher.  Soon  though  he  lost  his  good 
job  and  the  shouting  started  up  again.  Sure  I 
remember  it.  But  what  good  does  remembering 
do  if  you  don't  understand  what  you  remember? 
I  don't  understand  even  what  I  want  to  remem- 
ber this  time  because  I  am  not  getting  to  it,  at  it. 


I'm  letting  other  things  move  in  here  when  all 
I  want  to  talk  about  is  the  changes  that  hap- 
pened because  I  was  laid-up  downstairs.  The 
changes  started  about  a  month  after  I'd  been 
home  when  my  Dad  saw  me  playing  chess  with 
the  Wig,  whose  real  name  is  Ludwig  Strauss 
hut  we  (all  him  the  Wig  hecause  he  has  so  much 
hair  and  because  of  his  name. 

He  is  a  good  guy  even  if  he  is  a  few  and  I'm 
not  sure  why  all  Jews  uc  had  even  if  they  did 
kill  Christ.  Ludwig  didn't.  And  he  is  my  friend 
and  he  is  smart.  That's  one  of  the  things  wrong 
with  me.  You  arc  only  supposed  to  like  people 
who  are  good.  Things  like  that  get  me  into 
trouble  and  there  is  no  one  to  talk  to  about  it. 
You  don't  criticize  your  family  outside  of  it,  but 
at  home  I  have  been  told  to  shut  my  smart 
mouth  too  often  to  open  it  when  I  wonder  about 
things,  which  I  do.  I  can  honor  my  father  and 
mother  as  well  as  the  next  Catholic,  hut  I  must 
he  better  at  it  than  most  others  since  I'm  going 
to  be  a  priest,  a  Dominican,  because  they  fought 
the  Arabs  and  teach  and  have  a  pool  table  in 
the  rumpus  room  of  their  seminary  near  Jersey 
City. 

Another  thing  is  that  the  Wig  is  smart  but  not 
all  few  boys  are.  Moe  Levine  is  a  dope.  Even 
the  Wig  says  so.  And  the  Wig  thinks  I'm  smart, 
smart  enough  to  learn  chess  anyway,  and  if  I'm 
as  smart  as  a  smart  few  what  does  that  make  me? 

What  I  want  to  say  is  that  when  my  Dad  came 
home  early  that  day  and  saw  me  and  the  Wig  . 
playing  chess  I  was  afraid  he  was  going  to  get 
terribly  sore  about  the  Wig  being  there.  I  never 
like  my  friends  seeing  him  phony  gay  either,  or 
drunk.  They  either  got  frightened  or  thought 
he  was  some  card.  This  time  he  had  the  cheerful 
act  on.  Only  he  shut  up  very  much  when  he 
saw  the  Wig  and  when  he  came  over  to  the 
couch  and  saw  us  playing  the  game.  The  Wig 
who  still  acts  a  little  formal  even  for  our  house, 
being  raised  in  Germany,  being  an  American 
only  a  couple  of  years,  stood  up  and  bowed  and 
said  he  did  not  want  to  intrude  was  the  word 
he  used.  But  my  Dad  only  looked  at  the  board 
and  nobody  said  anything.  Then  my  Dad  said  in 
a  funny  voice  You  should  finish  the  game,  and 
he  went  into  the  kitchen  and  closed  the  door. 
We  didn't  hear  a  peep  out  of  him  as  we  finished, 
the  Wig  winning,  saying  if  I  had  to  lose  either 
a  bishop  or  a  knight  early  in  the  game  I  should 
lose  the  bishop  and  I  should  not  let  my  pawns 
crowd  up  in  front  of  my  pieces.  Then  he  left 
saying  he  would  take  my  thanks  for  kids  visiting 
me  from  the  ninth  grade. 

So  I  waited  for  my  Dad  to  come  in  from  the 


GENTLEMEN'S     GAME 


63 


kitchen  and  tell  me  everybody  can  tell  a  Jew 
a  mile  off  (I  can't,  so  after  Ludwig  started  visit- 
ing me  and  told  me,  I  thought  to  Hell  with  it 
and  he  kept  coming)  and  what  the  living  hell 
was  a  kike  doing  in  his  parlor?  Even  though  my 
mother  had  muffed  it  I  was  sure  he'd  yell  about 
it. 

I  put  the  Wig's  board  and  pieces  away  and 
spun  down  the  piano  stool  we  had  used  for  a 
table,  waiting  for  him  to  come  in  and  shout  at 
me  or  laugh  at  me  or  say  something  mean  about 
the  Wig,  my  friend.  But  he  didn't.  He  sat  in 
the  kitchen  with  the  door  closed  for  a  long  time, 
so  long  that  my  mother  went  in  and  started 
talking  to  him  sweetly  and  smoothly  to  make 
him  laugh  about  what  she  had  done  or  seen  or 
heard.  He  told  her  to  get  the  hell  out  and  let 
him  read  his  paper.  She  came  in  and  sat  in  a 
chair,  not  his  Morris  chair,  with  her  head  back 
looking  at  the  ceiling.  My  kid  sister  beat  it 
upstairs  every  night.  I  got  worried  with  him 
being  so  quiet.  There  was  no  sound  of  the  paper 
pages  turning  and  he  was  not  talking  to  it.  No 
one  else  was  home  and  I  was  worried  thinking 
he  had  a  grouch  on  and  was  letting  it  cook  a 
while  before  he  started  in  yelling  or  throwing 
things,  slamming  doors  or  chasing  my  mother 
and  me  not  able  to  move  with  the  wires  sticking 
out.  Through  my  window  I  could  see  that  it 
was  dark  now  and  there  was  nobody  at  all  out- 
side. 

Finally  he  opened  the  door.  He  came  through 
the  dining-room  looking  funny  and  I  don't  mean 
humorous.  When  he  got  to  the  parlor  he  pulled 
up  a  small  chair,  came  over  to  the  couch,  spun 
up  the  piano  stool,  and  said  Get  out  the  pieces. 
Which  I  did.  Set  them  up  he  said,  you  can 
have   white. 

SO  WE  played  chess  together  that  night. 
We  played  chess  together  almost  every  night 
for  the  last  five  months  and  we  still  play  and  I 
guess  we're  going  to  go  on  playing  as  long  as 
we're  both  alive.  I  asked  him  about  it  that  night 
of  course.  I  said  I  didn't  know  you  played  chess 
and  he  said  There's  one  hell  of  a  lot  you  don't 
know.  Check.  And  we  played  and  he  beat  me 
then  and  the  story  came  out. 

It  was  an  old  Scottish  gentleman  taught  him, 
he  said,  on  the  old  Ventura  down  Australia  way. 
I  knew  he  had  been  there  and  to  Japan  and 
China,  but  nobody  talked  about  it  not  even 
when  he  got  moody  drunk.  Once,  when  he  was 
not  home,  we  brought  out  the  torn  kimonos 
and  wooden  ink  stamps  and  a  couple  of  old  fans, 
nothing  interesting,  and  once  I  saw  a  picture  of 


him  looking  young  in  a  crew  cut  and  kimono 
carrying  a  parasol.  He  must  have  been  drunk 
when  he  got  the  picture  because  he  wrote  on  the 
back  of  it  A  Japanese  Gentleman  Out  For  A 
Stroll  and  the  date.  He  had  gone  to  set  up  silk 
machines  there  the  story  went,  way  back  in  1921, 
but  nobody  talked  about  it.  A  few  years  ago  I 
watched  him  listening  to  a  Jap  talking  and  talk- 
ing on  the  radio  for  about  half  an  hour  and  I 
asked  my  Dad  what  he  was  saying  and  my  Dad 
said  He  says  its  cold.  Now  and  then  he  might 
say  being  picked  to  go  to  the  other  side  of  the 
world  was  not  bad  for  a  tool-and-die  maker  with 
no  education.  But  that's  all.  Nobody  talked 
about  it  after  they  moved  to  Trenton  and  he 
didn't  go  anywhere  but  to  another  factory  to 
work  like  everybody  but  the  rich.  During  the 
Depression  nobody  talked  about  anything  but 
work.  He  was  the  only  man  on  our  street  who 
didn't  sit  on  the  front  porch  rocking  away,  I 
remember,  and  I  remember  one  of  us  asking  our 
mother  what  we  were  going  to  do  when  he 
would  be  laid  off,  as  happened,  and  she  said 
He'll  find  another,  which  he  did,  but  not  always 
as  a  tool-and-die  man. 

He  didn't  talk  about  the  trips  that  night  we 
played  chess  for  the  first  time  either,  but  he 
did  talk  about  the  old  man  who  taught  him. 
An  old  Scottish  gentleman,  he  said,  had  noticed 
him  alone,  him  the  kid  from  Pittsfield,  Mass., 
walking  around  first-class  on  his  way  to  Australia 
and  gone.  Young  man,  this  old  gentleman  said, 
I  wish  to  play  a  fine  gentlemen's  game  but  not 
with  any  of  these  stuffed  shirts.  Sir,  my  father 
said  he  said,  I'm  glad  to  oblige,  thinking  maybe 
pinochle  instead  of  stud,  What  is  the  game? 
Why  chess,  young  man,  said  the  old  Scottish 
gentleman  on  the  Ventura  out  of  San  Fran  for 
Sidney  down  under,  A  fine  gentlemen's  game. 
How  sorry  I  am  Sir,  my  Dad  said,  But  that  is 
a  scholar's  pastime  and  I  was  not  permitted  to 
finish  the  eighth  grade.  Hah,  said  the  old  man, 
laughing  for  the  first  time,  You  act  like  a  gentle- 
man and  would  surely  not  be  up  here  with 
these  stuffed  shirts  without  some  kind  of  brains. 
I  do  not  know  what  to  say,  my  Dad  said. 
Why,  the  old  gentleman  said,  Say  it  would  be 
an  honor,  a  deep  honor,  for  me  to  teach  you  of 
course. 

So  that,  my  father  told  me,  is  exactly  what  I 
did  say  and  he  taught  me  and  your  lady  is  in 
danger.  After  I  moved  my  queen  I  asked  him 
why  he  warned  the  other  guy's  queen  as  well 
as  his  king.  He  looked  at  me  sharp  to  see  if  I 
was  kidding  then  he  said  I  was  sure  as  Christ 
made    little    apples    a    large    ninny.     Didn't    I 


64 


HARPER'S    MAGAZINE 


know,  he  said,  that  without  the  queen  there  is 
no  true  game?  Didn't  I  know  that  the  well- 
played  game  was  the  most  important  thing  about 
chess?  No,  he  said,  you  don't  know.  There  was 
one  hell  of  a  lot  everybody  and  his  brother 
doesn't  know.  I  shut  up  then  and  tried  to  beat 
him  that  night,  but  I  couldn't.  He  used  his 
knights  like  hammers  and  usually  got  at  least 
one  rook  out  early.  We  finished  so  late  he  went 
right  upstairs  with  no  fuss,  absolutely,  at  all. 

The  next  day  my  mother  went  out  and  bought 
one  of  those  card  tables  with  a  chessboard  in 
the  middle,  the  kind  advertised  with  four  men 
standing  on  one,   and   by   the   time   my  father 
got  home,  home  on  time  for  a  change  two  nights 
in  a  row,  she  had  the  table  up  and  pieces  all  out 
bunched  together  in  front  of  me  on  the  couch, 
his  Morris  chair  moved  across  from  me  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table,  it  took  her  a  good  half- 
hour  to  lug  that  rocking  Morris  chair  across  the 
room,  saying  Hush,  now,  Hush,  when  I  asked  her 
what  she  was  doing.   Then  she  got  his  bowl  of 
onions   and  vinegar,   his   paper   and   beer,   and 
put  them  all  on  the  other  side  of  the  table.   Be- 
fore he  came  she   told  me   to  shut  up,  that  I 
would  play  again  that  night  and  everytime  he 
wanted  to  and  even  times  when  he  did  not  want 
to  I  was  to  ask  him  to  play,   and   if  I  wanted 
peace  in  our  house  I  would  say  that  gentlemen 
do    not    shout   while    playing    the    gentlemen's 
game.  Hoo,  Lord,  she  said,  Gentlemen  now  each 
one.   My,  she  said,  sitting  down  so  she  Avouldn't 
hurt  her  heart  laughing.   Which  I  did  when  he 
came  home,  surprised  at  first  then  sitting  down 
as  if  he  had  sat  there  all  of  his  life  instead  of  in 
the  kitchen.    Only  I  didn't  tell   him.    I   asked 
him.    And  he  took  it.    He  laughed  a  good  way 
and  said  there  might  be  hope  for  me  yet  and,  no, 
gentlemen  do  not  shout  while  playing  the  game. 
It    did    not    end    all    of    the    shouting.     But 
there  is  not  as  much  of  it.    I  still  hate  it.    But 
I  am  not  afraid  of  it  now,  or  not  as  afraid.  Now 
I  am  getting  upset  with  my  mother,  which  I 
know  is  a  sin.  I  get  upset  when  I  see  her  asking 
for  the  shouting  when  he  is  sober.   When  I  was 
on  the  couch  I  woke  up  early  every  morning  so 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  saw  how  they  are 
in   the   morning.    He's   a   different   man.    He'd 
come  downstairs  and  over  to  my  couch  to  see 
how   I  was  doing.    Was   it  a  good  night  he'd 
ask,  his  face  not  red  like  when  he  was  drinking. 
Then  not  another  word  as  he'd  get  the  paper 
from  the  porch  to  read  in  the  kitchen  with  his 
breakfast  and  my  mother,  who  was  not  cheerful 
in  the  morning.    She  is  only  cheerful  at  night 
when  she  tries  to  kid  him  out  of  sending  mean 


telegrams  to  Lowell  Thomas  and  the  Republican 
party.  Then  my  father  puts  on  his  coat  very  fast 
and  goes  to  work  with  his  lunch  bucket  saying 
in  a  quiet  voice  at  the  door,  Be  good. 

But    my    mother    makes    him    ask    twice    for 
money    to    play    the    horses.     When    she    does 
that  I  kind  of  get  scared  because  I  know  we  11 
hear  about  it  from  him  the  next  time  he  gets  a 
load   on.    It   is   a   grand   night   when   he   wins 
now  and  then.  He  comes  home  saying  What  the 
hell  What  the  hell,  throwing  a  five  at  my  mother 
saying  Go  get  a  Goddam  bright  new  hat  so  you 
may  stop  looking  like  a  poor  gypsy.    But  she 
never  does.    He  gives  us  money  which  we  give 
to  her  so  she  can  give  it  to  him  other  mornings. 
But  Oh  my,  Oh  my,  that  is  not  the  real  big 
bother.  It  even  isn't  that  now  he  thinks  I  am  on 
his  side.  Before  he  never  cared.  Before  he  acted 
like  the  whole  world  was  against  him  and  he 
could  get   along  alone.    Now   sometimes  when 
he's    feeling    cheerful    smoking    a    good    cigar, 
griping  about  nothing  more  maybe  than  his  new 
bifocals.  Fifty  years  old  he  says,  and  I  am  going 
blind,  blind  I  tell  you.    Those  times  when  he 
ioshes  my  mother  he  will  act  as  if  I  am  on  his 
side    saying    Here,    here,    ask    gimpy    here,    ask 
Michael  J.  Gahagan  here.    Mike  am  I  a  reason- 
able man  or  am  I  not  when  I  say  it's  not  asking 
too  much  by  a  tinker's  dam  that  beer  be  cold 
and  coffee  hot  and  food  not  too  much  of  either? 
What  can  I  say?   He  is  right,  right,  right,  right. 
Not  about  everything.    The  Jew  thing  he  gets 
onto  cursing  all  of  them,  and  the  wops  and  the 
polacks  and   the   niggers   and   the   English,   the 
English  who  have  been   killing  people  in   the 
old  country  for  seven  hundred  years  by  making 
them   run    around    trees    until    they    are    dead 
dead    dead.    I  call  him  on  some  things,  afraid 
everytime  I  try,  but  I  have  to  do  it  each  time 
why  I  don't  know.   Now  I  go  to  school  with  all 


GENTLEMEN'S     GAME 


65 


kinds  of  people.  The  two  months  I've  been  to 
school  I've  met  wops  and  they  are  not  greasy. 
I've  even  talked  to  a  nigger,  a  guy  who's  always 
clowning  around  laughing,  but  he  knows  the 
answers  in  math  class. 

And  the  big  bother  is  not  even  that  my  father, 
my  Dad,  seems  to  like  it  sometimes  when  I  talk 
back  to  him.  If  I  catch  him  on  something  that 
doesn't  make  sense  he  laughs  and  says  You'll 
make  out,  you'll  make  out.  When  I'm  wrong  he 
only  says  In  ten  years  you'll  know  more.  I  called 
him  on  the  Jew  thing  with  the  Wig.  One 
night  he  said  What  a  fine  boy  that  is  who  taught 
you  how  to  play  this  game  so  well.  I  said  It's  too 
bad  he's  a  Jew.  He  jerked  his  head  back  as  if  I 
had  swung  at  him  and  yelled  What  the  hell  dif- 
ference. He  didn't  finish  it.  Then  he  said  Don't 
get  funny  with  me.  He  said  I'll  knock  your 
smart  block  off  if  you  start  poking  fun  with  me. 
He  said  Move,  smart  guy.  That  worked.  Now 
the  Wig  comes  around  all  the  time.  Once  he 
brought  his  violin  and  played  it  and  went  home 
and  my  mother  walked  around  saying  What  a 
gift,  What  a  gift,  And  so  young.  My  Dad  could 
only  say  Beautiful,  Beautiful.  But  I  have  to  be 
careful. 

And  the  big  bother  is  not  that  I  can  beat  him 
at  the  game  all  the  time  now,  even  when  he 
cheats  while  I  go  to  the  toilet,  and  we  play  for 
money,  a  dollar  a  game  which  I  always  win  and 
give  to  my  mother.  One  night  I  was  tired  and 
lost  three  of  her  dollars  to  him  and  she  looked 
at  me  as  if  I  was  on  his  side.  How  she  loves  to 
have  him  lose.  How  he  loves  to  win.  How  he 
loves  to  talk  when  he  seems  sure  I'm  listening  to 
him,  when  he's  only  a  little  drunk  and  wants  to 
tell  me  something,  why  I  don't  know,  but  he 
talks  as  if  he's  talking  to  himself,  as  if  I  am  him 
and  he's  talking  to  himself,  not  me  or  anyone 
else.  He  tells  me  things  I  don't  think  he's  told 
my  mother  because  she  sits  reading  most  of  the 
time  we  play  except  when  he  starts  talking  that 
way  she  puts  down  the  paper,  or  she  did  until 
he  noticed  her  listening  and  yelled  What  the 
hell  are  you  staring  at,  madam,  you  mind  your 
own  Goddam  p's  and  q's.  So  now  she  does  not 
put  down  the  paper  but  I  have  hunches  when 
she  is  listening  to  him.  She  listens  when  he 
sounds  like  a  different  person,  not  a  stranger,  but 
somebody  else.  He  talks  a  lot  about  his  training 
as  a  machinist,  what  he  calls  his  apprenticeship. 

When  Dad's  not  talking  about  his  apprentice- 
ship, and  I  guess  he  talks  a  lot  about  that  be- 
cause he  started  it  when  he  was  my  age,  he  talks 
about  how  big  the  world  is  in  Asia,  so  many 
more  people  than  over  here  and  not  Christian 


let  alone  Catholic.  Add  Africa  to  that,  he 
says,  and  who  the  hell  do  we  think  we  are?  It's 
so  big  over  there,  he  says,  you  can't  think  of 
it  all  at  once,  you  have  to  travel  it.  Then  he 
talks  sometime  about  when  he  owned  his  own 
house  in  Pittsfield,  and  never  worried  about 
money,  money,  money,  money.  He  starts  getting 
sore  about  money  and  how  there's  not  enough 
of  it  and  him  with  so  many  kids.  And  I  hear  so 
much  about  the  factory  where  he  works  I  feel 
I  know  the  guys  and  they  sound  awful  dumb 
and  dirty-minded.  Which  is  part  of  the  big 
bother. 

Sometimes,  you  see,  he  seems  to  be  talking 
about  all  those  things  together,  and  his  mother 
and  father,  and  good  whiskey  and  gambling, 
learning  and  health,  all  of  them  and  more 
together  and  I  do  not  understand.  I  try  to  but 
I'm  not  sure  I  want  to.  As  the  Sisters  used  to 
say  don't  try  to  understand  too  much  like  the 
doctor  did  who  drank  the  chemicals  and  brought 
the  Devil  in  him  out.  I'm  not  afraid  of  the  Devil 
if  I  understand  all  of  my  Dad,  but  I  want  to 
stay  away  from  it.    Why  I  don't  know. 

TH  E  big  trouble,  the  bother,  you  see  is 
maybe  a  silly  thing.  I  asked  Father  Murphy 
once  and  he  did  not  want  to  talk  about  it.  He 
said  my  Dad  was  in  trouble  because  he's  stopped 
his  Easter  Duty.  I  know  he's  in  trouble  but  there 
is  more  to  it  than  that. 

It  was  something  my  father,  my  Dad,  said  you 
see.  It  was  that  first  night  we  played  the  game. 
As  he  started  to  go  up  the  stairs  to  bed,  to  sleep, 
I  asked  him  a  question.  I  said  Who  have  you 
played  with  since  the  old  Scottish  gentleman? 
He  turned  on  the  stairs  and  looked  at  me  like  I 
was  in  some  dark  room.  But  all  the  lights  were 
on.  My  mother  only  stood  and  yawned.  Then 
when  he  saw  I  wasn't  joking  he  turned  around 
and  started  up  the  steps  answering  me  as  he 
went  up  alone.  He  said  Who  the  hell  did  I  ever 
meet  after  that,  going  where  I  went,  doing  what 
I  do,  who  knows  the  splendid  game? 

So  I  am  bothered  by  such  a  silly  thing  as  the 
fact  that  nobody,  nobody  ever  knew  my  father, 
my  Dad,  could  play  chess,  a  fine  smart  grand 
game.  And  what  else  don't  we  know  about  him? 
All  this  has  made  we  wonder  now  if  my  Dad 
who  is  wrong  about  many  things  is  as  wrong 
about  everything  as  everybody  says  he  is  and  if 
he  isn't  then  I'm  in  trouble  because  a  lot  of 
other  people  and  things  are.  I  don't  know.  All 
I  know  is  everybody  has  to  talk  secretly  to  some- 
body else  even  if  that  somebody  is  yourself. 
Which   is   what    I    am   doing.    But   I'm   scared. 


Gerald   Svkes 


The  Dialogue 
of  Freud 
and  Jung 


Why  the  most   famous   fVml  in   t lie  history 

of  psychoanalysis   may   produce  some 

unexpectedly   useful    results      if    the    partisans 

on   both   sides   will    ever   admit    thai 

each  of  their  great  leaders  was  dealing 

with  only  one  part  of  the  human  mind. 


T 


II  E  dispassionate  calm  ol  scientists  is  tra- 
ditional. I  too  believed  in  it— until  I 
began  to  look  at  them  scientifically.  As  a  novel- 
ist and  literary  critic,  I  had  taken  an  amateur's 
interest  in  psychology,  written  a  few  articles 
about  it,  and  finalb  signed  a  contract  with  a 
publisher  to  do  a  book  about  it.  Thereafter 
I  mel  psychologists  by  the  do/en  and  made  the 
discovery  that  they  were  every  bit  as  emotional 
as  anybody  else. 

Especially  on  one  subject— "that  thing  about 
Freud  and  Jung,"  as  one  of  my  literary  friends 
had  called  it  while  prudently  warning  me 
against  my  project.  Not  since  boyhood  quar- 
rels in  Kentucky  about  the  relative  merits  of 
Lee  and  Grant  had  1  encountered  such  polemi- 
cal inlciisiiv.  I  o  some  people  Freud  was  per- 
sonally responsible  for  most  teen-age  delin- 
quency; to  others  Jung  was  so  vague  and 
mystical  as  to  be  absolutely  unreadable.  To 
some  Freud  stood  lor  an  outdated  positivism 
that  now  impeded  any  clear  thinking  about  our 
real  problems;  to  others  Jung  was  anti-Semitic 
and  pro-Nazi. 

After   years  of   research    I    have   come   to   the 


conclusion  thai  there  is  no  truth  in  any  ot 
these  accusations.  1  believe  they  are  all  ration- 
alizations, and  rationalizations  to  which  many 
others   who   are   not    professional    psychologists 

are  also  addicted.  I  believe  that  Freud  and 
Jung  stand  loi  opposing  sides  of  the  human 
mind,  that  their  dialogue  is  central  enough  to 
imitc  comparison  with  characters  in  Greek 
Lragedy,  and  that  when  we  denounce  one  or  the 
other  we  merely  reveal  our  incapacity  to  con- 
front an  unknown  portion  ol  ourselves.  None 
of  these  accusations  would  stand  up  alter  close 
scrutiny  ol  the  lives  and  work  of  the  men  in 
question;  all  ol  these  accusations  have  been 
publicly  exploded  long  ago.  Yet  they  persist. 
Why?  Because  people  want  scapegoats  lor  their 
own  intellectual  laziness  and  their  own  spiritual 
c  ow  aidice. 

But  there  is  more  to  it  than  that.  Psychology 
establishes  such  an  intimate  and  powerful  hold 
upon  its  students  that  once  allegiance  has  been 
given  any  school— and  each  of  us  must  begin 
with  a  single-  school,  the  one  to  which  we  are 
naturally  drawn— a  complete  change  of  intel- 
lectual habits  is  required  before  we  can  even 
become  aware  of  other  schools.  And  then  our 
first  reaction  is  bound  to  be  one  of  pain  and 
distaste.  The  progress  from  psychology  to  com- 
parative  psychology— a  progress  that  many  peo- 
ple are  going  to  have  to  make,  unless  there  is 
to  be  a  return  to  the  rancor  of  the  religious 
wars,  with  modern  demagogic  complications- 
is  always  hard. 

A  briel  examination  of  the  lives  and  works 
of  Freud  and  Jung  will  show  why  this  is  so. 
Fortunately,  they  are  so  eloquent,  they  embody 
so  dramatically  two  opposite  sides  ol  the  mind, 
and  ol  contemporary  experience,  that  they  turn 
dry  elucidation  into  good  theater.  Together 
the)  form  one  ol  psychology's  most  far-reaching 
debates— and  an  excellent  introduction  to  prob- 
lems that  sooner  or  later  each  ol   us  must   lace. 

Fhe  name  of  Freud  is  usually  associated  with 
what  has  been  called  the  sexual  revolution. 
Actually,  that  event  began  long  before  him. 
Historically,  it  can  be  traced  to  the  industrial 
revolution.  It  began  in  fact  as  a  protest  against 
the  anti-human  tendencies  of  that  event  and  its 
poetic  forefathers  were  Blake  and  Whitman, 
each  born  in  a  land  where  factor)  smoke  early 
smudged  man's  ancient  rapport  with  his  in- 
stincts. William  James  has  identified  Whitman 
with  "the  religion  of  healthy-mindedness, 
which  was  characterized  by  its  hearty  belief  in 
the  flesh.  Fhe  faith  of  the  puritans  had  been 
replaced    by    the    faith    of    the    anti-puritans,    by 


THE  DIALOGUE  OF  FREUD  AND  JUNG 


67 


those  new  libertarians  who  "sang  the  body 
electric." 

This  lyric  movement  has  since  had  to  face 
the  counterattack  of  tradition,  and  is  intellec- 
tually on  the  defensive  today,  but  it  still  con- 
tinues as  a  protest.  The  typical  sexual  rebel 
believes  in  sex  with  religious  fervor.  His  rebel- 
lion seems  to  vary  according  to  his  sense  of  a 
lost  spiritual  heritage,  and  when  he  feels  him- 
self utterly  disowned  of  a  tradition  that  he  can 
accept— cut  off,  so  to  speak,  with  a  library  card- 
he  can  become  a  satyr.  Orgasm  is  his  substi- 
tute for  feeling.  This  is  a  development  that 
Whitman  could  not  have  foreseen.  The  effect 
of  industrialism  upon  love  has  been  so  drastic 
as  to  make  a  great  many  people  demand  physi- 
cal gratification  in  lieu  of  every  other  amorous 
reward.  It  has  generated  an  unprecedented 
mass  fear  of  impotence.  In  a  world  of  steel 
and  asphalt  sex  becomes  the  one  green  thing. 
It  takes  over  aspects  of  the  divine. 

There  has  probably  been  more  moralizing 
on  this  than  on  any  other  phase  of  twentieth- 
century  life.  Most  of  this  moralizing  has  been 
beside  the  point,  because  it  has  failed  to  take 
into  account  just  these  historical  cross-currents. 
We  could  not  want  a  better  example  of  why 
a  sound  understanding  of  psychology  must  pre- 
cede a  sound  understanding  of  morals. 

FREUD'S    VIEW    OF    SEX 

FREUD'S  ideas  on  this  complex  and  highly 
controversial  subject  are  often  misunder- 
stood. In  effect  he  wrote  that  sex  is  imper- 
sonal, nature  blindly  concerned  with  her  own 
propagation,  and  that  if  we  attach  the  wrong 
emotions  to  our  part  of  the  process,  if  we  remain 
ignorant  of  the  unconscious  forces  that  are  the 
principal  determinants  of  our  behavior,  we 
become  ill  both  in  mind  and  in  body.  Health 
requires  that  we  be  aware  of  these  unconscious 
forces,  which  originate  in  early  childhood,  so 
that  we  can  sublimate  them  in  socially  accept- 
able tasks. 

It  is  a  stern  doctrine,  but  it  has  been  con- 
fused with  moral  laxity  because  it  calls  for 
close  examination  of  a  subject  that  is  generally 
regarded  as  unsavory.  If  it  means  a  release 
from  inhibitions,  it  also  imposes— after  a  trying 
experimental  period  which  is  the  real  reason 
why  traditional  moralists  fear  it— still  stricter 
standards  in  their  place.  If  it  takes  a  deter- 
ministic attitude  toward  previous  morality,  it 
goes  on  to  demand  another  which  is  much  more 
difficult  to  observe. 


Perhaps  few  people  are  able  to  survive  mor- 
ally this  kind  of  experimentation.  That,  how- 
ever, was  none  of  Freud's  responsibility,  and 
those  preachers  who  take  him  to  task  for  apply- 
ing our  new  Faustian  knowledge  to  sexual  mat- 
ters would  do  well  to  be  more  honest.  He 
himself,  as  a  mere  glance  at  his  life  will  make 
clear,  was  a  highly  disciplined  man— if  anything 
over-disciplined— and  far  from  encouraging 
sexual  promiscuity,  set  up  as  an  ethical  goal 
a  "reality-principle"  which  is  considerably  more 
demanding  than  the  Ten  Commandments. 

His  life  is  now  attracting  the  biographical 
attention  it  deserves.  He  was  born  in  1856 
and  spent  nearly  all  his  life  in  Vienna.  Because 
he  was  Jewish,  his  scientific  career  was  impeded 
by  Viennese  anti-Semitism,  but  he  triumphed 
over  many  obstacles  and  became  world-famous 
during  his  lifetime  as  the  father  of  psycho- 
analysis. He  died  in  England  in  1939  after 
being  ransomed  from  the  Nazis. 

From  these  bare  facts  emerge  some  important 
considerations: 

(1)  He  was  born  into  a  period  when  natural 
science  was  confident  of  its  powers  to  explain 
all  or  almost  all  of  life.  In  the  biological  lab- 
oratory of  his  master  Briicke  it  was  taken  for 
granted  that  man  was  one  more  animal  who 
would  some  day  be  analyzed  and  explained. 

(2)  Freud  had  by  nature  an  extraordinary 
analytical  talent  that  was  especially  suited  to 
this  kind  of  dissection,  and  it  was  plain  from 
the  beginning  that  a  very  exceptional  career 
lay  ahead  of  him. 

(3)  In  psychology  he  encountered  both  a  sub- 
ject worthy  of  his  ambitious  faith  in  science 
and  an  opportunity  to  release  previously  un- 
known talents  within  himself,  talents  worthy 
of  the  name  of  genius.  He  was  like  a  poet 
caught   up   unexpectedly   in   his   masterpiece. 

(4)  Sex  seems  to  have  been  the  road  he  had 
not  taken,  the  life  he  had  not  lived.  As  a  family 
man  his  life  was  extremely  correct.  One  biog- 
rapher states  flatly  that  he  never  had  any  sexual 
experience  outside  marriage.  This  is  unprov- 
able but  significant.  It  suggests  that  the  man 
whose  name  more  than  any  other  is  linked 
with  broad  sexual  knowledge  had  little  of  it 
through  personal  experience. 

No  spinster,  certainly,  was  ever  more  aware 
of  every  erotic  nuance.  Sex  was  his  poetry. 
Together  with  his  extraordinary  talents,  this 
was  what  made  him  so  persuasive.  But  he  was 
also  aided  by  the  fact  that  he  was  Jewish.  As 
in  the  case  of  Marx,  his  scientific  achievements 
were  part  of  the  expansion  of  a  gifted,  ancient, 


68 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


persecuted  people  which  had  only  recently 
emerged  from  the  ghetto.  This  people  had  an 
extraordinary  insight  into  the  evils  ol  a  decadent 
Christianity,  an  insight,  born  of  a  vigorous 
intellectual  tradition  and  a  long  experience 
of  injustice,  that  lent  itsell  especially  to  reduc- 
tive analysis.  Marx  had  reduced  the  evils  of 
the  political  economy  to  the  profit  motive  and 
predicted  that  under  Socialism  the  state  would 
wither  away.  Freud  reduced  the  evils  <>!  the 
inner  life  to  misunderstanding  of  the  erotic 
instinct  and  predicted  that  aftei  psychoanalysis 
the  mind  would  become  health).  Each  put 
his  linger  on  a  weak  spot  in  an  enemy  position 
that  he  was  supremely  qualified,  not  only 
through  his  private  talents  bul  through  his 
background,  to  expose  to  the  world. 

Ii  has  now  become  apparent  that  both  these 
great  insights  suffered  from  oversimplification. 
Men's  disillusionment  with  Marxism  came  ear- 
lier because  it  was  tried  earlier  and  on  a  larger 
scale.  This  has  led  often  to  a  denial  of  its 
values.  Freudianism  had  no  Russia  to  work  on, 
and  by  its  nature  it  is  less  on  parade,  but  dis- 
illusionment with  it  continues  and  may  diminish 
its  perceptions  for  those  who  need  them  most. 
It  is  nevertheless  a  very  powerful  movement, 
especially  among  those  urbanized  people  who 
have  felt  the  attack  of  industrialism  upon  their 
instincts.  It  is  particularly  strong  among  city- 
dwellers  in  the  United  States  today,  and  for 
just  this  reason.  Our  city-dwellers  have  usually 
become  aware  of  their  psychological  problems 
through  sexual  and  economic  frustrations.  A 
treatment,  therefore,  which  may  release  them 
from  erotic  and  aggressive  inhibitions  has  the 
dramatic  appeal  of  a  psychic  appendectomy 
promising  not  only  health  but  happiness  and 
prosperity  as  well.  It  is  the  sort  of  down-to- 
earth  treatment  that  makes  sense  in  a  busy 
market  place. 

jung's   timeless   therapy 

SO  FREUD'S  therapy  is  definitely  related 
to  the  industrial  revolution.  This  will 
become  clearer  when  it  is  compared  to  the  ther- 
apy of  Jung,  who  came  forward  a  little  later 
to  call  attention  to  those  aspects  of  the  inner 
life  that  had  been  relatively  unaffected— or 
affected  in  another  way— by  technology.  In 
response  to  the  needs  of  a  suffering  and  con- 
fused humanity,  our  period  has  produced  not 
only  the  specifically  contemporary  psychology 
of  Freud  but  the  relatively  timeless  psychology 
of  Jung.     The  two  unite  in  a  dialogue  admir- 


ably suited  to  comparison.  Not,  however,  to 
controversy.  I  hope  it  will  be  c  lear  why  a  partisan 
attitude   in   tins  debate   is   especially   barren. 

Offhand  the  timeless  quality  of  lung's  psy- 
chology would  seem  fatal  to  it.  Certainly  it 
does  not  appear  to  equip  it  lor  survival  in  an 
age  which  daily  grows  more  industrial,  more 
political,  more  warlike.  His  psychology  is  some- 
what like  a  Platonic  academy  in  the  midst  of 
;i  radioactive  battlefield.  It  differs  also  from 
our  socially  useful  academies  in  its  open  doubt 
of  the  intellect,  at  least  the  intellect  as  char- 
acteristically employed  today.  Far  from  admir- 
ing the  typical  mentality  of  our  urban  culture, 
Jung  mistrusts  it. 

Jung  was  a  Swiss,  and  his  psychology  rellects 
the  desire  of  his  people— and  of  others  like  them 
—to  live  an  orderly,  traditional  life  in  an  era 
of  violent  change.  In  contrast  to  most  Jews— 
who  are  born  inescapably  into  turmoil— most 
Swiss  try  to  stay  out  of  it.  Jung  cannot  be 
"explained"  by  his  Swissness,  any  more  than 
Freud  can  be  "explained"  by  his  Jewishness, 
but  in  each,  beneath  the  accomplishments  of 
a  truly  international  mind,  resides  an  imper- 
sonal element,  identifiable  with  his  people, 
which  helps  greatly  in  the  exposition  of  modern 
psychology,  because  it  polarizes  modern  social 
experience. 

Jung's  silent  invocations  are  rural  and  classic, 
rather  than  urban  and  modern.  Thus  his  work 
would  seem  to  be  as  anachronistic,  as  unreal, 
as  cultish  as  his  opponents  have  described  it, 
if  there  were  not  always  classic  problems  among 
the  most  contemporary  and  if  a  truly  modern 
consciousness  did  not  also  have  to  contend 
with  them.  It  is  Jung's  anachronism,  in  fact, 
his  seeming  irrelevance,  that  constitutes  finally 
his  greatest  strength— at  least  for  those  who, 
as  youth  deserts  them,  begin  to  realize  that  not 
all  their  problems  turn  on  childhood  influences 
or  the  encroachment  of  civilization  upon  in- 
stinct; that  there  are  other  problems  equally 
pressing  and  as  old  as  the  hills. 

But  to  understand  the  origin  of  Jung's  idea 
it  is  necessary,  as  it  was  with  Freud,  to  know 
a  few  facts  about  his  life.  He  was  born  in  1875 
in  Switzerland,  the  son  of  a  Protestant  clergy- 
man, and  for  our  time  has  had  a  life  of  privi- 
leged tranquillity.  He  has  been  a  paleontologist 
and  classical  scholar  as  well  as  a  psychologist, 
has  traveled  widely  throughout  the  world,  and 
lives  today  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Zurich. 

From  these  bare  facts  emerge  some  important 
considerations: 

(1)  Jung  was  born   into  a  period,  later   than 


THE     DIALOGUE     OF     FREUD     AND     JUNG 


69 


Freud's,  when  natural  science  felt  somewhat  less 
confidence  in  its  powers  to  explain  all  or  almost 
all  of  life.  Jung  was  therefore  encouraged  to 
devote  some  of  his  scientific  energy  to  philo- 
sophical problems  that  Freud  had  expressly 
excluded   from    the   purview   of   psychoanalysis. 

(2)  Jung  had  a  temperament  that  was  expan- 
sive rather  than  reductive  and  that  led  him 
in  time  to  rebel  against  what  he  called  Freud's 
"nothing  but"  analysis.  Gifted  with  a  robust 
constitution  and  a  robust  attitude  toward  nature 
—to  this  day,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two,  he  vaca- 
tions periodically  in  a  remote,  electricity-less 
house  that  he  built  himself— he  did  not  make  a 
poetry  of  the  biological,  but  of  the  divine. 

(3)  He  became  scientifically  as  much  inter- 
ested in  religion  as  Freud  had  been  in  eros,  and 
discovered  within  himself  a  similar  pioneering 
genius  in  its  study. 

(4)  Although  he  was  born  into  less  conflict 
with  society  than  Freud,  their  roles  have  been 
reversed  since  the  positivism  championed  by 
Freud  has  become  a  new  orthodoxy.  Now  it 
is  Jung  who  is  at  greater  variance  with  the  intel- 
lectual mores  of  his  day. 

Freud  believed  that  the  mind  of  man  could 
be  explained,  if  one  persisted  long  enough,  in 
terms  of  his  immediate  environment.  Jung 
believes  that  one  can  only  begin  to  understand 
it  by  going  back  to  all  of  the  many  factors  which 
entered  into  its  making,  which  lead  in  every 
case  to  the  remote  past.  It  can  be  demon- 
strated, he  says,  that  we  are  commonly  possessed 
by  archetypes  as  old  as  the  race  itself.  Such  a 
perspective  will  dismay  the  quick,  pragmatic, 
modern  temper,  which  can  only  feel  equal  to 
its  problems  by  jettisoning  most  of  the  past, 
but  such  a  perspective,  Jung  says,  is  the  only 
way  to  truth  and  health.  Once  Christianity 
was  overturned,  modern  man  had  to  face  all 
the  internal  demons  that  the  Church  had  kept 
at  bay  for  him.  The  way  to  rebuild  our  lives 
is  to  relax  the  will,  stop  being  merely  contem- 
porary, and  seek  harmony  with  nature.  Our 
troubles  are  erotic,  especially  when  we  are 
young,  but  they  are  many  other  things  as  well, 
and  the  first  step  in  dealing  with  them  is  to 
see  them  in  historical  scale.  Only  so  will  we 
find  a  durable  sense  of  purpose,  and  we  need 
a  sense  of  purpose  quite  as  much  as  we  need 
biological  fulfillment. 

The  roots  of  character  are  not  all  here  and 
now,  and  even  the  most  elaborate  auto- 
biographical search  will  not  uncover  more 
than  a  few  of  them.  Society  is  as  sick  as  Freud 
says  it  is,  but  we  need  not  be— if  we  are  willing 


and  able  to  become  what  we  innately  are. 
Such  a  restatement  of  their  positions  is  fair 
to  neither  Freud  nor  Jung.  Justice  would 
require  a  volume.  But  even  these  glimpses  will 
indicate  the  nature  and  sources  of  their  con- 
flict. And  if  we  try  to  understand  it,  we  see 
that  it  is  as  human,  as  fore-ordained,  as  mean- 
ingful as  the  conflict  between  two  heroic  char- 
acters in  a  Greek  tragedy.  These  men  are  not 
only  historic  personages,  they  are  also  parts  of 
ourselves  and  they  enact  a  play  that  goes  on 
daily  in  our  own  minds.  We  all  have  to  live 
in  the  vigorously  contemporary  world  of  Freud, 
we  all  have  to  live  in  the  archetypal  world  of 
Jung.  We  have  to  be  effective;  we  also  have 
to  be  in  harmony  with  nature.  To  do  both  of 
these  things  at  the  same  time  is  just  about  as 
difficult  as  any  demand  we  can  make  upon 
ourselves.  Our  natural  tendency,  therefore,  will 
be  to  take  sides  with  one  of  them  against  the 
other,  but  if  we  do  we  shall  neither  enjoy  their 
drama  properly  nor  make  the  best  use  of  it. 
This  will  be  still  more  evident  when  we  con- 
tinue their  dialogue  briefly  into  the  subject  of 
religion. 

UNCONSCIOUS     RELIGION 

OFFHAND  it  would  seem  that  Freud 
had  no  use  at  all  for  religion.  He  traced 
its  origin  to  the  small  child's  helplessness  before 
the  outer  world  and  to  its  dependence  on  its 
parents.  He  rejected  religion  specifically  as  an 
immaturity  and  an  illusion,  an  inability  to  stand 
on  one's  own  feet.  He  said,  "Science  is  not  an 
illusion.  But  it  would  be  an  illusion  to  suppose 
that  we  can  get  anywhere  else  what  it  cannot 
give  us."  To  an  American  friend  he  wrote: 
"To  me  the  moral  has  always  appeared  as  self- 
evident."  In  other  words,  he  took  morality  for 
granted  and  reasoned  that  if  he  could  get  along 
without  religion,  why  couldn't  other  men?  In 
this,  I  believe  it  can  be  demonstrated,  he  drew 
upon  the  unconscious  religion  concealed  in  his 
scientific  credo,  upon  the  unanalyzed  faith  that 
he  got  from  his  laboratory  training. 

Unconscious  religion— it  is  a  phrase  used  more 
and  more  today.  Anti-Communists  use  it  to 
explain  Communists— along  with  such  words  as 
"fanaticism,"  "anto-da-fe,"  and  "grand  inquisi- 
tors." Few  intellectuals  apply  it,  however,  to 
themselves;  they  prefer  to  think  that  they  have 
rationally  transcended  all  religious  motivations, 
which  at  least  will  never  trouble  them.  In 
other  words,  the  repressions  of  the  nineteenth 
century   have   been   reversed   in    the   twentieth. 


70 


HARPERS     MAGAZINE 


They  are  no  longei  sexual,  they  are  religious. 
I  ii  den)  the  man)  sided  urge  toward  erotic 
gratification  would  now  correctly  be  considered 
absurd.  No  absurdity,  however,  is  found  in  a 
denial  <>l  the  urge  toward  purpose,  toward  sym- 
bolism, toward  the  necessary  ingredients  ol  the 
will  to  go  on.  This  blind  spot  is  one  ol  the 
less  loi  i  unate  ol   Freud's  lega<  ies. 

Actually,  however,  without  knowing  it,  he 
himself  made  very  important  contributions  to 
religious  thought.  Three  ol  his  most  lamiliar 
concepts  will  illustrate  what  I  mean.  Narcissism 
is  a  deeply  imaginative  attempt  to  deal  with 
the  problem  of  evil.  The  inescapability  ol  sell 
could  hardly  be  bettei  symbolized  than  by  this 
amazingl)  astute  reference  to  the  self-love  that 
must  follow  us  wherevei  we  i;e>.  It  is  a  splendid 
instance  of  the  biological  honesty  thai  is  indis- 
pensable to  true  spirituality. 

His  super-ego  likewise  provides  an  invaluable 
distinction  between  morbid  sell-criticism  and 
the  healthy  self-criticism  needed  for  making 
truly  responsible  moral  decisions.  History  is 
full  ol  weaklings  terrorized  and  crippled  by 
power-seeking  priesthoods  through  perverted 
appeals  to  conscience.  Every  ecclesiastical 
reformation  has  been  in  part  a  purge  of  a  cor- 
rupt misuse  of  the  sense  of  guilt.  And  this 
is  no  longer  solely  a  religious  problem  but  now 
an  ac  nle  politic  ,il  one. 

Finally,  Freud's  death-instinct,  when  juxta- 
posed to  its  opposite,  the  life-instinct,  or  eros 
in  ils  fullest  sense,  is  seen  as  exactly  the  kind 
ol  symbolic  tool  that  Freud's  realism  was  bril- 
lianily  equipped  to  add  to  our  thought.  No 
one  can  fail  to  learn  much  about  his  own 
psychological  rhythms  by  observing  the  alterna- 
tions ol  these  two  opposing  instincts  within 
himself.  And  this  kind  of  systole-diastole  in- 
sight can  lead  to  a  philosophic  balance  that  is 
not  far  from  the  idea  expressed  by  Dante  in 
The  Divine  Comedy,  "In  His  will  is  our  peace." 
There  was  much  unconscious  religion  indeed 
in   Freud. 

There  is  in  everyone.  We  are  all  full  of  it, 
according  to  our  temperaments,  and  we  shall 
be  happier— or  better  able  to  choose  a  tragedy 
worthy  of  us— if  we  become  aware  of  it.  This 
was  the  discovery  of  fung,  which  he  announced 
at  a  time  when  such  a  point  of  view  had  Income 
scientifically  scandalous,      lie  said  he  had   found 

proof  of  the  therapeutic  dice  t  ol  genuine  relig- 
ious experience— of  the  role  played  by  faith, 
not  in  immaturity  but  in  maturity.  He  made 
an  issue  of  it.  He  announced  cures.  He  spoke 
of  highly  educated  patients  who  had  been  treed 


ol   their  anxietx   when  the  \   discovered  the  limits 

ol  reason,  when  they  rediscovered  symbolism 
and  mystery.     I  fe  wrote: 

"I  take  carefull)  into  account  the  symbols 
produced  by  the  unconscious  mind.  They  are 
the  only  things  able  to  convince  the  critical 
mind  ol  modern  people.  .  .  .  The  thing  that 
cures  a  neurosis  must  be  as  convincing  as  the 
neurosis;  and  since  the-  latter  is  only  too  real, 
the  helpful  experience  must  be  of  equal  reality." 

fung,  however,  was  by  no  means  a  naive, 
uncritical  enthusiast  of  the  religious  life.  He 
did  not  point  the  way  to  casv  faith.  Like  Wil- 
liam James,  he  saw  religion  .is  a  force,  subject 
to  the  laws  of  the  mind,  which  could  lead  either 
to  good  or  to  evil.  He  explored  the  different 
responses  to  it  in  different  types  of  men.  In 
the  face  of  Freud's  attempt  to  dismiss  it  as  an 
illusion,  he  drove  home  his  empirical  discovery 
that  it  was  .1  fact,  a  fact  that  could  not  be  con- 
veniently traced  to  the  nursery  and  forgotten. 
In  this  matter  it  seems  to  me  that  he  was  right, 
and  that  Freud's  own  life  and  work  prove  his 
point. 

FULL-SCALE     HATREDS 

ON  THE  other  hand,  how  many  peo- 
ple can  afford  to  live  in  the  epicurean 
detachment  that  Jung's  prescription  implies? 
This  is  a  question  raised  by  Jung's  opponents. 
Economically,  the  whole  trend  of  modern  life 
is  against  his  attitude,  which  is  bound  to  become 
rarer  and  rarer.  And  would  not  such  detach- 
ment lead  to  a  washing  of  the  hands,  in  the 
elegant  manner  of  Pontius  Pilate,  of  the  urgent 
political  and  social  problems  that  must  be  faced 
if  the  commonwealth  is  to  advance  in  decency 
and  justice?  A  civic  stance  acquired  in  lucky, 
war-free  isolation  is  apt  to  be  both  uncour- 
ageous  and  irrelevant.  Jung's  programmatic 
introversion  is  an  anachronistic  luxury  that 
could  only  be  afforded  in  times  free  of  unrest, 
times  not  at  all  like  our  own.  To  cling  to  it 
now  is  mere  nostalgia.  Such  criticism  seems 
to  be  the  core  of  the  opposition  to  Jung. 

The  core  of  the  opposition  to  Freud  seems 
to  be  that  people  are  not  as  simple  as  he  saw 
them,  but  many  rootless  moderns  have  embraced 
his  over-simplifications  with  a  monomaniac 
devotion  that  is  now  in  the  process  of  dehuman- 
izing them.  Our  urbanized  culture  is  produc- 
ing over-pragmatic  monsters  whose  cynical  first 
question  is  "What's  in  it  for  me?"  Freud's  real- 
ity-principle, therefore,  except  lor  some  over- 
impressionable  and   overprivileged   intellectuals, 


THE     DIALOGUE     OF 

is  only  so  many  words.  In  practice,  together 
with  the  ethical  lobotomy  that  usually  accom- 
panies it,  it  has  led  to  a  deplorable  oppor- 
tunism that  will  soon  lay  waste,  and  often  in 
the  name  of  decency  and  justice,  whatever 
remains  of  the  moral  foundations  of  society. 

There  is  plainly  an  element  of  truth  in 
both  these  oppositions.  Both  of  them  are 
emotional,  both  of  them  are  exaggerated, 
but  in  each  there  is  enough  basis  in  fact  to  have 
made  it  possible  to  rationalize  them  into  full- 
scale  hatreds.  That  is  why  most  people's  atti- 
tude toward  psychology's  most  heated  debate 
remains  bitterly  one-sided.  It  is  so  much  easier 
to  emotionalize  our  inner  conflicts.  It  is  so 
hard  to  live  with  them,  to  see  their  pros  and 
cons,   to  weave   them  patiently   together. 

How  to  weave  them  together?  That,  together 
with  the  interweaving  of  still  other  theories  by 
still  other  men  whom  I  have  not  been  able  to 
mention  here,  is  the  problem  of  comparative  psy- 
chology. It  calls  for  a  union  of  tension  and 
relaxation.  The  thought  of  Freud  is  essentially 
tense.  It  is  a  product  of  struggle,  of  a  life  th<at 
was  not  permitted  much  calm.  There  is  a  sense 
of  urgency  about  it,  and  its  goal  is  less  happiness 
than  effectiveness.  It  is  far  more  revolutionary 
than  its  opposite,  at  least  in  social  impact.  It  is 
more  startling,  more  dramatic,  more  in  the 
idiom  of  our  century.  It  prepares  men  for  sur- 
vival in  a  time  of  general  shipwreck.  It  is  above 
all  practical:  one  is  called  upon  to  eliminate 
one's  irrational  impulses,  by  becoming  aware 
of  their  childhood  origins,  and  to  strengthen 
the  conscious  mind.  Thus  only  can  one  accom- 
plish anything  worth  while,  right  any  wrongs, 
eradicate  any  ignorance,  make  an  impression 
on  an  indifferent  universe. 

The   thought   of  Jung  is   essentially  relaxed. 


FREUDANDJUNG  71 

It  is  addressed  to  those  who  wish  to  fulfill  their 
inner  potentialities  even  in  an  era  of  drastic 
change.  It  refuses  to  get  alarmed  over  financial 
and  political  crises.  It  is  a  product  of  relative 
tranquillity.  It  puts  a  minimum  of  emphasis 
on  social  adaptation,  which  it  regards  as  a  neces- 
sary first  hurdle  rather  than  as  a  life  work,  and 
a  maximum  of  emphasis  on  internal  develop- 
ment. It  is  especially  addressed  to  people  over 
thirty-five,  and  it  finds  scientific  sanction  for 
love  of  fate  and  attunement  to  nature. 

To  weave  together  such  entirely  different  atti- 
tudes may  be  necessary  for  the  creation  of  a 
truly  successful  human  being,  but  it  will  obvi- 
ously be  an  infrequent  accomplishment.  No 
wonder  most  people  would  rather  quarrel  ignor- 
antly  about  it. 

But  there  is  another  reason  why  Freud  and 
Jung  continue  to  provide  a  convenient  battle- 
ground for  quickly  stirred  emotions.  They  not 
only  embody  some  of  our  most  central  dramas; 
in  their  combination  of  elderliness  and  wisdom 
they  are  both  father-figures  par  excellence.  At 
heart  we  are  childish,  we  want  to  confer  magic 
on  imaginary  papas. 

An  unrecorded  part  of  history  is  the  expropri- 
ation of  magic.  The  priest  took  it  away  from 
the  medicine  man,  and  the  medical  man  took 
it  away  from  the  priest.  For  most  of  us  the 
mind-doctor  does  not  have  as  much  of  it  as 
the  body-doctor,  because  he  does  not  scare  us 
as  much.  But  for  those  who  get  caught  up  in 
psychological  problems  this  is  not  true.  The 
mind-doctor  turns  into  the  most  awesome  figure 
of  all,  especially  when  he  is  a  theorist,  a  name. 
We  shall  be  happier,  I  think— or  at  least  more 
ourselves— when  we  stop  conferring  magic  on 
anyone.  We  are  born  partisan.  We  do  not 
have  to  remain  so. 


FOR   ENLISTED   MEN   ONLY 


IHREE  Appeal  Court  judges  will  soon  be  asked  to  decide  the  standards 
to  be  expected  from  an  Army  officer  in  relation  to  his  wife.  For  Captain 
John  Frederick  Clear,  of  the  Royal  Army  Pay  Corps,  is  to  appeal  in  the  High 
Court  against  the  ruling  of  a  Divorce  Commissioner  who  said:  "It  is  not  per- 
missible for  an  officer  to  give  his  wife  a  jolly  good  hiding.  It  may  be  very 
gratifying,  but  it  is  not  permissible  in  the  social  circles  to  which  they  belong." 
.  .  .  The  Commissioner  said  that  Captain  Clear,  forty-seven,  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  dominate  his  wife  by  thrashing  her  "when  necessary."  He  had  thought 
it  was  an  officer's  position  to  give  orders. 

—London  Evening  Standard,  September  28,  1957. 


By  ALEXIS   LADAS 

Drawings  by  M.  T.  Mindell 


Father  Eugene 
and  the  Intelligence  Services 


How  a  Greek  monk — who  bought  a  monastery  of 

his  own — managed  one  of  the  oddest  hoaxes 

of  World  War  II  .  .  .  and  infuriated  the 

spy-masters  of  both  Germany  and  England. 

IF  1  R  S  T  saw  Father  Eugene  the  night  four 
of  us  were  brought  into  Calithea  prison  in 
occupied  Athens  in  the  spring  of  1943.  He  was 
then  just  a  bearded  face  in  the  crowd  of  prisoners 
that  jostled  behind  the  bars  to  watch  the  guards 
search  us  and  remove  our  handcuffs,  and  I  might 
not  even  have  noticed  him  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  color  of  his  cassock. 

Cassock  is  probably  the  wrong  term.  It  was 
the  sort  of  tight-fitting  dressing-gown  Greek 
Orthodox  clerics  wear  under  their  black  flowing 
outer  robes.  They  are  almost  always  of  some 
dignified  color— dark  blue  or  green,  wine- 
colored,  gray,  or  purple.  Father  Eugene's  was 
a  brilliant  ultramarine  blue.  Together  with  his 
luxuriant  growth  of  graying  hair  it  made  a 
startling  combination. 

His  beard  reached  halfway  to  his  waist,  and 
the  hair  on  his  head  was  twisted  into  a  truly 
enormous  bun  in  the  back.   He  was  a  handsome 


man,  with  baby-blue  eyes  which  looked  inno- 
cent and  incongruous  under  his  fierce  eyebrows. 

\<>  one  in  the  prison  knew  for  certain  what  he 
was  accused  of,  but  there  were  whispers  of 
strange  doings  at  his  monastery.  Some  said  it  was 
a  staging  area  for  British  prisoners  of  war  escap- 
ing from  occupied  Greece.  Others,  that  it  was 
the  center  ot  large-scale  black-market  operations. 
The  only  point  on  which  everyone  agreed  was 
that  he  did  in  tact  own  a  small  monaster)  in 
Attica.  He  was  the  only  monk  I  have  ever  heard 
of  who  had  actually  bought  a  monastery,  and 
I  used  to  puzzle  over  how  he  had  gone  about 
purchasing  it  and  whether  he  had  then  "stocked" 
it  with  monks  as  one  would  a  farm. 

In  Calithea  everyone  had  a  cover  story.  Since 
only  prisoners  awaiting  trial  were  kept  there 
and  there  was  the  constant  danger  of  informers, 
people  tried  to  conceal  the  truth  about  their 
cases  by  trotting  out  glib  and  usually  uncon- 
vincing versions  of  events.  Without  a  doubt 
Father  Eugene's  was  the  most  improbable  of  all. 
From  beginning  to  end  he  insisted  that  he  was 
the  victim  of  evil  magic  powers. 

During  the  long  months  we  were  in  prison  he 
was  repeatedly  hauled  off  to  the  dreaded  offices 
of  the  Axis  police  to  be  interrogated.  We  often 
wondered  whether  he  stuck  to  his  explanation 


FATHER     EUGENE 


73 


during  those  brutal  sessions  with  the  black-shirt 
boys.  If  he  did,  it  must  have  cost  him  many  a 
beating.  But  we  never  found  out.  A  rubber 
hose  does  not  leave  much  of  a  mark,  and  anyway 
no  one  ever  saw  Father  Eugene  undressed.  He 
himself  never  said  a  word  about  it.  For  all  we 
knew  he  might  have  been  collaborating  with  the 
authorities. 

PRIESTS     IN     JAIL 

ID  O  N  '  T  know  how  it  is  in  other  countries, 
but  in  Greece,  although  a  village  priest  is  re- 
spected and  addressed  as  "Father,"  even  by  the 
Communists,  he  is  in  fact  very  much  one  of  the 
boys,  a  man  with  a  job  to  do.  In  peacetime  his 
job  is  to  christen,  marry,  and  bury  people,  to 
say  Mass,  officiate  at  benedictions,  and  the  like. 
The  older  people  go  to  him  to  confess.  Some- 
times he  is  asked  for  help  and  advice,  but  usually 
he  has  enough  to  do  to  make  both  ends  meet  in 
his  own  household.  In  times  of  national  danger 
his  duty  is  exalted.  He  must  defend  the  faith, 
and  in  Greece  the  faith  and  the  nation  are  two 
aspects  of  the  same  thing.  The  attitude  toward 
monks  is  much  the  same. 

For  more  than  a  millennium  the  words 
"Greek"  and  "Christian"  have  been  synonymous 
to  the  Greeks.  They  have  preserved  their  heri- 
tage through  the  entire  Christian  era  by  guile 
and  luck,  stubbornness  and  courage.  They  could 
have  gone  the  way  of  the  Christian  Syrians, 
turned  Moslem,  and  lost  their  identity.  But  they 
did  not.  They  remained  Christian  and  so  they 
remained  Greek. 

As  a  result  the  faith  in  Greece  has  been  pared 
down  to  the  bare  bone.  It  does  not  matter  much 
to  us  whether  a  priest  is  educated  or  not,  so 
long  as  his  heart  is  in  the  right  place.  It  does  not 
matter  whether  or  not  a  monk  observes  his  vows 
to  the  letter,  so  long  as  he  is  prepared  to  fight 
and  die  for  his  faith  and  for  Greece.  And  Our 
monks  have.  They  have  died  alone  and  in  hun- 
dreds. They  have  been  killed  in  battle  and 
roasted  alive  on  spits;  they  have  been  ridden 
naked  through  the  streets  with  horseshoes  nailed 
to  their  hands  and  knees,  and  they  have  blown 
themselves  and  their  enemies  to  pieces  when  they 
could  hold  their  monasteries  no  longer.  In  times 
of  trouble  they  have  always  done  their  share, 
and  it  is  no  coincidence  that  monasteries  and 
churches  in  our  country  are  so  often  painted 
blue   and   white— our   national    colors. 

When  you  met  a  priest  in  jail  during  the  occu- 
pation you  had  good  grounds  for  giving  him 
your  confidence  and  respect.     You  could  almost 


always  assume  that  he  was  held  for  no  light 
reason.  There  was  one,  an  old  man  of  more 
than  seventy,  who  had  been  caught  distributing 
rifles  to  his  congregation  in  the  church  during 
a  funeral  service.  There  had,  in  fact,  been  no 
death,  and  the  rifles  had  been  transported 
through  the  village  in  the  empty  coffin  with  the 
priest  chanting  in  front  and  the  women  wailing 
behind. 

But  Father  Eugene  was  different.  Anything 
seemed  possible  with  him.  There  were  people 
who  warned  that  he  might  be  a  stool  pigeon  of 
the  police,  and  even  a  few  who  believed  that  he 
was  not  a  real  monk  at  all  but  a  British  agent 
in  disguise.  I  myself  tried  to  find  the  truth  by 
persistent  search,  and  by  engaging  him  in  con- 
versation and  asking  pointed  questions.  I  got 
what  I  deserved:  a  mass  of  interesting  informa- 
tion but  nothing  to  the  point.  My  curiosity, 
however,  quickly  grew  into  incredulous  affection. 

He  lived  in  one  of  the  least  desirable  cells 
in  the  prison  and  firmly  refused  to  move  to  the 
greater  comfort  of  Number  17— the  cleanest  and 
most  snobbish  cell— in  spite  of  repeated  invita- 
tions. He  always  went  to  bed  after  his  cell- 
mates were  asleep  and  arose  before  they  were 
awake.  No  one  ever  saw  him  wash,  yet  he  was 
always  clean  and  tidy.  No  one  came  to  visit 
him  and  no  food  was  sent  to  him  from  outside. 
He  never  asked  anyone  for  food  and  never 
refused  it  when  it  was  given  to  him.  He  could 
drink  like  a  fish  and  not  show  the  slightest  sign 
of  it.  He  could  bellow  popular  songs  or  chant 
Byzantine  hymns  in  a  pleasing  nasal  baritone 
voice.  He  could  lie  like  a  trooper.  He  loved 
jokes,  but  he  never  lost  his  dignity.  He  knew 
more  stories  than  anyone  I  have  ever  met.  He 
really  seemed  to  believe  in  magic  and  drew  a 
sharp  distinction  between  the  black  and  white 
varieties,  maintaining  that  he  abhorred  the 
former  and  practiced  the  latter. 

I  found  out  a  great  deal  from  him  about  his 
past,  but  nothing  that  threw  any  light  on  his 
case.  He  was  born  in  Tiflis  in  the  Caucasus 
and  fled  that  place  at  the  time  of  the  Bolshevik 
revolution,  taking  refuge  in  a  Greek  town  in 
Turkey  whence  he  was  obliged  to  flee  again  when 
the  Greek  army  was  defeated  in  1922  and  the 
Greek  inhabitants  of  Asia  Minor  were  being 
massacred.  He  told  me  that  at  this  time  he  had 
gone  aboard  a  Turkish  coastal  steamer  with 
other  refugees.  The  skipper,  seeing  the  turn 
events  were  taking,  decided  to  put  in  at  a  harbor 
held  by  the  Turkish  troops  and  hand  his  passen- 
gers over  to  the  authorities.  The  others  fell  on 
their  knees  before  him,  pleading  vainly  tor  their 


74 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


lives.  But  not  Father  Eugene.  He  whipped  out 
his  Smith  and  Wesson  revolver  from  under  his 
robes  and  forced  the  captain  to  put  about  and 
land  them  at  the  nearest  port  in  Greece.  For 
forty-eight  bonis  he  stayed  awake  holding  the 
pistol  to  the  captain's  head. 

THE  CHURCHILL  BROADCAST 

AT  CALITHEA  Father  Eugene  used  to 
come  ever)  morning  into  t ell  Number  17 
and  tell  us  the  news  from  the  BBC.  How  he  got 
this  news  so  earl)  nobody  knew.  The  rest  ol  us 
might  get  bits  and  pieces  of  it  smuggled  in  with 
our  lood  baskets,  l>ut  these  were  only  allowed 
in  at  noon. 

One  day  we  learned  that  a  very  important 
speech  l>\  Churchill  would  be  broadcast  the  fol- 
lowing  day  at  8:00  a.  m.  The  next  morning 
Father  Eugene  burst  into  our  room  bristling 
with  c\<  itement. 

*T)o  you  know  what  Churchill  said?"  he 
roared.  "He  said  our  bombers  over  Germany 
are  so  numerous  that  a  perpetual  twilight  has 
fallen  on  that  ill-fated  country.  He  said  that 
even  il  Germany  were  a  mountain  range  of 
granite  the  si/e  of  the  Himalayas  she  would  he 
pulverized  by  the  Allied  Air  Force!" 

We  were  all  affected,  but  I  It-It  a  little  uncom- 
fortable. The  words,  even  in  Greek,  had  a 
ChiiK  hillian  ring.  Hut  somehow  they  sounded 
too  boastful,   almost    childish. 

I  hen  in  the  silence  tin  drawling,  sneering 
voice  of  the  pitied  asked,  "Reverend  father,  is  it 
by  youi  magic  powers  that  you  tan  know  what 
Churchill  said  before  he  has  actually  said  it?" 
He  looked  ostentatiously  .it  Ins  wrist  watch.  "It 
still  lacks  a  lew  minutes  to  eight  o'clock,  you 
know." 

Father  Eugene  slowly  pulled  out  his  large 
old-fashioned  pocket  watch.  I  looked  over  his 
shoulder  and  saw  that  it  was  pointing  to  twenty 
past  eight,  hut  the  second  hand  was  motionless. 
It  must  have  slopped  the  previous  night.  Eugene 
shook  it,  then  put  it  up  to  his  ear.  The  color 
rose  to  his  face.  He  tried  to  smile,  gave  it  up, 
and  went  out,  softly  (losing  the  door  behind 
him,  as  if  he  were  leaving  a  sick  room. 

From  thai  day  on  it  became  a  kind  of  sport  to 
try  and  catch  him  out.  But  I  cannot  think  of 
another  instance  when  we  got  the  better  of  him, 

I  remember  once  he  was  telling  us  about  his 
\  isit  to  Mount  Ararat  where,  he  said,  he  had 
found  the  remains  of  the  Ark  jammed  in  a 
crevice  on  the  highest  peak.  He  described  in 
detail    the   colossal    hulk,   gave   us   heights    and 


widths  and  weights  with  such  precise  assurance 
that  we  began  almost  to  believe  him.  Then  one 
ol  us  who  was  an  engineer  and  a  Cambridge 
graduate  spoke  up.  "How  large  were  the  nails?" 
he  asked. 

Father  Eugene  did  not  hesitate  a  moment, 
onh  his  \oi(e  became  more  confidential.  "Ah 
yes,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  about  that,"  he  said.  "It 
was  beautifully  done,  all  held  together  with 
enormous  wooden  pegs,  perfectly  luted.  Not  a 
single  nail  anywhere  because  as  you  know,  boys, 
as  even  a  man  from  Cambridge  ought  to  know, 
they  had  not  invented  iron  at  the  time  of  the 
Hood." 

His  worst  lest  was  with  the  obscene  movies. 
The  prefect  had  a  deal  with  the  Italian  Com- 
mandant whereby  he  was  allowed  to  show  movies 
in  the  prison.  The  arrangement  was  that  the 
Commandant  would  get  the  movies  first  in  order 
to  "censor"  them.  Apparently  these  censoring 
sessions  were  quite  some  parties,  to  which  the 
friends  ol  the  Commandant  and  their  Iloo/ies 
were  invited.  The  main  attraction  was  some 
dirty  movies  which  the  prefect  had  in  his  col- 
lec  (ion. 

Father  Eugene  enjoyed  movies  but  always 
refused  to  watch  the  dirty  ones.  The  prelect 
dec  tded  to  play  a  trick  on  him.  It  was  announced 
that  a  good  patriotic  movie  would  be  shown.  I 
did  not  realize  what  was  up  until  I  was  jammed 
next  to  Father  Eugene  in  the  hack  of  the  room 
watching  what  seemed  to  he  the  end  of  a  movie 
about  Nathan  Hale  when  the  prelect  whispered 
in  my  ear  that  the  reels  had  been  changed  and  an 
obscene  one  had  been  tacked  on.  A  few  minutes 
later,  withoul  warning,  an  enormous  bate  behind 
supplanted  Nathan  Hale.  There  was  a  roar  of 
applause  from  the  onlookers.  Father  Eugene 
gave  a  little  gasp  but  made  no  move  to  leave. 
He  just  put  his  head  down  and  did  not  lift  il 
once  lor  nearly  two  hours.  I  know.  I  was 
watching  him  all  the  time,  wondering  whether 
I  could  possibly  have  done  it  myself.  When  the 
lights  went  on  and  the  prelect  slapped  him  on 
the  back  and  asked  him  how  he  had  liked  the 
picture.  Father  Eugene  did  not  even  tell  him  that 
he  had  not  seen  it. 

At  about  this  time  events  stalled  moving  last, 
both  lor  the  world  and  for  us  in  prison.  The 
campaign  in  North  Africa  was  won.  I  and  two 
of  my  friends  on  the  other  hand  were  tried, 
found  guilty,  and  condemned  to  death  lor  espi- 
onage. We  were  given  a  farewell  dinner  by  our 
friends  at  Calithea  at  which  Father  Eugene  said 
grace.  Then  we  were  handcuffed  and  chained  for 
the  journey  to  Averoll,  the  vast  and  impregnable 


FATHER     EUGENE 


75 


criminal  prison  of  Athens,  there  to  await  execu- 
tion or  commutation  of  sentence  to  life  imprison- 
ment. 

As  we  were  standing  in  the  central  cage  wait- 
ing for  the  guards  to  lead  us  off,  Father  Eugene 
passed  his  hand  through  the  bars  and  patted  my 
arm  with  unexpected  diffidence.  "Keep  a  place 
warm  for  me  where  you  are  going,"  he  mumbled 
and  stalked  off  to  hide  his  embarrassment.  It  was 
the  first  time  he  had  ever  given  a  hint  of  what  he 
thought  was  in  store  for  him.  I  wondered  to 
which  particular  destination  he  was  referring— 
Averoft  prison  or  the  other  place. 


A     MASS     TO     OUR     LADY 

IT  WAS,  I  believe,  on  the  tenth  of  August, 
in  the  courtyard  of  Averoff,  that  I  saw  Father 
Eugene  again.  I  recognized  him  among  the 
stream  of  ordinary  prisoners  crossing  in  front  of 
the  special  enclosure  for  those  sentenced  to  death. 
He  came  toward  me  waving  and  smiling,  and  to 
my  amazement  the  guards  did  not  stop  him.  He 
took  me  in  his  arms,  kissed  me  on  both  cheeks, 
and  wished  me  many  happy  returns  of  the  day. 

"This  is  a  great  day,"  he  said.  "I  have  permis- 
sion from  the  Commandant  to  say  Mass  in  the 
courtyard.  May  the  Virgin  vouchsafe  us  a  mira- 
cle," he  added,  using  the  time-honored  expres- 
sion. 

"On  what  occasion,  Father?"  I  asked. 

"A  great  day,  my  boy,  a  day  of  great  rejoicing. 
Our  Lady  is  rising  up  to  Heaven,"  he  said  and 
winked  knowingly. 

I  was  completely  mystified.  The  feast  of  the 
Assumption  of  the  Virgin  was  still  five  days  off. 
But  you  don't  ask  the  same  question  twice  in 
prison,  and  in  any  case  Eugene  was  on  his  way. 

Before  he  reached  the  gate  he  turned  back  and 
called,  "Don't  miss  it.  Try  to  be  there!" 

As  it  turned  out  there  was  no  difficulty.  Our 
Italian  guards  were  curious  to  see  a  Greek  Ortho- 
dox Mass  and  we  condemned  men  were  escorted 
into  the  main  courtyard  in  great  style. 

On  the  raised  platform  from  which  the  Com- 
mandant used  to  make  his  announcements  was 


a  table  covered  with  a  white  tablecloth,  and  on 
it  two  candlesticks,  a  cross,  a  chalice,  and  a  Bible. 
Behind  stood  Father  Eugene,  in  gold-embroidered 
robes.  Where  he  got  them  God  knows.  On  either 
side  of  him  was  an  acolyte  swinging  a  censer. 

When  we  arrived  the  service  had  just  started. 
The  sonorous  words  poured  forth  in  the  ancient 
nasal  singsong.  Statement  was  followed  by  re- 
sponse, the  wine  was  blessed,  the  Lord's  prayer 
was  recited,  a  hymn  was  sung.  I  am  not  a  regular 
churchgoer,  but  I  knew  by  heart  the  words  of 
that  hymn.  Every  Greek  does.  It  is  perhaps  the 
most  celebrated  piece  of  Byzantine  music  ever 
written,  composed  early  in  the  seventh  century 
when  Constantinople  was  delivered  from  the  be- 
sieging horde  of  savages— the  Avars. 

Father  Eugene's  voice  swelled  and  thundered 
over  the  ponderous  notes,  and  gradually  a  few 
prisoners  joined  in.  But  before  the  singing  could 
become  general  something  happened.  It  took  a 
while  for  the  knowledge  to  penetrate,  but  the 
doubt  in  the  prisoners'  minds  made  their  voices 
falter  and  fall  silent,  till  only  Father  Eugene's 
rolling  baritone  remained. 

He  was  singing  the  ancient  hymn  accurately 
and  with  great  feeling,  but  the  words  were  not 
the  ones  we  knew,  at  least  not  all  of  them.  Sand- 
wiched between  the  phrases  in  praise  of  the  Holy 
Virgin  was  that  day's  news— and  what  news  it  was 
for  us!  The  Allies  had  landed  on  the  mainland  of 
Italy,  Mussolini  had  been  ousted  from  power 
and  placed  under  arrest  in  a  mountain  hide-out, 
and  Marshal  Badoglio  had  formed  a  government 
which  would  negotiate  with  the  Allied  command. 

I  felt  like  dancing  and  cheering  and  embracing 
my  neighbors.  I  even  turned  toward  the  man 
beside  me,  ready  to  pound  his  back,  only  to  find 
it  was  the  guard.  .And  then  it  struck  me  like  a 
blast  of  icy  wind  how  dangerous  the  situation 
was,  especially  for  the  lone  figure  on  the  plat- 
form above  us  singing  so  lustily. 

The  Italians  were  looking  somewhat  puzzled 
by  the  way  the  singing  had  died  down,  but  they 
obviously  had  not  heard  the  momentous  news. 
Where  in  Heaven's  name  had  Father  Eugene 
heard  it,  and  what  devil  had  prompted  him  to 
pass  it  on  to  us  in  this  most  perilous  fashion? 
The  affair  of  the  Churchill  speech  flitted  across 
my  mind  and  I  had  a  moment  of  chilling  doubt, 
but  I  discarded  it.  Not  even  Father  Eugene 
would  play  such  a  trick  on  the  entire  prison.  As 
to  why  he  had  chosen  this  way  to  tell  us,  I  knew 
in  an  instant  by  looking  at  the  faces  of  my  fellow 
prisoners.  Every  one  of  them  had  a  rapt  look  as 
if  he  were  actually  seeing  the  Virgin  Mary  rising 
up  to  Heaven  before  his  eyes. 


76 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


1  don't  know  whether  Eugene  was  entitled  to 
say  Mass,  whether  he  was  actually  ordained  or 
not.  But  standing  in  that  prison  courtyard  with 
the  machine  guns  trained  on  us  and  the  armed 
guards  looking  foolish  and  the  prisoners  looking 
blissful,  I  didn't  care.  It  was  spine-tingling.  It 
was  hinny.    It  was  absolutely  glorious; 

A  month  later  the  Italians  collapsed  and  in 
the  few  hours  before  the  Germans  could  take 
over  the  prison  I  and  a  few  others  managed  to 
escape.  I  lost  touch  with  Father  Eugene  com- 
pletely. 


PHONY     SCARLET     PIMPERNEL 

JUST  after  the  liberation  I  was  sitting  in  the 
office  of  a  British  Major  in  the  intelligence 
in  Athens,  straightening  out  my  affairs.  The 
telephone  rang,  the  Major  listened  for  a  while  in 
strained  silence,  then  shouted,  "Tell  them  to  go 
to  hell,"  and  slammed  down  the  receiver. 

"It's  about  that  blasted  monk  again,"  he  said, 
turning  to  me. 

"What  monk?"  I  inquired. 

"A  certain  Father  Eugene  who's  caused  us  more 
trouble  than  all  the  German  agents  put  to- 
gether." 

"Father  Eugene?"  I  cried.  "Wasn't  he  in  prison 
here  during  the  occupation?" 


"\  cs,  he  was  in  prison,"  said  the  Major.  "Why? 
Did  you  know  him?" 

"II  it's  the  same  man,"  I  said.  "What  has  he 
been  up  to  now?" 

The  .Major  rummaged  among  his  papers, 
found  a  piece  of  folded  pasteboard.  "This,"  he 
said,  and  handed  it  to  me. 

It  looked  like  an  ordinary  identity  card.  When 
I  opened  it,  I  saw  that  it  was  in  fact  an  identity 
card,  bul  a  most  extraordinary  one.  On  one 
side  was  a  passport  photograph  ot  a  man,  obvi- 
ously a  (.reek.  At  the  top  of  the  other  side  were 
the  words  INTELLIGENCE  SERVICE"  in 
beautifully  embossed  capitals,  and  underneath  a 
statement  to  the  effect  that  the  bearer,  Mr.  So 
and  So,  was  a  member  of  the  intelligence  service 
in  good  standing.  There  was  a  signature  scrawled 
at  the  bottom  and  a  seal  which  at  first  sight 
looked  like  the  British  lion  and  unicorn.  There 
was  even  a  special  number  allotted  to  the  bearer. 

"I  didn't  know  you  issued  these  things  to  your 
people,"  I  said. 

"Don't  be  an  ass."  snapped  the  Major.  "Of 
course  we  don't.  Whoever  heard  of  the  intelli- 
gence service  being  called  the  intelligence  serv- 
ice.  Look  at  the  signature." 

The  signature  was  "Eugene  A ."  But  I  had 

never  known  Father  Eugene's  surname.  Then  I 
noticed  that  the  seal  was  wrong.  Instead  of  the 
lion  being  on  the  left  and  the  unicorn  on  the 
right,  they  were  the  other  way  round  and  the 
motto  was  completely  illegible.  No  one  could  . 
say  that  Eugene  had  misappropriated  the  sym- 
bols of  the  British  Empire. 

"Do  you  know  that  there  are  thousands  of 
those  things  floating  about?"  demanded  the  Ma- 
jor. "Do  you  know  that  anyone  caught  with  one 
of  them  a  few  months  ago  might  have  been  shot 
as  a  spy?  Do  you  know  that  every  single  person 
who  had  one  of  those  absurd,  worthless  little 
cards  thinks  he  is  a  hero,  that  they  produce  them 
to  prove  that  they  did  their  bit,  and  that  at  least 
a  dozen  times  a  day  I  get  requests  from  them  for 
jobs  on  our  own  intelligence  set-up?" 

"What  did  they  actually  do  during  the  occupa- 
tion?" I  asked. 

"Nothing." 

"What  do  you  mean,  nothing?  What  was  the 
whole  thing  for?" 

"That's  the  mystery,"  said  the  Major.  "The 
word  was  passed  to  all  of  them  that  they  would 
be  called  upon  to  undertake  an  assignment,  but 
the  call  never  came.  All  your  precious  monk  had 
to  do  was  start  the  thing  and  then  sit  back  and 
watch  it  spread.  Each  man  recruited  someone 
else  and  knew  only  the  man  who  had  approached 


FATHER     EUGENE 


77 


him  and  the  one  he  had  recruited  himself.  The 
identity  cards  were  passed  from  hand  to  hand 
down  the  chain." 

I  started  to  get  a  glimmering  of  what  it  was 
all  about.  These  people  had  wanted  to  do  some- 
thing for  their  country.  Father  Eugene  had  pro- 
vided the  means.  The  simple  danger  of  having 
the  cards  had  made  them  men  who,  in  their 
hearts  at  least,  were  still  resisting  the  enemy. 
What  difference  did  it  make  if  nothing  came  of 
it?  It  seemed  to  me  that  heroism  should  not  be 
measured  entirely  by  its  results,  and  I  began  to 
disagree  with  the  Major  that  the  cards  were 
worthless. 

"Did  Father  Eugene  get  anything  out  of  it?" 
I  asked. 

"Not  a  thing  as  far  as  I  can  make  out— except 
his  comeuppance." 

"Being  put  in  jail,  you  mean?" 

"Getting  himself  shot,  I  mean." 

I  realized  that  I  had  suspected  it  all  along  but 
hadn't  wanted  to  face  it.   "Why?"  I  asked. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  mean,  'Why?' "  the 
Major  exploded.  "The  man  wrought  havoc  in 
intelligence  operations  in  damn  near  the  whole 
Middle  East  Theater.  The  counterespionage 
services  of  three  armies  were  in  an  uproar.  Every- 
thing was  in  such  confusion  that  regular  intelli- 
gence work  became  almost  impossible.  I  shud- 
der to  think  what  those  poor  Ities  went  through 
trying  to  fight  their  way  out  of  the  mess,"  and 
for  the  first  time  the  shadow  of  a  smile  flitted 
across  his  face. 

"Think  of  it,  man,  they  actually  arrested  some 
two  hundred  people  and  could  find  out  abso- 
lutely nothing  because  there  was  nothing  to  find 
out,  and  had  to  release  them  again.  None  of 
these  chaps  had  ever  seen  or  heard  of  Father 
I  Eugene.  They  thought  they  had  been  recruited 
by  one  of  our  people.  Father  Eugene  of  course 
didn't  let  on.  I  have  his  Italian  file  here  and  it 
seems  that  at  all  his  interrogations  he  insisted 
that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  identity 
cards,  that  the  fact  that  they  were  signed  in  his 
name  was  either  coincidence  or  fraud.  Of  course 
the  Ities  didn't  believe  it.  They  had  your  pre- 
cious Father  Eugene  in  jail  for  a  year  before  they 
made  up  their  minds  it  was  all  a  hoax.  They 
only  gave  him  a  life  sentence  to  save  their  face." 

Now  I  knew  why  Father  Eugene  had  never  re- 
vealed his  surname,  never  spoken  of  his  imme- 
diate past,  why,  after  almost  a  year  in  prison,  no 
one  came  to  see  him,  and  why,  in  spite  of  his 
friendliness  and  camaraderie,  he  had  always  re- 
mained such  a  solitary,  lonely  figure.  He  had 
perpetrated  the  most  gigantic  hoax,  but  he  had 


not  endangered  anyone  else.  You  could  call  him 
the  poor  man's  insurrectionist  or  a  phony  Scarlet 
Pimpernel  if  you  liked,  but,  after  all,  he  had  not 
failed.  How  he  must  have  laughed  behind  those 
bushy  whiskers  of  his  to  watch  the  mess  he  had 
stirred  up.  I  don't  know,  I  suppose  no  one  will 
ever  know,  whether  that  is  what  he  set  out  to  do. 
Perhaps  it  was  his  own  peculiar  way  of  doing  his 
duty  as  a  monk  in  times  of  trial.  But  whatever  it 
was  it  took  courage  and  a  little  bit  of  madness— 
or  genius. 

"But  why  was  he  shot?"  I  asked. 

"Well,  when  the  Jerries  took  over  the  prison 
they  found  Father  Eugene's  file.  But  Jerry,  as 
you  ought  to  know,  has  never  had  much  of  a 
sense  of  humor.  He  took  the  whole  thing  in 
deadly  earnest.  Saw  spies  in  hundreds  under 
every  bed  and  came  down  like  a  ton  of  bricks. 
The  first,  and  I  must  admit  only,  man  to  get  it 
in  the  neck  was  your  monk  friend.  They  took 
him  out  and  shot  him  about  a  fortnight  before 
they  got  out  of  this  place." 

An  emotion  other  than  exasperation  had  be- 
gun to  creep  into  the  Major's  voice,  but  he  added 
gruffly,  "By  God,  if  they  hadn't,  I  swear  we  would 
have  had  to  do  it  ourselves." 


Ages  of  Anxiety 


w 


H  A  T  is  a  Golden  Age?  What  echoes  of 
the  Age  of  Pericles,  of  Renaissance  Italy 
and  the  Low  Countries  and  Scandinavia, 
of  Elizabethan  England,  mark  each  as  a 
flood  tide  in  the  vast,  slow  surge  of 
human  intellectual  development?  .  .  .  All 
of  them  were  eras  of  some  physical  se- 
curity and  at  least  some  political  and 
organizational  stability.  But  in  all  of 
them,  too,  stability  and  security  were 
far  from  complete,  and  there  is  the 
flavor  of  a  partnership  of  disorder  and 
hazard  with  vitality  and  creativeness. 
None  of  them,  clearly,  were  especially 
"comfortable"  times  in  which  to  live. 
.  .  .  Surely  our  age  shares  many  char- 
acteristics with  the  earlier  golden  times. 
.  .  .  There  is  the  wide  feeling  of  inse- 
curity, the  deep-lying  anxiety,  the  sense 
of  confusion,  not  unlike  the  earlier 
times  in  its  general  character  even 
though,  to  us  at  least,  its  causes  seem 
far  more  complex,  more  massive,  more 
intractable. 

—Caryl  P.  Haskins,  Carnegie  Institution 
of  Washington    Year  Book,  Dec.    1957. 


By   MARTIN   MAYER 

Drawings  by  G.  Hunter  Jones 


The  Budapest  String  Quartet 


Four   fiddlers   from    Russia,   and   strictly   not 

from  Hungary,  make  up  one  of  the  most 

distinguished — and   certainly  the  most  durahlc 

— organizations  in  American  chamber  music. 

AT  E  L  E  P  H  O  N  E  rang  in  the  studio  con- 
trol room,  cutting  through  the  chromatics 
of  a  late  Mo/an  string  quintet  which  was  play- 
ing at  high  volume  through  the  loudspeaker. 
Sascha  (Alexander)  Schneider  picked  up  the  re- 
ceiver and  said: 

"World's  greatest  siring  quartet.  World's 
greatest    violinist  speaking.    Hallo." 

I  It  listened  intently,  then  shook  his  head,  with 
its  remarkable  spread  ol  black-gray,  wiry  hair. 

"What  do  you  want  to  speak  to  him  lor?  He's 
not  the  world's  greatest  recording  director." 
Then,  thoughtfully  and  considerately,  "Well, 
maybe  he  is." 

Schneider  handed  the  receiver  to  Columbia 
Records'  Howard  Scott,  who  bent  down  behind 
his  desk  and  whispered  into  the  mouthpiece  to 
make  sure  he  would  not  disturb  the  concentra- 


tion of  the  musicians  in  the  control  room.  They 
were  listening  to  the  playback  ol  the  piece  they 
had  just  recorded  in  the  studio.  Sascha  studied 
Scott's  bent-over  form  for  a  moment,  made  a 
huge  grimace  ol  pity,  shrugged  his  shoulders 
and  turned  around  to  share  hi^  feelings  with  his 
partners  in  the  Budapest  String  Quartet. 

The  other  members  of  the  Kvartet  (to  give  it 
the  locally  preferred  German  pronunciation) 
were  not  responsive.  His  brothei  Mischa,  the 
Budapest's  cellist,  was  following  the  playback  on 
the  recording  director's  score,  deciphering  with 
ease  Scott's  penciled  markings  ol  errors  in  per- 
formance. A  tall,  fair,  handsome  man  with  sad 
eyes— the  older  ol  the  Schneider  brothers  and  a 
very  solid  citizen  -Mischa  was  wrinkling  his  fore- 
head at  ibis  and  that,  nodding  forcefully  to  em- 
phasize accented   passages. 

Against  the  rear  wall  ol  the  narrow  room,  first 
violinist  Josef  Roisman  was  huddled  into  him- 
self on  a  folding  chair,  listening  carefully  but 
somewhat  sleepiK.  because  it  was  alter  one 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  and  his  customary  nap 
time  was  approaching.  This  posture  was  un- 
usual lor  Roisman,  who  is  slight,  erect,  mostl) 
bald  and  very  serious,  the  official  leader  ol   the 


THE     BUDAPEST     STRING     QUARTET 


79 


quartet  (they  once  tried  to  change  the  name  to 
Roisman  Quartet;  their  management  wouldn't 
let  them),  but  the  last  of  the  four  men  to  speak 
when  argument  is  afoot. 

Boris  Kroyt,  the  quartet's  round  violist— per- 
haps the  most  meticulous  musician  of  the  four- 
was  leaning  over  Scott's  desk,  thumbing  through 
an  illustrated  brochure  of  the  Brooklyn  Dodgers' 
1956  trip  to  Japan,  which  he  had  picked  up  God 
knows  where.  Every  so  often  he  would  come 
upon  a  scene  or  a  Japanese  personage  familiar 
to  him  from  one  of  the  Budapest's  tours  (the 
quartet  has  played  everywhere,  except  Russia, 
whence  its  members  come),  and  would  point  it 
out  to  Mischa  beside  him  or  to  Roisman  behind 
him.  But  Kroyt  was  listening  to  the  recording, 
too. 

Since  these  were  quintets,  there  was  a  fifth 
musician  listening:  Walter  Trampler,  a  tall, 
young,  quiet  violist,  who  had  played  his  part 
but  had  no  voice  in  approving  the  performance. 
Trampler  leaned  against  the  wall,  his  arms 
crossed,  studying  all  the  members  of  the  quartet 
impartially.  He  may  have  been  thinking  about 
the  performance,  which  was  not  in  his  style. 
(The  Budapests  are  romantic  Slavs,  and 
Trampler  is  a  lyrical  Britisher;  as  Mischa  said 
to  him  when  he  ventured  a  comment,  "I  know 
you  do  not  like  our  way,  and  your  way  is  prob- 
ably right,  but  as  soon  as  we  try  to  play  soft,  we 
lose  all  energy.")  Or  he  may  have  been  speculat- 
ing on  his  future,  because  Milton  Katims— who 
was  the  extra  violist  when  these  same  Budapests 
recorded  the  Mozart  quintets  fifteen  years  ago,  in 
the  days  before  LP— has  gone  on  to  a  career  as 
a  conductor.  Or  he  may  have  been  wondering 
what  it  is  that  has  held  the  Budapests  together, 
with  substantially  the  same  personnel,  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century;  while  Trampler's  own 
excellent  group,  the  New  Music  Quartet,  had 
broken  apart,  in  a  snarl  of  personal  recrimina- 
tions, after  only  three  years. 

Then  the  recorded  "take"  was  over,  and  Scott 
was  off  the  phone.  A  worried,  almost  bald  young 
man  with  a  perfectionist  attitude  toward  work, 
Scott  has  been  in  the  booth  on  all  Budapest 
recordings  of  the  last  seven  or  eight  years.  He 
knew  the  quartet  could  do  better  than  the  per- 
formance they  had  just  heard  over  the  playback 
loudspeakers,  but  he  said  only, 

"Well,  what  do  you  think?" 

"I  think  it  was  beautiful,"  said  Sascha  dog- 
gedly. 

"It  was  better  yesterday,"  said  Kroyt  mildly. 

"Could  we  hear  it  from  yesterday?"  Mischa 
asked  Scott. 


Scott  said,  "Yes,  but  yesterday,  you  remember, 
there  were  those  three  bad  bars." 

"Maybe  we  could  take  the  good  parts  from 
today  and  from  yesterday,"  Roisman  suggested. 

"I  don't  think  so,"  Scott  said,  "but  let's  see." 
He  nodded  to  the  engineers,  who  were  already 
preparing  the  previous  day's  tape  on  the  ma- 
chines to  play  back  what  the  musicians  wanted 
to  hear.  Scott  said,  "Insert  two,  take  nine." 

"How  do  you  remember?"  said  Boris  Kroyt. 

"I  don't  remember  anything,"  said  Scott, 
pointing  to  a  piece  of  paper  on  his  desk.  "I 
have  it  all  written  down." 

The  same  rondo,  in  the  same  performance, 
flooded  from  the  loudspeaker,  and  Mischa 
abandoned  his  score  and  began  to  tell  Trampler 
a  story  which  had  nothing  to  do  with  music. 

"Stop  this,  now!"  said  Sascha.  "We  are  serious 
musicians,  no?  Chamber  music  players.  We 
don't  tell  jokes." 

The  vocal  silence  in  the  booth  lasted  for  a 
minute  after  the  final  flourish  of  the  music,  and 
then  Scott  made  a  quiet  comment.  "The  end 
was  better  yesterday,"  he  said,  "but  there's  no 
place  I  can  make  the  splice.  I  think  you'll  want 
to  try  it  again." 

"Why?"  Sascha  demanded,  and  swelled  to  his 
feet,  pregnant  with  rhetoric.  "Nobody  listens 
to  music  any  more,"  he  announced.  "They  all 
want  to  hear,  /  hit  the  wrong  note,  lie  (Kroyt) 
didn't  come  in,  you  (Roisman)  had  a  wheestle. 
People  pay  good  money  to  come  and  hear  that. 
We  should  just  play,  the  way  we  would  play  a 
concert.  We  get  paid  the  same.  You  (Scott),  you 
are  an  executive,  you  get  nothing  for  working 
late.  They  (the  two  recording  engineers)  have 
a  union,  they  get  paid  the  same.  We  get  a  real 
performance,  with  humanity  in  it.  And  we  sell 
more  records." 

This  was  not  a  new  argument,  and  Mischa 
answered  it  somewhat  wearily.  "We  are  not 
going  to  let  that  go  through,"  he  said,  "when 
we  are  normal.  Now  we  say,  'Let  anything  go 
through.'  But  we  would  just  have  to  do  it  again 
tomorrow." 

Roisman  was  looking  at  Scott's  score.  "We 
don't  have  to  do  it  all,"  he  said. 

Scott  said,  "No.  Take  it  from  two  before  F, 
and  I  can  make  the  splice." 

"All   right,"  said  Sascha.    "Two   before   F." 

Trampler  opened  the  door,  but  before  the 
musicians  could  begin  their  tired  march  back 
into  the  studio  proper,  the  telephone  rang 
again.  Scott  picked  it  up  himself  this  time  and 
said,  amiably: 

"Mr.  Schneider's  office." 


80 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


TWO     FROM     ODESSA 

AMONG  them,  the  lour  members  of  the 
Budapest  Quartet  can  offer  more  than  125 
year-,  of  professional  experience  in  playing 
chamber  music,  and  more  than  90  years  under 
the  label:  Budapest.  The  label  itself  is  not 
theirs:  and,  indeed,  they  have  no  love  for  it, 
though  the)  pla\  willingly  enough  at  Hun- 
garian Relief  concerts  and  take  no  offense  at 
the  general  opinion  that  they  must  be  Hungar- 
ians. Originally,  at  its  foundation  in  1910,  the 
Kvartet  was  Hungarian  by  a  three-to-one  ma- 
jority (the  cellist  was  a  Dutchman).  Roisman 
was  the  first  Russian  to  enter,  in  1927;  he  was 
followed  l>\  Mischa  in  1930,  Sascha  in  1932, 
and  Kroyt  in  1936.  The  four  current  members 
of  the  quartet  can  handle  exactly  one  phrase 
of  Hungarian:  "Turn  the  Page,"  which  is  writ- 
ten on  all  the  scores  they  inherited  from  the 
original  Budapests. 

All  four  members  of  the  quartet  play  with 
more  than  enough  skill  to  have  made  careers 
for  themselves  as  soloists,  and  all  except  Mischa 
have  tasted  the  pains  and  pleasures  of  the 
virtuoso  life.  Roisman  was  a  child  prodigy  who 
played  the  violin  from  the  age  of  six. 

"I  have  a  picture  of  myself,"  he  says.  "I  was 
nine  years  old,  already  f  have  a  medal.  But 
everybody   was  a   child   prodigy." 

His  father— a  businessman  who  did  not  ap- 
prove of  violin-playing— died  before  the  boy 
was  ten,  and  almost  automatically  young  Rois- 
man became  the  ward  of  a  charitable  lady  in 
his  native  Odessa,  the  wife  of  a  tea  importer, 
who  sent  no  fewer  than  thirty-three  talented 
Odessan  children  to  the  musical  centers  of 
Europe  to  be  educated  at  her  expense.  When 
the  Roisman  family  became  available  she  went 
to  Berlin,  found  a  teacher  for  young  Josef  and 
his  thirteen-year-old  sister,  rented  an  apart- 
ment  for   the   children   and    their   mother,   and 


went    .tw.i\    again    aftei     arranging    a    monthly 
allowance   Eor  her  newh -adopted   brood. 

I  lie  lust  world  war  cut  off  the  Roisnians 
from  then  patroness  and  they  returned  to 
Odessa,  where  lose!  studied  at  the  conserva- 
tory, and  won  competitions  to  become  concert- 
in.  ister  of  the  local  orchestra  and  opera  orchestra. 
Came  the  revolution  and  musicians  were,  as 
Roisman  puts  it,  "requisitioned.  They  sent  us 
to  factories  to  play— us,  singers,  a  pianist,  a 
group.  To  play  for  the  workers  and  the  soldiers 
in  the  army." 

In  I92.'i,  while  on  one  of  these  conducted 
tours,  Roisman  found  himself  near  the  Polish 
border;  a  few  hours  later  he  was  out  of  Russia 
for  good.  He  served  in  the  orchestra  of  the 
Prague  Opera  for  two  years  and  free-lanced 
as  violinist  and  teacher  for  another  two,  then 
auditioned  for  and  won  the  post  of  second 
violinist  with  the  Budapest.  (The  former 
violinist  had  quit;  he  is  now  in  the  string  section 
of  the  New  York  Philharmonic.) 

Kroyt,  a  few  years  older  than  Roisman,  also 
came  from  Odessa  and  studied  in  Berlin  under 
the  patronage  of  the  tea  importer's  wife.  At 
the  age  of  fourteen,  he  was  already  playing  con- 
certos with  German  orchestras  and  when  the 
war  came,  he  was  well  enough  known  to  sup- 
port himseli  in  Germany.  In  1918  he  organized 
the  Kroyt  Quartet,  which  survived,  with  one 
complete  change  of  all  the  personnel  except 
Kroyt,  until  1933,  when  it  went  bust  like  every- 
thing else. 

Throughout  this  period  Kroyt  was  a  violinist 
for  a  living,  but  he  was  a  violist  at  heart. 
Of  all  his  early  triumphs,  the  one  he  remem- 
bers most  vividly  is  a  concert  conducted  by 
Richard  Strauss  at  which  he  played  the  Brahms 
Violin  Concerto  in  the  first  half  and  Berlioz' 
"Harold  in  Italy,"  a  viola  concerto,  in  the 
second  half.  Roisman— who  had  known  Kroyt 
as  a  boy  in  Odessa  and  Berlin  and  had  never 
entirely  lost  track  of  him— remembered  Kroyt's 
affection  for  the  big  fiddle  when  the  Budapest 
found  itself  short  a  violist  in  1936,  and  wrote 
Kroyt  in  South  America,  where  he  was  touring 
as  second  violinist  of  the  Guarnerius  Quartet. 
Kroyt  had  a  number  of  reasons  for  accepting 
Roisman's  offer  (among  them,  his  desire  to  get 
out  of  Hitler's  Germany,  which  was  still  home 
base  to  the  Guarnerius),  but  the  chance  to  play 
viola  for  a  living  was  one  of  the  most  important 
of  them. 

Alone  among  the  members  of  the  quartet, 
Kroyt  looks  forward  to  retirement,  when  he 
hopes    to    resume    the    composition    of    music, 


u 


m 


1*k*"; 


■*'"'   .tt>. 


■■■■■m 


■ 


'! 


v"        ' 


Mont  Orgueil  Castle  in  Jersey,  one  of  the  jour  Channel  Islands  (Jersey,  Guernsey,  Alderney  and  Sark). 


How  to  fall  in  love  with  Britain  — after  dark 


'  WILL  FIND  this  castled  village 
the  tiny  British  island  of  Jersey, 
are  no  London  night  cluhs  here, 
ir  shows.  No  jazz.  Just  the  sleepy 
f  harbor  lights,  the  slap  of  waves 
t  creak  of  sailing  boats, 
'ore  a  little.  It  won't  take  you 
discover  the  evening  rewards  of 
nquil  little  town.  All  is  so  still, 


your  footsteps  make  you  jump.  History 
stalks  the  castle  ramparts.  A  few  people 
still  talk  Norman  French.  And  it's  odd 
to  reflect  that  this  particular  island  once 
gave  its  name  to  the  state  of  New  Jersey. 
You  wind  up  at  the  inn,  of  course. 
Here,  you  can  try  your  skill  at  darts. 
Here,  the  men  are  robust  and  so  is  the 
beer.  You  shake  firm  hands  and  trade  a 


tale  or  two.  And  the  fish  get  bigger  as 
you  talk.  This  is  the  storied  Britain  — 
beyond  the  lights  of  Piccadilly. 

But  even  in  London,  where  nights  are 
so  brilliant,  you  find  some  quiet  surprises. 
One  place  still  serves  an  Elizabethan 
dinner.  Peacock,  syllabub  and  mead. 
See  your  travel  agent.  He  can  book  you 
from  New  York  anclback  for  under  $400. 


: 


For  lice  illustrated  literature,  see  your  travel  agent  or  write  Box  17.'/,  British  Travel  Association. 
ii'  York-336  Madison  A  ve.;  In  Los  Angeles-606  South  Hill  St.;  In  Cflicago-39  South  La  Salle  St.;  In  Canada-90  Adelaide  Street  West,  Toronto 


Fabulous  drinks 

made  with 

Joint  Jameson 

IRISH 
COFFEE 


People  who  have  discovered  the  delight  of 
Irish  Coffee  often  ask  whether  that  is  the 
only  way  to  enjoy  John  Jameson. 

By  no  means!  John  Jameson  makes  a 
marvelous  Manhattan,  a  delightful  Old 
Fashioned,  and  a  /estful  tall  drink  with 
soda  or  water.  Perhaps  most  fabulous  of 
all  and  becoming  quite  a  conversation 
piece  is  the  very  sprightly  drink  called  the 
"Leprechaun." 

leprechaun  RECIPE:  Over  ice  cubes  in  an 
old-fashioned  glass,  pour  one  jigger  of 
John  Jameson.  Fill  with  tonic  water.  Add 
lemon  peel;  lemon  juice  if  desired. 

Both  the  Leprechaun  and  Irish  Coffee  owe 
their  magic  to  what  scientists  call  syner- 
gistic action,  which  means  that  the  coop- 
erative action  of  John  Jameson  and  the 
other  ingredients  is  infinitely  more  delight- 
ful than  any  of  them  taken  independently. 

Probably  one  reason  for  this  synergistic 
action  is  that  John  Jameson  is  all  pot  still 
whiskey — every  drop  matured  7  years  in 
oak  casks.  And  that  kind  of  pot  still  whis- 
key is  mighty  hard  to  find  these  days. 

If  you  have  John  Jameson  on  hand,  try 
a  Leprechaun  without  delay.  If  not,  rush 
out  and  buy  a  bottle. 


JOHN 
JAMESON 


BLENDED    IRISH   WHISKEY   •   86    PROOF 

Imported  by 
W.  A.  TAYLOR  &  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y. 

Sole  Distributors  for  the  V.  S.  A. 


"oivfo 

•woke 

'KlSH 


°racaoffeeTarn,eds'en1med7n 

h>H  to  with-  K    nd  '  to  2  te^  Jameson 

coffee  Z,""  A  inch  oftoptTnS  °fs^r 

°"  top   n 'PP  d  creii^  so  thff  °  hnm  »ith 
drmkinJt,A      Irisb  Coffee    "S  f rcam-  The 


act'on  of  coS-f  W*y  ^  enjoy  thP 
Co^ee  as  Vo.,        James°'i  ;n-sh  °"  's  to  add 


J. 


THE     BUDAPEST     STRING     QUARTET 


81 


which  he  stopped  more  than  forty  years  ago. 
"It's  an  interesting  fact,"  he  says,  the  composing 
gleam  in  his  eye,  "but  most  of  the  great  com- 
posers were  viola  players.  Mozart  and  Beethoven 
played  the  viola  in  their  own  quartets.  Even 
today.  Hindemith  was  a  solo  violist.  Milhaud 
for  years  was  first  violist  in  an  opera  or- 
chestra. .  .  ." 

TWO     FROM     VILNA 

THE  Schneider  brothers,  younger  than 
Roisman  and  Kroyt,  come  from  the  oppo- 
site end  of  Russia,  from  Vilna.  Their  father 
was  an  amateur  flutist,  and  when  Mischa  was 
eight  and  Sascha  five  he  decided  they  were  to 
be  a  cellist  and  a  violinist,  respectively.  There 
is  a  third  brother,  too,  also  destined  for  a 
musical  career,  but,  Sascha  says,  "On  him  it 
didn't  take.  He's  not  a  meskugineh.  He  watches 
the  World  Series,  he  knows  the  averages;  he's 
the  lucky  one." 

The  Schneider  family  too  was  caught  up  in 
the  first  war,  and  the  boys  started  playing  in 
the  cafes  of  Vilna  in  their  early  teens.  Sascha 
recalls  intimate  places  where  one  backed  into 
private  rooms  and  alcoves,  through  brocaded 
curtains,  fiddling  erotically;  Mischa  recalls 
something  less  dramatic  but  more  degrading: 
coffee  houses  which  rewarded  musicians  by 
giving  them  a  cup  of  cafe  au  lait  and  the  oppor- 
tunity to  pass  a  hat  around  among  the  patrons. 

When  the  war  was  over  the  brothers  resumed 
their  middle-class  standing  and  went  off  to 
study,  Mischa  in  Leipzig  and  then  Paris,  Sascha 
in  Vienna.  They  met  again  in  Frankfort,  where 
Mischa  had  become  the  first  cellist  and  Sascha 
the  concertmaster  of  the  local  orchestra.  ("When 
I  wasn't  being  thrown  out,"  Sascha  says,  "be- 
cause I  wouldn't  come  to  rehearsal.")  Both 
moved  on  to  quartet  playing,  Mischa  with  -the 
Prisca  of  Cologne,  Sascha  with  a  group  he  had 
organized  himself  in  Hamburg.  Mischa  entered 
the  Budapest  by  invitation  in  1930,  and  Sascha 
two  years  later,  after  Roisman  had  stepped  up 
to  his  present  eminence. 

After  twelve  years  with  the  quartet,  Sascha 
left;  after  another  twelve  years,  he  came  back 
again— in  1956.  Meanwhile,  he  had  made  many 
solo  appearances,  including  an  extended  tour 
of  the  university  circuit,  playing  Bach's  incom- 
parably difficult  Sonatas  and  Partitas  for  unac- 
companied violin.  As  an  impresario,  he  had 
helped  to  organize  the  various  Casals  festivals 
in  Perpignan,  Prades,  and  Puerto  Rico;  he  had 
promoted  the  summer  concerts  in  Washington 


Square,  New  York  City,  and  invented  a  Christ- 
mas Eve  midnight  concert  at  Carnegie  Hall.  And 
as  a  conductor  he  substituted  for  Casals  him- 
self in  Puerto  Rico  last  spring. 

"I  like  to  do  a  thousand  things,"  Sascha  says. 
So,  says  one  of  his  friends,  being  Sascha,  he  does 
them  all. 

"Living  in  a  quartet  is  much  more  diffi- 
cult than  any  marriage,"  says  Sascha,  who  should 
know,  having  been  involved  in  several  quartets 
and  several  marriages.  "In  a  marriage,  at  least 
you  can  have  fights."  The  emotional  relations 
inside  a  string  quartet  are  intense  and  highly 
complicated,  and  it  is  not  really  true  to  say  that 
quartets  break  up;  they  explode. 

What  has  held  the  Budapests  together  in  a 
tight  unit  is  not  easy  to  explain,  or  even  to 
understand— the  members  themselves  can  only 
guess  at  it.  In  part,  the  secret  of  the  Budapests' 
longevity  as  a  unit  must  trace  to  the  pairings 
which  form  naturally  within  the  group— the 
two  brothers  and  the  two  boys  from  Odessa 
who  shared  a  teacher  in  Berlin;  and,  cutting 
across  these  lines  of  propinquity,  the  tempera- 
mental alliance  of  the  conservative  Roisman 
and  Mischa,  the  flamboyant  Kroyt  and  Sascha. 
But  there  have  been  other  quartets  which 
included  pairs  of  brothers  and  men  who  have 
shared  teachers,  and  no  other  quartet  has  ever 
held  together  so  long  as  the  Budapests. 

Among  the  reasons  is,  undoubtedly,  the  fact 
that  they  came  together  by  an  almost  purely 
musical  choice.  Many  quartets  are  founded  in 
the  heat  of  close  friendship,  and  easily  disinte- 
grate when  ardor  cools;  others  are  founded  on 
a  basis  of  common  extramusical  interests  (includ- 
ing, on  occasion,  the  shared  ministrations  of  the 
same    psychiatrist),    and    collapse    when    these 


Sascha 


82 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


interests  change.  But  the  four  Budapests  are 
men  of  very  different  temperaments,  who  spend 
little  time  with  each  other  apart  from  rehearsals 
and  performances,  and  share  few  friends,  tastes, 
or  interests. 

"When  we're  not  playing  a  concert,"  Sascha 
says,  "we're  the  most  different  quartet  in  the 
world.  B\  avoiding  each  other,  that's  how  we 
stay   together." 

One  shared  interest— contract  bridge— was  for 
some  years  a  major  cause  of  disruption.  They 
played  the  game  constantly,  during  concert  inter- 
missions and  long  mornings  when  their  wives 
thought  the)  were  rehearsing.  Once,  bridge 
caused  a  serious  delay  in  a  concert.  Mischa  had 
gone  down  four  in  a  six-club  contract  played 
at  intermission,  ;tn<l  knew  he  could  have  made 
it  somehow.  All  through  the  first  movement  of 
the  Schubert  (.Major  he  played  and  replayed 
the  hand  in  his  head,  until  finally  lie  knew  what 
he  had  done  wrong.  When  the  first  movement 
ended,  to  the  amazement  of  his  fellow  music  ians 
and  the  audience,  he  picked  up  his  cello,  bowed, 
and  went  off  stage.  After  this  notable  event, 
the  quartet  played  no  more  bridge  during  inter- 
missions; and  after  bridge  had  caused  a  serious 
estrangement— a  two-week  interval  in  the  long 
trip  to  the  Dutch  East  Indies,  during  which 
the  members  of  the  quartet  did  not  speak  to 
each  other  because  of  a  fight  at  the  card  table— 
the  Budapests  gave  up  bridge  altogether.  They 
still  play  once  in  a  while,  Mischa  especially, 
but  never  with  each  other. 

Each  of  the  four  men  has  made  his  own 
individual  adjustment  to  the  problems  of  the 
European  settled  in  America.  Sascha— who  en- 
joys holding  forth  at  parties— has  become  a 
prominent  member  of  New  York's  artistic  and 


Mischa 


intellectual  community.  The  other  three  make 
their  homes  in  Washington,  D.  C.  Mischa  at- 
tempts to  live  a  middle-class  suburban  life, 
spending  as  much  time  as  possible  with  his 
children,  traveluig  by  car,  and  catching  an 
occasional  ball  game.  Kroyt,  whose  one  daughter 
is  now  grown  and  married,  is  a  gadgeteer,  with 
a  garage  and  a  cellar  stuffed  with  electric  razors 
and  drills  and  kitchen  appliances  that  he  has 
taken  apart  and  put  together  again.  He  is  a  car 
fancier  whose  opinions  were  solicited  by  the 
Ford  Motor  Company  when  they  were  planning 
to  revive  the  Lincoln  Continental.  (Once  a 
photographer  with  three  very  similar  cameras 
snapped  around  his  neck  was  taking  pictures 
of  the  Budapests  at  rehearsal,  and  they  were 
trying  to  find  out  from  him  why  he  needed 
three  35-mm.  cameras  for  a  single  job.  Kroyt 
finally  supplied  the  satisfactory  explanation: 
"Because  he  is  American.")  Roisman,  who  is 
childless,  has  remained  perhaps  the  most  Euro- 
pean of  the  four.  Essentially  pedagogical  in 
temperament,  he  teaches  every  summer  at  Mills 
College  on  the  West  Coast. 

The  Budapests  fight  out  with  Slavic  vigor 
their  apparently  eternal  musical  disagreements. 
"Sitting  in  on  a  Budapest  rehearsal,"  says 
Goddard  Lieberson,  now  president  of  Columbia 
Records  but  once  the  recording  director  at  Buda- 
pest sessions,  "is  like  visiting  Tolstoy's  dascha." 
But  the  members  of  the  quartet  all  believe 
that  the  best  result  of  such  a  fight  is  the  mini- 
mum possible  compromise  by  everyone  involved 
in  it;  as  Roisman  says,  "We  respect  the  indi- 
vidual." 

The  Budapest  has  no  "leader,"  in  the  accepted 
sense,  though  Roisman  performs  the  necessary 
starting  function  on  the  platform,  and  Mischa 
handles  business  matters  for  the  group.  All 
decisions  are  made  by  majority  vote  (three  out 
of  four  in  a  quartet,  of  course).  And  even  the 
vote  is  not  enough  to  give  the  majority  a  right 
of  coercion  over  the  holdout.  As  Roisman  puts 
it,  "If  someone  says,  'This  time  is  very  incon- 
venient,' we  do  it  some  other  time.  It  is  the 
same  with  a  new  score,  we  play  it  through  and 
talk  it  over;   everybody  has  to  like  it  a  little." 

Sometimes  the  majority  of  three  will  adjust 
to  the  minority  of  one  despite  an  obvious  incon- 
venience: thus  the  quartet  has  played  through 
the  summer  at  Mills  College,  because  Roisman 
teaches  there,  and  participated  in  the  Casals 
Festival  in  Puerto  Rico— at  less  than  its  usual 
fees— because  Sascha  was  so  intimately  involved 
with  the  plans. 


THE     BUDAPEST     STRING     QUARTET 


8! 


"We  are  all  of  us,"  Roisman  says,  "very  great 
idealists,  and  this  is  what  has  kept  vis  together. 
You  know,  times  were  not  always  so  good." 
Beneath  the  occasionally  spectacular  displays  of 
temperament  at  rehearsals  and  recording  ses- 
sions (never,  of  course,  at  concerts,  where  the 
dead  pan  is  maintained  even  at  the  most  trying 
moments),  all  the  Budapests  are  basically  gentle, 
kindly  men.  Equally  important,  as  Lieberson 
points  out,  "They  really  are  funny— and,  what's 
rare,  they  know  they're  funny.  They  love  to  make 
jokes." 

Musically,  the  Budapests  believe  strongly  that 
a  string  quartet  is  not  a  single  smooth  instru- 
ment but  four  independent  voices,  each  asserting 
itself  in  its  own  way.  "If  someone  comes  back 
after  a  performance,"  Sascha  says,  "and  tells  me, 
'Tonight,  you  and  Roisman  sound  like  one  fiddle, 
everything  was  so  smooth,'  I  know  it  was  a  lousy 
concert." 

This  conception  of  the  individual  as  more 
important  than  the  group  has  given  the  Buda- 
pests their  extraordinary  grasp  of  the  master- 
pieces of  the  literature;  for  almost  all  the  best 
string  quartets,  from  the  later  Haydn  to  Elliott 
Carter,  were  planned  by  their  composers  as  ex- 
pressions of  four  separate  voices.  Consequently, 
the  Budapests  have  less  tonal  elegance  than  some 
other  quartets;  but  they  regard  surface  polish  as 
a  lesser  goal,  anyway.  The  aim  of  their  rehears- 
ing is  to  routinize  a  performance,  the  poetry  as 
well  as  the  notes  themselves.  All  performances 
on  stringed  instruments  are  subject  to  inter- 
ference from  the  weather— because  the  fiddle  is 
at  its  balkiest  when  humidity  is  high— but  other- 
wise the  Budapests  can  be  counted  on  to  give 
ithe  same  performance  all  the  time,  whatever  the 
condition  of  their  individual  psyches  and 
stomachs.  This  ability  to  routinize  is  what  musi- 
cians mean  when  they  speak  of  "professional- 
ism," and  it  is  the  tribute  everyone  pays  the 
Budapests. 

Sascha  brushes  it  off:  "At  our  age,"  he  says, 
"the  music  plays  itself.  If  you  have  the  feeling 
of  character  and  tempo  in  a  piece,  that's  genius 
Those  aren't  my  words;  Mozart's  father  said  it." 

taste:    city   by   city 

THE    Budapests  first  came  to  the  United 
States  in  1930,  as  part  of  a  round-the-world 
lour  which  started  in  the  Dutch  East  Indies.   It 
Ivas  Mischa's  debut  with   the  troupe,  and  from 
■is  first  concert  he  wrote  on  the  front  page  of 
||  ach  score  each  of  the  places  where  he  played  it. 
You  can't  read  the  score  any  more,"  Sascha  says, 


"it's  so  scribbled  over."  Mischa  himself  hopes 
some  day  to  write  a  book,  which  he  will  call 
Opus  59,  Number  1.  "It  begins,"  he  says, 
"  'Batavia,  Java,  Dutch  East  Indies.' "  (The 
quartet  which  is  to  give  the  book  its  name  is 
probably  the  most  popular  in  the  Beethoven 
canon;  it  is  also  the  only  one  which  opens  with 
the  tune  in  the  cello.) 

The  Kvartet  was  well  received  everywhere  in 
the  United  States— to  the  surprise  and  pleasure 
of  the  members.  They  were  also  pleased  at  the 
number  of  American  cities  which  had  endowed 
chamber  music  seasons,  guaranteeing  a  quartet 
the  five  evenings  of  work  necessary  to  complete 
a  Beethoven  cycle.  To  one  of  these  cities,  Buffalo, 
the  Budapests  have  returned  every  year  for  the 
last  twenty-seven,  but  what  intrigues  them  most 
is  the  fact  that  the  Beethoven  concerts  in  Buf- 
falo must  continue  even  after  they  and  their 
audiences  are  gone. 

"It  is  endowed  forever,  in  a  will,"  Mischa  says 
wonderingly.  "Every  year,  as  long  as  the  world 
lasts,  there  must  be  a  Beethoven  cycle  in  Buf- 
falo." 

By  the  terms  of  another  endowment— to  the 
Library  of  Congress  in  Washington— the  Buda- 
pests are  not  allowed  to  play  their  own  instru- 
ments in  that  building.  Among  the  Library's 
possessions  is  a  quartet  of  instruments  by  An- 
tonius  Stradivarius,  and  among  the  purposes  of 
its  annual  concert  series  is  a  workout  for  the 
fiddles,  which  would  otherwise  deteriorate. 

"The  first  years,"  Kroyt  recalls,  "when  we 
came  to  the  library,  we  played  two  or  three  con- 
certs in  the  series.  Other  quartets  played  the 
instruments  in  the  other  concerts.  In  1937,  we 
complained,  the  instruments  were  always  out  of 
joint,  and  they  said,  'Why  don't  you  join  up 
forever?  Why  don't  you  play  all  twenty  concerts 
for  us,  every  year?'  " 

In  1933,  with  the  advent  of  Hitler,  the  Buda- 
pests had  shifted  their  home  base  to  Paris;  in 
1938,  with  twenty  concerts  a  year  guaranteed  at 
the  Library  of  Congress— plus  other  guarantees 
from  Buffalo,  Cleveland,  and  Pittsburgh— they 
immigrated  to  America.  At  first  they  made  their 
headquarters  in  New  York,  because  that  was 
where  immigrants  and  musicians  stayed,  but  in 
1942  Roisman  tired  of  the  endless  seasonal  com- 
muting to  Washington  and  took  an  apartment 
in  the  capital;  and  the  others,  except  for  Sascha, 
soon  followed. 

Unlike  other  musical  groups,  the  Budapests 
play  only  classics  in  New  York,  and  introduce 
new  works  in  other  cities  where  (not  to  put  too 
fine  a  point  on  the  matter)  endowments  protect 


84 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


them  against  losses  from  the  smaller  audiences 
drawn  by  contemporary  scores.  The  quartet  is 
thus  regarded  in  New  York  as  a  somewhat  stodgy 
bunch,  because  they  have  played  so  few  new 
pieces  where  everybody  else  plays  the  newest 
works  in  his  repertory;  but  the  Budapests  have 
probably  introduced  more  modern  scores  than 
any  other  quartet  in  the  world  ("except,"  Sascha 
says  carefully,  "the  Kolisch"). 

They  learn  several  new  works  every  year  for 
the  Library  series,  and  for  a  series  sponsored  by 
the  Froram  Foundation  in  Chicago,  and  when 
they  played  their  summer  season  at  Mills  College 
they  honored  Darius  Milhaud,  a  colleague  of 
Roisman's  on  the  faculty,  by  playing  the  com- 
plete cycle  of  his  seventeen  quartets.  Three  or 
four  times  a  year,  they  devote  a  complete  day  to 
sight-reading  through  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  new 
scores  which  have  been  sent  to  them  in  care  of 
the  Library.  Interminable  rehearsing  precedes 
the  actual  performance.  "Once,"  Sascha  recalls, 
"we  rehearsed  a  Bartok  quartet  for  five  months, 
it  was  crazy.  I  say,  'If  it's  late  Beethoven  it  will 
still  be  around  in  a  hundred  years.'  " 

During  an  ordinary  year,  the  Budapests  will 
play  100  to  110  concerts,  three-quarters  of  them 
in  the  United  States,  the  rest  on  tour  in  South 
America,  Europe,  Australia,  or  Japan.  They  hate 
train  rides,  and  invariably  travel  by  plane  or— 
if  the  trip  is  a  short  one— by  rented  station  wagon 
(everybody  drives  except  Roisman).  In  Wash- 
ington, they  usually  rehearse  twice  a  week  in  the 
Library;  on  tour,  they  rehearse  the  afternoon 
before  a  concert,  in  a  hotel  ballroom  or  con- 
ference room. 


"It's  no  use  to  go  into  an  empty  hall  and  try 
it  out,"  Kroyt  says.  "You  never  know  how  it  will 
sound  when  the  hall  is  full.  This  way,  we  start, 
if  it  sounds  bad  or  you  can't  hear  or  it  sounds 
rough,  you  make  adjustments— it's  a  matter  of 
seconds."  Mischa  offers  local  concert  managers 
a  choice  of  six  to  eight  different  programs. 

"But  with  us,"  Sascha  says,  "you  can  choose 
anything  you  want.  We  know  it." 

On  tour  the  Budapests  will  usually,  but  not 
always,  eat  dinner  together  at  a  local  Chinese 
restaurant  (Chinese  food  is  one  of  the  few  shared 
enthusiasms).  "Of  course,"  Kroyt  says,  "every- 
one has  a  different  schedule.  Roisman  is  very 
strict  with  his  time,  he  must  rest  every  afternoon. 
He  wakes  up,  and  eats  at  five  or  six  o'clock 
before  a  concert.  I  always  eat  after  a  concert." 
At  breakfast,  the  four  men  usually  remain  apart, 
ea<  h  starting  the  day  behind  his  own  newspaper 
at  his  own  table  in  the  hotel  dining-room,  to  the 
vast  amusement  of  any  other  musicians  who  hap- 
pen to  be  staying  at  the  hotel. 

In  the  summer,  the  Budapests  quit,  usually 
going  as  far  apart  as  they  can  comfortably  man- 
age. If  one  runs  into  another  in  foreign  parts 
they  will  shake, hands  in  a  civil  manner,  ask  alter 
the  family,  and  then  turn  opposite  directions  and 
leave.  All  of  them  regard  the  summer  away  as 
necessary  to  the  maintenance  of  the  quartet  as  a 
unit,  and  to  the  musical  quality  of  the  per- 
formances that  will  follow  reunion  in  the  fall. 

"It's  refreshing,"  Mischa  says.  "After  two, 
three  months,  you  begin  to  want  to  see  each  other 
again.  You  feel  the  desire,"  Mischa  concludes, 
"to  come  together,  and  to  make  again  music." 


THOMAS  WHITBREAD 

FOR   A   TWENTY-FIFTH   BIRTHDAY 

at  this  time  of  poise,  this  permanence  of  maturing, 
When  the  face  has  finally  settled  its  appearance 

And  the  body  wears  a  shape  that  seems  enduring 

And  each  ceiling  gives  the  head  a  certain  clearance, 

At  this  stoppage  of  growth,  this  beginning  of  decay, 

When,  having  no  place  to  go  without  interference, 
Cells  can  be  cannibals  to  get  their  way, 

At  this  adult  state,  between  birth  and  desiccation, 
In  hopes  of  a  meaningful  mind,  quietly  pray 
For  your  ignorant  body  a  calm  continuation. 


I   I  I    C     :  D     E  .;  F  I  G  f  H  j  l-J  j  K-L  5    M     |  HO  !    P    io-Hf     S    !   I  |U-VH»Hj 


^ 


CBS  RADIO  PRESIDENT 

ARTHUR  HULL  HAYES 

discusses  radio  with  you 
in  the 

World  Book 

encyclopedia 

Radio  in  our  lives  is  a  vital  force  that 
guides  our  daily  activities. 

Radio  in  the  studio  is  a  world  apart  — of  storied 
heartbreak  and  harmony  and  a  breath-suspending 
sign,  "On  the  air." 

"Radio"— in  World  Book  is  an  enlightening 
discussion  with  a  man  who  knows  the  medium 
from  the  crystal-tickling  cat's  whisker  to 
complete  studio  production. 

Mr.  Hayes  is  not  only  familiar  with  all  the  aspects 
and  intricacies  of  his  subject,  but  he  is  gifted 
with  the  ability  to  describe  it  completely,  clearly, 
and  concisely.  You'll  find  his  article 
z'evealing  and  refreshing. 

All  contributors  to  World  Book  are  leading 
authorities  in  their  fields.  That's  why  World  Book 
Encyclopedia  is  always  accurate,  informative, 
up  to  date.  No  wonder  World  Book  continues  to 
increase  its  leadership  in  sales  and  popularity ! 

FREE!  Booklet,  "Space  Travel  and  Guided  Missile,"  re- 
printed from  World  Book  Encyclopedia. 

World  Book,  Dept.,1333,  Box  3565,  Chicago  54,  Illinois 

As  a  sample  of  the  way  all  major  subjects  are  treated  in  World 
Book,  please  send  me  your  booklet  containing  reprints  of  the 
Space  Travel  and  Guided  Missile  articles. 

(Mr.)  (Mrs.) _ 

Address County 

City „ _ „ Zone State 


Field  Enterprises  Educational  Corporation 
Merchandise  Mart  Plaza,  Chicago  54,  Illinois 


Children's  Ages , 

In  Canada,  write  World  Book-Childcraft  of  Canada,  Ltd. 
85  Bloor  St.,  E.,  Toronto  5,  Ontario 


After 


syrrm30Q£.'Oz& 


SERENADE     TO     THE 
LONG-HAIRED     DEE-JAY 

IT  IS  becoming  increasingly  diffi- 
cult to  get  away  from  good  music 
on  the  radio.  Every  time  I  turn  to 
the  entertainment  section  of  the  Sun- 
day paper  there  seems  to  be  a  new 
FM  station  in  the  New  York  area 
that  plays  little  but  Buxtehude  and 
Bartok,  and  of  course  the  same  phe- 
nomenon has  been  spreading  across 
the  country  along  with  hi-fi  and 
other  manifestations  of  our  noisy 
limes.  Even  the  old  New  York  stand- 
bys,  those  two  pillars  of  classical- 
music  programing,  stations  WQXR 
and  WNYC,  have  added  new  com- 
mentators during  the  past  year;  and 
David  Randolph,  who  has  been  at 
this  for  thirteen  years,  can  now  be 
heard  at  it  four  times  a  week  on 
WNYC— two  original  programs,  two 
rebroadcasts  of  earlier  ones— and 
once  a  week  nationally  on  the  sta- 
tions of  the  National  Association  of 
Educational  Broadcasters. 

To  be  sure,  New  York  is  excep- 
tionally  well  served  by  good-music 
radio  stations.  WQXR  and  WNYC 
have  lor  years  been  providing  the 
rich  musical  fare  that  has  but  re- 
cently been  available  elsewhere.  Yet 
we  have  merely  arrived  at  a  stage  of 
development  the  provinces  are 
bound  to  reach  some  day,  and  we 
have  merely  come  sooner  to  that 
satiety,  that  surfeit  of  goodies,  which 
brings  on  sober  reflections. 

As  an  almost  addicted  listener  to 
music  commentators  I  find  that  I  am 


no  longer  able  to  take  them  casually 
or  give  them  credit  for  simply  exist- 
ing. When  there  are  more  than  a 
do/en  to  choose  from,  you  soon  be- 
gin  to  discriminate  between  the  good 
and  the  frankly  impossible.  David 
Randolph  and  our  own  Edward  Tat- 
nall  Canby  are  good,  to  my  ear,  but 
there  aren't  many  I  would  rank  even 
close  to  them. 

THE  difference  is  one  of  underly- 
ing attitude  toward  music.  Messrs. 
Randolph  and  Canby  and  one  or 
two  others  treat  it  as  something  to 
think  and  feel  about,  something  one 
reacts  to;  the  rest  seem  to  regard  it 
as  something  to  bow  before,  to  grovel 
at.  This  is  I  suppose  the  more  ven- 
erable tradition.  It  is  the  Milton 
Cross,  or  great-gold-curtain,  school 
of  music  commentating.  It  takes  the 
position  that  the  listener  is  being 
privileged,  that  everyone  else  is  do- 
ing him  a  big  favor,  and  that  the 
act  of  composing  or  playing  music  is 
so  inherently  marvelous  as  to  require 
virtually  no  further  comment.  Every 
musician  is  an  "artist,"  all  audiences 
are  "enthusiastic,"  and  every  stand- 
ard in  the  repertory  is  "inspired." 

Here  is  of  course  an  occupational 
hazard  of  good-music  radio.  It  has 
no  commercial  self-discipline,  and 
must  heavily  rely  on  its  own  defini- 
tion of  its  public  responsibilities;  so 
it  can  easily  fall  into  the  habit  of 
being  self-satisfied.  "We've  always 
felt  that  the  average  WQXR  listener 
was  above  average,"  said  WQXR  at 
4:00  p.m.,  September  23,  1957.  "The 
only  thing  constant  about  our  pro- 


graming is  its  consistently  h 
level,"  said  WNYC  at  11:00  a. 
on  August  27,  1957. 

The  announcers  on  WQXR 
pi<  k  on  the  worst  offender,  also  hi 
a  deplorable  tendency  to  be  co/y  a 
chummy,  especially  when  deliver 
commercials  that  masquerade 
something  else— like  the  ads  for  ] 
taurants  that  are  bare-facedly  j: 
sented  as  "suggestions"  for  din 
out.  And  WNYC  has  one  announ 
who  has  been  around  for  years,  m 
gling  scripts  and  ad-libbing  absu 
ties  and  generally  getting  in  the  \ 
of  music. 

With  the  coming  of  binaural— t 
is,  the  broadcasting  of  stereo  tape 
putting  one  channel  on  AM  and  | 
other  on  FM— there  has  been  an 
crease,  besides,  in  the  infatuat 
of  some  commentators  with  sounc 
the  exclusion  of  musical  sense.  T^ 
brings  out  the  worst  in  a  high-fide; 
fan  anyhow,  since  the  things  it  "d; 
best"  are  the  massive,  viscous  orcl 
tral  numbers  that  really  give  a  wc 
out  to  a  super-speaker-system.  Stej 
tape  is  undoubtedly  a  pleasure 
those  who  have  succumbed  to  i 
superb  marketing  device  for  mak 
people  buy  two  of  what  they 
merly  needed  only  one  of— but  W| 
about  the  rest  of  us?  If  you 
have  one  set  and  can  listen  to 
half  of  stereo,  you  hear  a  ludicro 
unbalanced  symphony;  the  str: 
are  in  your  lap  and  the  woodwil 
are  somewhere  out  in  the  streetj 

RANDOLPH     and    Canby 
seem   to  have  thought  more  cle^ 
than  the  rest  about  the  circumstar 
in  which  they  are  being  heard.  TF 
ask  for  just  the  right  amount  of 


He  Knows 
Freedom 
Is  Not  Free! 


W 


Vo  (fotf? 


■  ■  ■    : 

. 

. 

I 

tela  Varga  knows  the  price  of  freedom.  He  escaped 
rom  behind  the  Iron  Curtain  .  .  .  leaving  his  family, 
lis  home,  his  belongings  behind  him. 

But  70,000,000  people  like  Varga  still  remain  behind 
n  the  oppressed  countries  of  Eastern  Europe.  They 
rill  drown  in  the  flood  of  Red  lies,  restrictions,  distor- 
ions  unless  you  help.  For,  word  of  freedom  can  only 
ome  to  them  in  one  way:  from  stations  like  those  of 
ladio  Free  Europe.  Every  day,  every  hour,  the  29 
uper-powered  transmitters  of  this  freedom  network 


are  at  work,  overpowering  Red  efforts  at  "jamming," 
slashing  through  Red  lies,  renewing  hope  that  free- 
dom will  some  day  return  behind  the  Iron  Curtain. 
What  you  must  do:  Radio  Free  Europe  is  a  private 
organization  supported  by  the  American  people. 
Your  dollars  are  needed  to  help  operate  its  trans- 
mitters, pay  for  equipment,  supplies,  announcers  and 
news  analysts.  Remember:  Freedom  is  not  free!  Send 
your  truth  dollars  today  to  Crusade  for  Freedom, 
care  of  your  local  Postmaster. 


FREEDOM  IS  NOT  FREE! 

Your  dollars  are  needed  to  keep  RADIO  FREE  EUROPE  on  the  air! 


1  ce    broadcasting    lubes 

1  ir  out  fast .  .  .  cost  thou- 
R  dsof  dollars  to  replace. 
Rp  us  buy  more!   Give 


•£■."■'' 

aK  ■"■"335 

'  jfc 

anil 

^mWM      M. 

He  puts  freedom 

on  the  air. 

Your  truth  dollars  pay  the 

salaries  of  dozens  of  tech- 

nicians like  him.  Are  you 
giving?  Do  it  today! 

Your  dollar  pays  for  one 
minute  of  broadcasting 
time.  Give  now  to  spread 
the  word  of  freedom  be- 
hind the  iron  Curtain! 


Send  your  truth  dollars  to 

CRUSADE 
FREEDOM 

Care  of  local  Postmaster 


88 


AFTER     HOURS 


tention,  and  not  too  little  of  it.  At 
least  it  seems  to  me  that  "serious" 
miisit  ol  the  nineteenth  or  twentieth 
centuries  makes  very  poor  back- 
ground, or  "mood,"  music.  To  listen 
inattentively  to  the  large  Romantic 
or  post-Romantic  works  invites  a 
kind  ol  vasomuscular  nervousness 
that  is  anything  but  relaxing.  Cham- 
ber music  can  perhaps  be  followed 
with  hall  an  ear,  but  concert-hall 
compositions  demand  all  or  nothing. 
The  virtue  of  the  commentatoi  is 
that  he  can  invite  your  attention  to 
one  or  two  features  ol  the  music  at 
a  time,  so  that  you  hear  it  afresh 
but  don't  have  to  do  all  the  work 
yourself.  To  that  extent  the  pro- 
grams with  comment  make  "easier" 
listening  than  the  many  which  sim- 
ply toss  the  records  at  you  alter  read- 
ing the  labels. 

And  Randolph  and  Canby  have 
controlled,  agreeable  voices.  This 
would  seem  to  be  a  simple  matter, 
but  man)  good-mush  programs  have 
to  be  so  inexpensive  that  they  often 
involve  accepting  in  a  package  deal 
the  sen  ices  ol  a  "commentator"— he 
may  be  a  distinguished  figure  in  his 
line  ol  work,  know  the  subject,  and 
love  to  talk— who  sounds  just  plain 
amateurish  on  the  air.  Part  ol  the 
trouble  is  that  nearly  everyone 
thinks  he  could  do  this,  if  only  he 
had  the  chance,  and  will  not  admit 
to  himself  that  it  is  a  skill  like  any 
other,  which  needs  to  be  learned. 
Since  the  station  is  in  no  position  to 
tell  the  offenders,  and  I  am  much 
too  soft-hearted  to  name  names,  I 
can  only  suggest  that  those  who  feel 
any  twinge  of  guilt  here  examine 
their  consciences,  and  listen  cold- 
bloodedly to  their  own  tapes. 

These  captious  words  are  not  in- 
tended to  be  unfriendly;  in  fact, 
they  proceed  from  an  excess  of  affec- 
tion rather  than  a  lack  of  it.  I  am  so 
much  more  enamored  of  this  kind 
of  radio  than  of  any  other  kind  that 
1  hate  for  it  to  be  any  less  than  it 
could  and  should  be.  Normally,  no 
one  criticizes  the  classical  dee-jay 
programs;  that  is  partly  what's 
wrong  with  them,  and  i  hope  that 
this  initial  attempt  to  start  the  dis- 
cussion will  not  discourage  their 
originators  or  give  comfort  to  their 
foes.  They  are  above  average  and 
their  level  is  high.  Just  don't  go  let- 
ting it  slip. 

—Mr.  Harper 


./  ,..** 


■VZXaV 


-A* 


s..   .:>•■  .'.7 


GOLD     AND    GLORY 

Henry  Hope  Reed  Jr.,  who  takes 
the  position  that  classical  architec- 
ture is  the  only  kind  worth  a  damn, 
has  sent  me  the  following  report  of 
his  recent  trip  to  the  Far  West.  I  re- 
lay it  in  the  trust  that  readers  who 
reject  his  xjiews  will  at  least  enjoy  his 
enthusiasm.  His  book,  The  Golden 
City,    will    he    published    next    fall. 

Dear  Mr.  Harper: 

I  have  seen  the  country's  most 
magnificent  building  and  the  coun- 
try's most  beautiful  murals.  Where 
may  they  be  found,  you  ask?  Wash- 
ington? New  York?  Boston?  New- 
port? No,  the  answer  is  San  Fran- 
cisco and  Los  Angeles. 

Nature  has  of  course  been  more 
than  kind  to  California  but  you  may 
have  wondered  sometimes  if  man's 
work  there  has  been  wholly  a  bless- 
ing. Come  with  me,  then.  In  San 
Francisco  we  go  south  on  Market 
Street,  well  past   the   Palace   Hotel, 


past  the  columned  American  Tl 
and  the  Hibernia  Bank.  Where  1 
ton  and  Leavenworth  touch  Mai 
the  vista  opens.  The  great  masl 
the  City   Hall   bestrides  the  skylit 

But  here  is  a  building  with  th; 
Doric  columns,  bold  masks  on  : 
keystones,  and  large  gold  lantern! 
the  entrance.  Something  about  il 
is  the  Federal  Building)  remind i 
of  the  Department  ol  Labor  Bil 
ing  in  Washington— it  must  II 
come  from  the  same  hand.  You| 
right.  It  is  the  work  oi  Am 
Brown   Jr.  of  San   Francisco. 

But  we  are  dawdling.  Let  us  k 
anothei  route  and  approach  I 
Civic  Center  as  would  the  opl 
lover,  via  Franklin  Street  on  I 
south.  We  find  ourselves  beloJ 
court  guarded  by  tall  railing* 
blue  and  gold  wrought  iron;  tol 
right  is  the  Opera  House,  to  the| 
the  Veterans  Building,  beyond, 
other  grille  of  blue  and  gold  wf 
above  it  all,  facing  us,  towers 
de  me  of  the  City  Hall. 

We'll  go  into  the  Civic  Cents 
the  entrance  of  state:  what  we  1 
before  us  has  been  designed  to 
our   opera-goer   and    even   oursJ 
a  measured  elegance.    The  twin| 
either   side   offer   a    first   story 
round    arched    bays    adorned 
masked  keystones,  a  second  st'oi 
high  windows,  a  balustraded  cori 
an    attic    and    a     barely    percq 
mansard.    Imagine   it   at   night:! 
gold     reflects    the    brightly     lid 
buildings    and    the    high    dome 
yond  is  blazing. 

Again  we  have  been  dawd 
Now  we  proceed  through  the  o 
of  honor,  cross  Van  Ness  Ave 
and  climb  the  steps  of  the  City  J 
The  pile  confronts  us  in  the 
of  a  large  rectangle  made  impo 
by  a  colonnade  of  Roman  Dl 
pedimented  and  columned  poi 
set  off  the  wings.  And  the  domtj 
stands  above  a  columned  dj 
curving  up  to  a  lantern. 

Everywhere  our  visual  hung) 
fed  with  a  wealth  of  detail.   A I 
of  blue  and  gold  lanterns  ornaJ 
the    terrace,    elaborate    gold-on  J 
doors  set  off  the  entrances.    Bel 
Atlan tides  hold  the  central  bal 
on  their  shoulders,  masks  restini 
cornucopias  adorn  the  keystonesj 
wrought  iron  railing  of  the  ba^ 
presents  gold  lions'  heads  and  I 
ing   acanthus   leaves,    the   high 


AFTER     HOURS 

med  porch  carries  a  pediment 
ed  with  figures— Wisdom  stands 
;ween  the  Arts,  Learning,  Truth, 
iustry,  and  Labor. 

DW  for  the  interior.  Traversing 
tately  vestibule  and  corridors,  we 
nd  in  the  great  hall  beneath  the 
me.  Four  massive  piers  rise  up  to 
lr  pendentives  which  spread  and 
n  to  form  a  ring;  upon  it  rest 
mposite  columns  supporting  a 
fered  dome. 

High    Composite    pilasters    mark 
;  main  story,  which,  on  its  north 
d  south  sides,  rises  to  a  high  shal- 
v  barrel  vault,  and  from  it  spills  a 
jht  of  stairs,  like  a  stately  glacier, 
reading  gently  as   it   touches   the 
11  floor.    Again  we  have   the  su- 
rb   detail,    the   bas-reliefs    in    the 
andrels,  the  masks  and  garlands  in 
e  semi-domes  over  doorways,   the 
ures  beneath  the  barrel  vaults,  the 
onze  work  of  the  lamps,  the  bronze 
d  iron  work  of  the  railings. 
We  think  of  the  rotunda  of  the 
itional     Capitol.      The     Missouri 
pitol  is  another  of  the  same  class; 
i  too  are   the  West  Virginia   and 
innesota  Capitols.    But  they  and 
lers  do  not  have   the  unity,   the 
t  quantity  of  ornament,  the  play 
space,    the    total    overwhelming 
set.    I  submit  that  the  San  Fran- 
co City  Hall  is  the  best  that  Amer- 
n  art  has  produced. 
The    architects    of    this    wonder? 
m  Bakewell  Jr.  and  Arthur  Brown 
,  who  can  also  point  to  the  city 
lis  of  Berkeley  and  Pasadena.  Why 
/e  we  not  heard  of  them  before? 
ie   American    Institute    of   Archi- 
ts,    though    last    year's    centenary 
?red   the   opportunity,   has   never 
nored   them.    Current   fashion    is 
'ays  blinding;  no  doubt  when  the 
>dern  goes  into  limbo  the  Insti- 
e  will  suddenly  discover  Bakewell 
1  Brown. 

The  promoters  of  the  arts  center 
Mew  York's  Lincoln  Square  might 
well  to  glance  at  the  San  Fran- 
:o  Civic  Center.  It  is  obvious 
n  current  plans  that  New  York's 
;mpt,  while  admirable  for  size, 
I  hardly  compare  to  the  work  of 
;ewell  and  Brown.  Nor  is  there 
>on  to  believe  that  revisions  will 
ie  for  improvement.  The  Lin- 
i  Square  promoters,  by  turning  to 
Modern  only,  have  denied  the 
;  that  has  gone  before  us.  A  visit 


"But  Can  YOU 
The  Bible  Is 


Suppose  an  unbeliever  challenged  you 
to  do  so. 

Being  a  sincere  Christian,  you  might 
reply:  "I  just  know  it  is."  But  that 
wouldn't  be  proof.  It  would  not  be  very 
convincing  to  the  unbeliever.  And  what 
would  a  skeptic  say  if  you  told  him  you 
have  the  assurance  of  the  Holy  Spirit? 
He  might  well  ask  why  so  many  Chris- 
tians who  claim  this  do  not  agree  on 
the  meaning  of  the  Scriptures. 

What  real  evidence  could  you  pro- 
duce? What  facts  could  you  present? 
Where  could  you  find  a  logical,  con- 
vincing answer? 

Christ,  of  course,  wrote  nothing,  ex- 
cepting on  one  occasion  —  and  then  only 
in  dust.  All  the  original  manuscripts  of 
the  Bible  have  vanished.  The  Bible  itself 
does  not  claim  to  be  the  Inspired  and 
complete  word  of  God.  Our  Lord  did 
not  say  that  His  teachings  would  be 
found  in  a  book.  On  what  authority, 
then,  can  we  be  sure  about  the  Bible? 

The  answer  is,  of  course,  that  the 
only  living  authority  is  the  Catholic 
Church . . .  the  Apostolic  Church  . . .  the 
Church  whose  traditions,  beginning 
with  Peter,  bear  reliable  witness  down 
the  pathway  of  time  from  Christ  to  this 
very  moment.  The  Bible  cannot  prove 
by  its  own  text  that  it  is  inspired.  But 
the  Catholic  Church  can  prove  this. 

Out  of  the  first  century,  the  Church 
can  call  up  such  witnesses  as  Polycarp 
(A.  D.  80),  whose  appointment  as 
Bishop  of  Smyrna  came  personally  from 
John  the  Apostle,  or  Ignatius  of  Anti- 
och,  who  died  about  107  A.  D.  It  can 
present  the  testimony  of  such  second- 
century  writers  as  Clement  of  Alexan- 
dria, Irenaeus,  Tertullian  and  Origen; 
and  from  the  rhird  and  fourth  centuries 
Cyprian  and  Ambrose  and  Eusebius  and 
Cyril,  and  many  others. 

All  these  bear  witness  to  the  vital 
importance  of  the  Apostolic  tradition. 
All  testify  that  the  Scriptures  were  en- 

SUPREME        COUNCIL 

KIHGHTS  of  COLlimBUS 

RELIGIOUS      INFORMATION      BUREAU 

4422     LINDELL     BLVD.  j££k±  ST.    LOUIS     8,    MISSOURI 


trusted  to  the  Church . . .  that  the  Church 
is  their  preserver  and  interpreter  . . .  that 
they  must,  as  Clement  said,  be  inter- 
preted "according  to  the  Church's  rule." 
Writing  in  the  second  century  about 
Polycarp,  who  lived  in  the  first,  Irenaeus 
said:  "The  things  which  he  had  learned 
from  the  Apostles  he  uniformly  taught 
and  delivered  to  the  Church,  and  these 
things  alone  are  true." 

The  Catholic  Church  was  preaching 
the  Gospel  of  Christ  years  before  the 
last  book  of  the  Bible  was  written . . . 
centuries  before  its  writings  were  com- 
bined into  a  single  book  . . .  nearly  1,500 
years  before  the  Bible  gained  world- 
wide distribution.  If  you  want  to  know 
more  about  the  Church  and  the  earliest 
followers  of  Jesus  Christ ...  if  you  want 
convincing  proof  to  support  your  Chris- 
tian convictions  . . .  write  today  for  our 
free  pamphlet  giving  a  brief  but  dra- 
matic story  in  the  words  of  the  fourth- 
century  historian,  Eusebius.  It  will  be 
mailed  to  you  in  a  plain  wrapper;  no- 
body will  call  on  you.  Ask  for  Pamphlet 
No.  D-45. 


SUPREME  COUNCIL 
KNIGHTS  OF  COLUMBUS 
RELIGIOUS   INFORMATION   BUREAU 
4422  Lindell  Blvd.,  St.  Louis  8,  Mo. 

Please  send  me  Free  Pamphlet  entitled   "But  Can 
YOU   Prove  The  Bible   Is  True?"  D-45 


NAME_ 


ADDRESS. 


CITY_ 


_STATE. 


90 


FOR  MORE  VACATION  FUN 

!!!  GIMLET 

29  YRS.  TRAVEL  WISE  TRAVELERS  GUIDE 

Where  and  How  to  Go.  What  to  See.  The  Costs 
CANADA  thru  FLORIDA,  and  Enroute  Nassau, 
Cuba,  West  Indies.  Includes  N.Y.C.  228  PAGES 
illus.  Price  $1.00  postpaid.  Address  The  Gimlet, 
Dept.  20-H,  745— 5th  Ave.,  N.Y.C    22. 

Typical  Hotels  Recommended  &  Described 

PALM  BEACH,  FLA 

PALM  BEACH  TOWERS, 


(CATERING  PARTICU- 
LARLY TO  THOSE  WHO 
COMMAND  THE  FIN- 
EST |  THIS  NEW  LUX- 
URY HOTEL  IS  THE 
CENTER  OF  PALM 
BEACH'S  SOCIAL  SEA- 
SON. Two  swimming 
pools,  gay  cabana 
club,  golf,  tennis  .  .  . 
dancing  and  entertain- 
ing nightly  in  the 
Poiciana  Room.  The 
ultimate  in  gracious 
resort  living  .  .  .  three 
or  four  room  suites 
with  one  or  two  bed- 
rooms, living  room, 
dining  area,  complete 
kitchen  and  terrace. 
Also  studio  suites  with 
large  kitchen 
if  you  prefer,  smartly 
decorated  twin-bedded 
guest  rooms  with  im- 
posing view.  (INDI- 
VIDUALLY CON- 
TROLLED AIR  CONDI- 
TIONING AND  HEAT- 
ING—LARGE SCREEN 
TELEVISION  )  COM- 
PLETE HOTEL  SERV- 
ICES. For  reservations, 
write  Palm  Beach  Tow- 
ers, Palm  Beach,  Flor- 
ida. 


ST     PETERSBURG, 

FLORIDA 

SUWANNEE  HOTEL, 

(AN  ADDRESS  OF  DIS- 
TINCTION), right  in 
the  heart  of  down- 
town St.  Petersburg, 
beautifully  situated 
opposite  Mirror  Lake. 
250  delightful  rooms, 
each  with  private  bath 
and  shower.  3  dining 
rooms,  bar  and  cock- 
tail lounge,  DRIVE-IN 
ENTRANCE,  GARAGE 
ON  PREMISES,  AIR- 
CONDITIONING  AVAIL- 
ABLE, ENJOY  THE 
BEAUTIFUL  MIROBAR- 
CORAL  ROOM  where 
Southern  Style  Food  is 
the  keynote  and  Spoon 
Bread  is  featured 
daily,  one  of  the 
places  to  dine  in  St. 
Petersburg.  The  Ban- 
quet Room,  Reception 
Room,  Garden  Room 
are  popular.  Shuffle 
Board  Courts,  a  Put- 
ting Green  and  Sun- 
Deck  are  added  attrac- 
tions. OPEN  ALL  YEAR. 
Paul  Brown,  Vice-Pres- 
ident and  General 
Manager. 


AFTER     HOURS 


VIEWS  UNLIMITED!  Towering  high  above  ex- 
clusive Beekman  Hill,  our  rooms  command 
superb  views  of  the  East  River.  U.N.  and  the 
New  York  skyline.  Your  dollar  still  buys  a  lot 
of  good  living  here.  Singles  from  S7.00 

WRITE  FOR  BOOKLET  HA 


J^eekman  dower 


[OPffTHE 

TOWER      , 

cocktau    ^~  HOTEL 

A^/        «9tM  ST.  AT  EAST  RIVER.  NEW  YORK   17.11  T. 


HARPSICHORDS 

Clavichords,  Spinets 
by 

Wittmayer  of  Gartenherg,  Germany. 
Builder  of  the  world's  moxl  reliable  inBtru- 
mcntH.  Clavichords  from  $450.  Harpsi- 
chords from  $990,  delivered  in  U.  S. 

144  S.  Commonwealth  Avenue 
LOS  ANGELES  4,  CALIFORNIA 


to  San  Francisco  might  help  them 
overcome  then  obsessive  feai  ol  gold, 
ol  symbols,  ol  tradition  and,  espe- 
( ially,  <>l   the  human  form  in  ai  t. 

s  \  \  FRANCISCANS  mean- 
while might  pa)  bettei  attention  to 
theii   <  hie!  gloi  \.     1  lie  ornamenl  ol 

the    dome    .mil    I. inn  I  n    ol    the    (.il\ 

Hall  are  badl)  in  need  ol  re-gilding. 
And.  further,  inm.il  painting—  thi 
one  an  the  Civi<  Center  is  weak  in— 
could  will   be  added   to  the  Opera 

I  fouse.  I  In  <  n\  fathers  need  not  go 
I. ii  io  find  good  «-x.iin pit -^.  foi  the 
Id  si  ones  in  the  country  are  in  Los 
Angeles.  Going  to  Southern  Cali- 
fornia is  noi  eaS)  loi  a  San  Fran- 
ciscan. I  know,  hut  he  will  have  one 
consolation— no  one  in  Los  Angeles 
s<  i  ins  io  know  about  the  murals. 

Allow  me  to  continue  in  the  role 
ol  guide.  We'll  proceed  to  the  come  i 
ol  Western  Avenue  and  Adams 
Boulevard,  which  is  not  too  far  from 
Downtown  Los  Angeles,  and  go  can 
hilly  north  on  Adams.  Soon  we'll 
come  to  a  wall  ol  dark  brick.  This  is 
OUl  goal,  the  house  and  library  ol 
the  late  William  A.  Claik,  son  of  the 
famous  Senatoi  from  Montana  (ii  is 
now  the  propert)  ol  the  University 
of  California  in  Los  Angeles).  The 
entrance  is  around  the  corner  on 
Cimarron  Street.  The  house  that 
greets  us  is  indifferent  but  beyond, 
set  in  a  terraced  garden  with  pools, 
stands  the  library.  It  is  a  pleasant 
building  of  brick  with  Spanish 
baroque  stone  trim,  designed  by 
Robert  Farquhar  in  1926. 

Painting  welcomes  us  at  the 
threshold.  Above  a  marble-lined 
hall  gods  and  goddesses  disport  in 
cloud-filled  heavens  over  open  Ba- 
roque arches.  Beneath  them  are 
seated  giants,  lolling  against  cornu- 
copias, guarding  niches  containing 
symbols  of  the  arts  and  sciences. 

The  medium  is  oil  on  canvas,  so 
smooth  that  it  might  be  fresco,  and 
the  ceiling  is  coved.  Here  is  false 
perspective,  skillfully  constructed 
architecture,  graceful  figures  resting 
on  clouds,  the  human  form  painted 
as  few  can  do  it  today.  Paul  Valery 
said  that  the  triumph  of  the  artist 
was  to  place  ten  or  more  figures  in 
a  setting  and  have  them  live  and 
breathe— and  this  was  done  here. 

An  imperial  introduction,  this 
hall;  it  leads  to  a  high-ceilinged 
music  room  which  looks  out  on  a 


wide  lawn.  Two  large  canvase 
grace  the  end  walls  and  above  ar 
man)  more  of  them  set  in  what  mill 

Ik-  the  most  elaborately  carved  wod 

ceiling    in    the   loumn.     Mask 
lands    ol    fruit,    fluttering    ribbon 
cut  lolled  leather  patterns  weave  ii 
ti  ic  ate   li.mic  s  about    the  c  am  ases. 

I  he  jnctiiics  aie  ol  varying  sizes 
the  J  a  i  m  ■  ones,  like  the  two  on  th] 
end  walls,  depict  scenes  ol  Anton 
and  Cleopatra  from  Dryden's  All  fc 
I '.a,  ■<■ ,  a  favoi  iic  ol  the  c  lient.  El* 
where  in  smallei  panels  are  symbol! 
figures,  a  maiden  with  a  tambourine 
an  old  man  with  a  dove,  a  \otit 
with  a  laurel  crown  in  one  hard 
and  a  pail  ol  calipers  in  the  Othfl 
All  are  painted  in  bright  Venetia] 
colors  with  the  same  lone  that  di 
tinguished  the  work  in   the  hall. 

We  can  think  ol  our  great  mural 
those  ol  the  New  York  Publj 
Library  h\  Edward  Laning,  the  wod 
ol  Brumidi  in  the  National  Capita 
John  La  Farge's  "Ascension''  in  \e 
Yoik's  Chinch  ol  the  Ascensioi 
I'm  is  de  Chavannes'  murals  in  tq 
Boston  Public  Library— all  have 
qualit)  which  sets  them  apart.  B 
for  over-all  power  these  in  the  Clar 
Library  win. 

Fhe  artist?  Allyn  Cox  of  Xe 
York,  who  completed  the  grisail 
frieze  in  the  rotunda  of  the  Nation; 
Capitol  several  years  ago.  And  ho 
can  California  claim  him?  By  th! 
fact  that  his  work  is  there,  commi 
sioned  by  a  Calif  ornian  who  was 
generous,  intelligent,  and  demam 
in",  client— and  a  good  client  has 
much  to  do  with  great  art  as  tl 
artist. 

The  University  might  ask  Mr.  Co 
to  return,  if  only  to  paint  over  watd 
stains  in  the  hall  mural  caused  by 
leaking  tool.  More  important,  tn 
promoters  of  Lincoln  Square  coul 
stop  there  in  their  tour  of  the  Wes 
They  would  do  well  to  turn  to  artis 
in  matters  of  design  and  decoratioi 
an  aspect  of  their  project  which  aj 
pears  to  have  been  neglected. 

This  coming  summer  will  bl 
marked  by  an  important  event  il 
California— the  great  Hearst  Castl 
at  San  Simeon  will  be  thrown  ope 
to  the  public  as  a  museum.  Visitor 
in  search  of  splendor,  could  do  wor- 
than  seek  out  the  Clark  Librai 
murals  in  Los  Angeles  and  the  Sa 
Francisco  Civic  Center  as  well. 

—Henry  Hope  Reed  Ji 


ART  YOUR  CHILD  ON  THIS  SENSIBLE  PLAN . . .  designed  to  instill  a  lifetime 

LOVE  OF  GOOD  BOOKS  AND  ASSIST  HIM-WITHOUT  PRESSURE-IN  HIS  SCHOOL  WORK 


5oth  Given 

WITH   A   FOUR-MONTH 
TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION   TO 

ofAmerka 

THE  RAND  McNALLY 

WORLD-MASTER"   GLOBE 

and 

FUNK  &  WAGNALLS 

JUNIOR  DICTIONARY 


*THE  plan  •  Young  Read- 
ers of  America  was  organ- 
ized by  the  Book-of-the- 
Month  Club  to  encourage 
>ng  children  a  lasting  affection  for 
th-while  reading.  It  is  built  around 
oup  of  quite  remarkable  books  about 
)ry  —  Landmark  Books  —  which  "have 
!  the  imagination  and  held  the  atten- 
of  tens  of  thousands  of  young  people" 
Y.  Times).  They  are  written  by  out- 
ding  contemporary  authors,  most  of 
m  made  their  reputations  in  the  field 
irious  adult  writing— authors  like  John 
ther,  Pearl  Buck,  Thomas  B.  Costain, 
3thy  Canfield  Fisher,  John  Mason 
vn,  Quentin  Reynolds  and  many 
rs. 

HILDREN  WHO  LOVE  TO  READ  ALMOST 
AYS  DO  BETTER  IN  SCHOOL  •  Besides 
immediate  pleasure  each  book  pro- 
s,  this  plan  instills  in  your  child  a  nat- 
love  of  books.  As  his  collection  grows, 
book  helps  him  to  enjoy  his  own 
i  of  "discovery,"  not  influenced  by 
And,  as  most  educators  will  point 


out,  children  who  learn  to  love  books  in 
this  manner  usually  make  the  best  and 
most  interested  students. 

*  A  FOUR-MONTH  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  is 
suggested  if  you  wish  to  see  how  your 
own  young  reader  responds  to  the  idea 
over  a  short  period.  To  excite  and  in- 
spire him  immediately,  he  will  receive, 
free,  the  enrollment  gifts  pictured.  With 
them  he  will  receive  the  Landmark  Book 
you  select  from  the  four  listed  below,  as 


the  first  purchase.  At  the  end  of  the  trial 
subscription,  if  you  do  not  feel  the  plan 
is  succeeding  with  your  child,  you  are  free 
to  cancel  the  subscription  at  any  time. 

*  THE  SYSTEM  IS  SIMPLE  •  Each  month 
your  child  will  receive  a  Landmark  Book 
addressed  to  him  personally,  always  an 
exciting  moment  in  any  home.  The  special 
price  to  subscribers,  lower  than  the  regular 
retail  price,  is  only  SI. 75  each,  plus  a 
small   charge  for  postage  and  handling. 


50    BOOKPLATES    ALSO    GIVEN    TO 
ENCOURAGE    LIBRARY    BUILDING 

Young  Readers 
of  America 

A  BRANCH  OF 

BOOK-OFTHE-MONTH  CLUB,  INC. 


BEGIN  THE 
TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION 
WITH  ONE  OF  THESE 


WILD  Bl  LL 
HICKOK 

Holbrwjfc 


ALEXANDER 
THE  GREAT 


THE  STORY 
OF  THE 

SECRET 

SERVICE 

by  Ferdinand 

Kuhn 


MARI  E 

ANTOINETTE 

by  Eemardlne 

Klelty 


Book-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc.,  345  Hudson   St.,  New  York  14,  N.Y.  13-3 
YOUNG   READERS  OF  AMERICA*   Branch 

JJlease  enroll  the  child  named  below  in  a  four-month  trial  sub- 
*  scription  to  Young  Readers;  of  America  and  send  him  free  the 
Rand  McNally  "World-Master"  Globe  and  Funk  &  Wag-- 
nalls  Standard  Junior  Dictionary  with  the  purchase  of  the  first 
Landmark  Book  indicated  below.  Also  send  the  50  bookplates, 
free.  You  are  to  send  the  child  one  Landmark  Book  each  month 
and  bill  me  at  S1.75  (plus  a  few  cents  postage)  for  each  book.  I 
may  cancel  the  membership  at  any  time  after  buying  four  books 
for  the  child. 

As  the  child's  first  book,  please  send 


•    ','.<■   ',f   the    books  plctarf/l  at  left) 
Information    requested    on   this   order   should   be  filled   in   by   parent   or 

donor — PLEASE  PRINT 
SEND 
BOOKS    TO 


NAME  OF  r.H/LD 


Street_ 


City. 


_Zone_ 


Jitate_ 


Mr.  ) 
ORDERED  BY  Mrs.} 

Miss ) 
Street 


NAME  OF  PARENT  OR  DONOR 


City. 


_State_ 


.YR-24 


NOTE:    A   subscription   makes   on   excellent   birthday   gift 


'Trademark  oj  Bciok-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc. 


the  new 


BOOKS 


PAUL   PICKREL 


A  Question  of  Identity 


WITH  the  publication  of  his  third  novel, 
I  Like  It  Here  (Harcourt,  Brace,  $3.75), 
it  hecomes  clear  that  Kingsley  Amis  has  only  one 
major  comic  idea,  and  that  by  this  time  it  has 
worn  more  than  a  little  thin.  His  first  novel, 
Lucky  Inn,  was  a  very  funny  book;  his  second 
novel,  That  Uncertain  Feeling,  was  a  tunny 
book;  but  /  Like  ft  Here  is  only  intermittently 
entertaining. 

Like  most  comic  novelists,  including  his  hero 
Henry  Fielding,  Amis  sets  out  to  castigate  hy- 
pocrisy, but  the  hypocrisy  he-  castigates  is  ol  a 
rather  special  kind.  Traditionally  the  hypocrite 
has  been  simph  a  man  who  is  trying  to  make 
other  people  think  that  he  is  better  than  he  in 
fact  is,  and  he  has  been  found  reprehensible  on 
the  grounds  that  he  is  taking  credit  lor  a  moral 
worth  that  he  does  not  have.  The  kind  of 
hypocrisy  Amis  goes  after  is  less  moral  than 
cultural,  if  the  word  cultural  can  still  be  used 
in  its  old-fashioned  or  pre-Nfargaret  Mead  sense 
to  refer  to  the  Better  Things  in  Life  (literature, 
art,  music,  etc.).  And  Amis  attacks  cultural 
hypocrisy  not  so  much  because  it  is  a  way  of 
fooling  other  people  (probably  he  would  say 
that  if  other  people  are  fooled  by  it  they  deserve 
to  be)  but  because  it  is  a  way  of  swindling  our- 
selves. 

The  line  of  serious  thought  behind  Amis' 
satire  seems  to  go  something  like  this:  The  most 
valuable  thing  in  life  is  freedom,  and  the  greatest 
danger  is  the  danger  of  losing  it.  All  kinds  of 
horrible  things  are  a  threat  to  freedom,  of  course, 
but  Amis  as  a  comic  writer  pays  little  attention 
to  them;  for  him  the  primrose  path  to  the  loss  of 
freedom  is  decked  out  with  the  Better  Things 
in  Life.  Their  seductiveness  does  not  lie  in  their 
being  less  valuable  than  they  are  said  to  be,  but 
in  the  fact  that  they  come  to  us  surrounded  by 
an  apparatus  of  approved  attitudes  toward  them 
and  established  opinions  about  them.  They  have 
become  the  instruments  of  a  bureaucracy  of 
culture  that  jeopardizes  our  spontaneity  and 
cramps  our  freedom  to  be  ourselves  by  standard- 
izing our  responses.  The  fact  that  Amis  is  him- 
self a  lecturer  and  critic  as  well  as  a  novelist,  and 


with    /    Like    It    Here    is    that 
in    danger    of    becoming    almost 


to  that  extent  a  member  of  the  bureaucracy  of 
culture,  means  that  a  good  deal  of  his  work  is 
sell-satire,  and  that  is  often  one  of  its  chief 
delights. 

The  trouble 
it  shows  Amis 
as  predictable  as  the  thing  he  is  attacking. 
The  book  is  essentially  an  attempt  to  have  fun 
with  the  cliches  about  foreign  travel,  and  Amis 
doggedly  goes  about  upsetting  established  no- 
tions about  the  alleged  intellectual,  spiritual, 
and  physical  benefits  of  going  abroad.  Occa- 
sionally he  is  genuinely  amusing,  but  frequently 
he  shows  signs  of  fatigue.  Perhaps  the  necessity 
of  always  being  spontaneous  also  entails  a  loss 
of  freedom;  being  ourselves  often  consists  of 
bearing  a  remarkable  family  resemblance  to  the 
rest  of  the  human  race. 

Amis  attempts  to  turn  his  travelogue  into 
a  novel  by  introducing  a  plot  that  must  not  have 
cost  him  much  pain  to  construct.  It  concerns  the 
efforts  of  some  London  publishers  to  discover 
whether  or  not  a  manuscript  they  have  received 
is  authentic.  The  manuscript  purports  to  be  the 
work  of  a  famous  writer  who  has  long  lived  in 
seclusion  abroad  and  is  generally  thought  to  be 
dead,  though  no  one  knows  for  sure  that  he  is. 
Possibly  it  is  the  work  of  an  impostor,  and  the 
task  of  Amis'  hero  on  his  travels  is  to  seek  out 
the  author  and  to  determine  if  he  is  the  same 
man  who  wrote  the  earlier  books.  The  conclu- 
sion is  that  he  must  be,  because  he  is  too  big  a 
fraud  to  be  a  fake— i.e.,  he  has  been  victimized 
by  fixed  ideas  of  his  own  importance  on  a  scale 
that  couid  be  accomplished  only  in  a  lifetime  of 
working  at  it.  This  makes  him  a  good  example 
of  the  horrors  that  result  when  a  man  does  not 
meet  life  spontaneously,  and  therefore  a  neat 
illustration  of  Amis'  ideas,  but  it  does  not  make 
him  an  interesting  or  convincing  character. 

TO     FACE     THE     WORLD 

I N  The  Return  of  Ansel  Gibbs  (Knopf, 
$3.75)  the  young  American  novelist  Frederick 
Buechner  is  also  concerned  with  a  question  of 
identity  but  for  Buechner  it  is  a  universal  ques- 


My 

Brother's 

Keeper 

JAMES  JOYCE'S 
EARLY  YEARS 

by  his  brother 
STANISLAUS 


"Stanislaus  Joyce's  book  is  not  only  indispensable  as  a  study  of  a  great 
author  by  his  brother,  but  it  would  be  fascinating  even  if  the  brother  were 
a  complete  unknown.  Really,  the  talent  in  the  Joyce  family  is  almost 
incredible."— FRANK  O'CONNOR 

In  this  salty,  outspoken,  affectionate  portrait  of  his  brother,  Stanislaus  Joyce  has  written  a 
book  of  unique  interest  and  high  literary  distinction.  Every  page  crackles  with  his  razor-sharp 
powers  of  observation,  with  his  Irish  gift  for  vituperation.  Authoritative  and  explicit,  this 
remarkable  biography  covers  James  Joyce's  early  years,  the  all-important  Dublin  years  which 
were  the  wellsprings  of  everything  he  was  to  write.  Stanislaus  was  the  one  person  with  both 
the  ability  and  the  closeness  to  Joyce  to  re-create  this  fascinating  period,  and  to  give  us 
insights  and  personal  data  nowhere  else  available.  Illustrated  #5.00 

Introduction  and  notes  by  RICHARD  ELLMANN 
Preface  by  T.  S.  ELIOT 


i    :  > 


\ 


THE  VIKING  PRESS 


Jew  York  22,  N.  V. 


Now 

in 

handsome 

paper 

bindings! 


POETS  OF  THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE 

Edited  by  W.  H.  Auden  and  Norman  Holmes  Pearson 

The  poetic  riches  of  600  years  have  been  gathered  together  in  these  five  remarkable  volumes. 
Beautifully  designed  and  bound  durably  in  paper,  they  offer  a  magnificent  survey  of  British 
and  American  poetry  from  Middle  English  to  modern  times. 

"Beyond  question  the  best  and  most  useful  anthology  of  English  poetry 
ever  made."— ALLEN  TATE 

"A  splendid  collection  . . .  done  by  editors  who  have  a  true  feeling  for  poetic  craftsmanship 
in  all  its  glorious  diversity."— DAVID  DAICHES,  Saturday  Review 

Each  volume  contains  nearly  100,000  lines  of  verse,  yet  the  price  is  ONLY  #1.45  each. 
MEDIEVAL  AND  RENAISSANCE  POETS:  Langland  to  Spenser 
ELIZABETHAN  AND  JACOBEAN  POETS:  Marlowe  to  Marvell 
RESTORATION  AND  AUGUSTAN  POETS:  Milton  to  Goldsmith 
ROMANTIC  POETS:  Blake  to  Poe 
VICTORIAN  AND  EDWARDIAN  POETS:  Tennyson  to  Yeats 


THE  GRAPES  OF  WRATH 
by  John  Steinbeck     #1.95 


DEATH  OF  A  SALESMAN 
by  Arthur  Miller     #.95 


THE  APPRENTICESHIP  OF  ERNEST  HEMINGWAY 
by  Charles  A.  Fenton     #1.45 


94 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


tion.  i lie  question  every  man  must  ask  himself 
when  he  (onus  up  against  the  myster)  ol  his 
own  being  and  is  forced  to  wonder  who  he  is  and 
what  he  is  up  to  in  the  world. 

Buechner  writes  about  people  who  have 
about  as  much  freedom  as  human  beings  ever  get. 
The)  art-  not  taken  in  by  the  cultural  hypocrisy 
thai  Amis  attacks,  or  by  an)  oilier  kind  of  hy- 
pocrisy; they  are  sophisticated,  intelligent,  com- 
plex people,  with  enough  money  or  position  or 
accomplishment  to  enable  them  to  live  their 
lives  on  their  own  terms  as  nearly  as  anyone  can; 
and  the  plot  of  the  novel  is  skillfully  designed 
to  make  each  of  the  main  characters  discover  or 
decide  what  his  terms  are. 

Two  characters  dominate  the  story.  One  is 
Ansel  Gibbs,  a  rich  and  well-born  lawyer  who 
has  served  in  several  important  government  posi- 
tions by  appointment  and  has  now  been  asked  to 
join  the  President's  Cabinet,  but  who  has  always 
had  the  feeling  of  living  on  the  fringes  of  things, 
the  sense  that  because  he  has  not  had  to  partici- 
pate in  the  dirty  give-and-take  ol  everyday  affairs 
he  is  overintellectual,  effete,  and  not  quite  real. 
The  other  is  a  sensationally  successful  young  tele- 
vision performer,  Robin  Tripp,  who  has  worn 
so  many  different  faces  before  the  world  that 
he  does  not  know  which  face  is  his  own. 

The  two  men  are  linked  by  the  fact  that  young 
Tripp  is  a  friend  and  possibly  a  suitor  of  Gibbs' 
daughter,  by  the  further  fact  that  Gibbs  was  the 
best  friend  of  Tripp's  father  and  possibly  the 
cause  of  his  suicide,  and  by  the  still  further  fact 
that  both  men  are  deeply  puzzled  about  who 
they  really  are.  The  older  man  is  in  danger  of 
being  lost  inside  himself,  of  ending  his  days 
overhearing  the  irresolute  soliloquy  of  his  own 
mind,  and  the  younger  is  in  danger  of  being  lost 
in  sheer  appearance,  of  evaporating  like  the 
Cheshire  cat  and  leaving  only  his  famous  tele- 
vision grin  behind. 

The  resolution  of  The  Return  of  Ansel  Gibbs 
lies  in  an  attitude  that  may  not  be  very  original 
with  Buechner  but  is  sharp  and  telling  in  the 
context  of  the  novel.  Each  of  the  men  has  to 
learn  from  the  other— the  young  man  must  learn 
from  the  older  to  live  with  the  ambiguity  that 
lies  behind  his  many  public  faces,  and  the  older 
must  learn  from  the  younger  that  to  spend  one's 
days  in  examining  one's  own  complexity  is  not 
enough:  one  must  also  act,  in  the  double  sense 
of  assuming  a  face  before  the  world  and  of  doing 
something. 

The  Return  of  A>isel  Gibbs  will  probably  not 
appeal  to  a  large  group  of  readers;  its  moral 
drama  is  too  fine-spun,  its  ideas  too  difficult,  its 
prose  too  intricate.  Yet  for  those  who  are  willing 
to  read  a  novel  that  examines  the  possibilities 
and  necessities  ol  our  existence  at  a  high 
level  of  seriousness,  it  will  prove  well  worth  the 
trouble,  for  it  is  a  beautifully  contrived  piece  of 
work. 


ONE    IN    TWO 

TH  E  two  young  men  who  are  the  antagonists 
in  The  Freest  Man  on  Earth  by  James 
Whitfield  Ellison  (Doubleday,  $3.95)  ate  laced 
with  the  question  of  identity  in  an  unusually 
acute  lot  in.  because  they  seem  to  have  only  one 
identity  between  .them.  They  are  brothers,  the 
younger  a  repository  of  every  conventional  opin- 
ion and  attitude,  the  older  a  recluse,  an  eccen- 
tric, and  by  some  standards  an  egomaniac.  The 
younger  brother  disapproves  of  everything  the 
other  brother  does  and  stands  for,  yet  in  his 
heart  he  is  terrified  to  recognize  that  he  is  com- 
pletely dependent  on  him. 

This  curious  psychological  relationship  is  the 
result  of  the  very  odd  upbringing  the  brothers 
have  had.  Their  father  was  a  rich  and  irresponsi- 
ble playboy  who  achieved  national  notoriety  as 
the  outstanding  draft-dodger  of  the  first  world 
war.  For  some  years  after  the  war  he  lived  in 
Europe;  then  he  recanted,  brought  his  family 
back  to  the  United  States,  served  five  years  in 
prison,  and  emerged  a  tiresome  old  professional 
patriot. 

Naturally  their  father's  history  puts  the  sons 
in  no  very  enviable  position  when  they  in  turn 
reach  draft  age,  especially  since  the  older  feels 
compelled  to  follow  his  father's  example  of 
evading  the  draft  (though  for  what  he  regards 
as  very  different  reasons)  and  the  younger  sees  a 
second  family  scandal  as  a  final  blow  to  his  hopes 
of  leading  a  conventional  life,  of  marrying  well 
and  succeeding  in  business. 

What  Ellison  seems  to  be  trying  to  do  in 
The  Freest  Man  on  Earth  is  to  explore  some 
fundamental  ideas  about  freedom.  The  father 
as  a  young  man  and  his  older  son  have  both 
sacrificed  everything  to  their  own  conceptions 
of  individual  freedom,  different  as  they  are— the 
father  mindlessly  pursuing  his  own  enjoyment, 
the  son  painfully  seeking  out  principles  and 
examining  his  own  motives;  but  in  the  end  their 
careers  have  the  same  effect— they  ruin  those 
who  depend  on  them. 

But  Ellison  starts  so  many  more  hares  than 
he  can  or  does  pursue  that  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  tell  what  the  book  means.  The  trouble  is  not 
that  he  has  imagined  his  story  falsely  but  that 
he  has  left  large  hunks  of  it  unwritten.  True,  it 
would  take  a  Dostoevsky  and  about  500  more 
pages  than  Ellison  has  allowed  himself  to  do  full 
justice  to  the  situation,  but  Ellison  might  have 
got  more  of  it  clown  on  paper  than  he  has.  He 
has  not  achieved  unity  in  the  structure  of  the 
book  or  even  in  the  style,  for  he  can  and  does 
write  in  several  different  styles,  including,  appar- 
ently, the  style  of  the  last  novelist  he  happens 
to  have  read. 

Yet  Ellison  shows  boldness  and  range  in  this 
book,  and  a  healthy  unwillingness  to  repeat 
himself  (his  previous  book  was  the  widely  popu- 


^\ 


EDWARD  WEEKS 
and  EMILY  FLINT 

JUBILEE 

ONE  HUNDRED  YEARS 
OF  THE  ATLANTIC 


"As  interesting,  stimulating  and  delightful  a 
literary  feast  as  the  intelligent  reader  has  been 
invited  to  sit  down  to  in  a  long  time,"  says  the 
TV.  Y.  Times  of  this  superb  collection  of  prose, 
poetry  and  fiction  by  128  great  writers  of  the 
past  one  hundred  years,  selected  from  1,200 
issues  of  The  Atlantic.  "A  big,  rich  book." 
—The  New  Yorker. 
An  Atlantic  Monthly  Press  Book.  $7.50 


CHARLES  W. 
FERGUSON 

NAKED  TO 
MINE  ENEMIES 

THE    LIFE   OF   CARDINAL   WOLSEY 


"The  best  biography  of  Wolsey  that  we  have 
or  are  likely  to  have,"  says  the  noted  historian 
A.  L.  Rowse  in  his  front  page  review  in  the 
N.  Y.  Times.  A  magnificent  chronicle  of  the 
rise  and  fall  of  the  churchman  who  became  one 
of  the  most  powerful  men  in  English  history. 
Great  figures  are  drawn  in  bold  strokes  — 
Henry  VIII,  Catherine  of  Aragon,  Anne  Boleyn, 
Pope  Clement  VII,  Francis  I  —  and,  towering 
above  all,  the  Cardinal.  $6.00 


G.  BROMLEY 
OXNAM 

A  TESTAMENT 
OF  FAITH 


With  the  insight  and  courage  that  have  made 
him  one  of  America's  most  famous  churchmen, 
Bishop  Oxnam  has  written  an  inspiring  book, 
a  striking  expression  of  his  own  faith.  "Many 
a  Christian  will  be  a  stronger  one  for  reading 
this  book,  and  many  others  will  seek  to  know 
more  about  a  faith  which  can  end  on  such  a 
note  of  triumph."— Virginia  Kirkus.        $3.00 


Youn9f 


STEPHEN 
BIRMINGHAM 

YOUNG 
MR.  KEEFE 


"One  of  the  best  first  novels  I  have  read  in  sev- 
eral years,"  is  John  P.  Marquand's  comment 
on  Young  Mr.  Keefe  which  introduces  an  im- 
pressive new  fiction  talent  to  American  read- 
ers. What  Fitzgerald  did  for  the  twenties,  what 
Hemingway  did  for  the  thirties,  Stephen  Bir- 
mingham does  for  the  fifties.  In  young  Mr. 
Keefe's  story  he  captures  the  excitement  of  a 
new  and  different  generation.  $3.95 


BERTON 
ROUECHE 

THE  INCURABLE  WOUND 

AND   FURTHER   NARRATIVES 
OF  MEDICAL  DETECTION 

At  all  bookstores 


The  author  of  the  widely  read  Eleven  Blue 
Men  presents  six  new  stories,  all  true,  that 
combine  the  fascination  of  medicine  with  the 
excitement  and  suspense  of  mystery  fiction. 
Scientific  authenticity  and  brilliant  reporting 
have  made  Berton  Roueche's  narratives  of 
medical  detection  as  popular  with  physicians 
as  with  lay  readers.  $3.50 


LITTLE,  BROWN  &  COMPANY  •  boston 


I 


9t> 


FIRST  BLOOD 

The  Story  of  Fort  Sumter 

by  W.  A.  Swanberg 

author  of  Sickles,  the  Incredible 

'Nobody  has  told  [the  Sumter  story] 
in  one  place  as  vividly  and  completely 
as  Mr.  Swanberg  does  in 'first  blood.' 
The  drama  and  the  tragedy  of  Sumter 
come  thi-ough  to  the  reader  as  in  few 
other  books.  The  author  has  been  un- 
usually successful  in  catching  the 
psychology  of  the  situation." 

T.  HARRY  WILLIAMS, 

The  Saturday  Review 
$5.95 


THEODORE  ROOSEVELT 

The  Formative  Years:  1858-1886 

by  Carleton  Putnam 


"This  book,  for  the  period  it  cov- 
ers, is  the  best  biography  of 
Theodore  Roosevelt." 

—  ALICE  ROOSEVELT  LONGWORTH 

Volume  I  in  the  projected  four 
volume  biography  of  Roosevelt  is 
unique  because  the  author  is  the 
first  to  have  access  to  the  family 
papers  and  to  many  private  collec- 
tions of  correspondence. 
A  vivid  account  of  Theodore 
Roosevelt's  childhood,  his  battle 
for  health,  his  career  at  Harvard, 
his  first  marriage,  and  his  early 
stormy  political  struggles.  $10.00 


2sss* 


GEORGE 
WASHINGTON 

VOLUME  VII:  First  in  Peace 

By  John  Alexander  Carroll 
and  Mary  Wells  Ashworth 

Douglas  Southall  Freeman's  great 
biography  is  brought  to  a  triumphant 
conclusion  in  this  final  volume  writ- 
ten by  his  two  associates  "with  such 
skill  that  virtually  no  readers  will  be 
aware  of  the  fact  that  this  final  vol- 
ume was  not  written  by  Mr.  Freeman 
himself."  —  carl  bridenbaugh, 

New  York  Times  Book  Review 
$10.00 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 

lar  story  of  the  triumphs  and  tribi 
lations    of    adolescence,    I'm    Owe 
Harrison     Harding).      He    shows 
powerful   if  impatient   imaginatioi 
a  gifl  loi  drawing  vivid  and  unusui 
characters,    a    considerable    treedoi 
with  language  (though  he  may  hal 
overexpanded    his   vocabulary    by 
little),   and    an   engaging    wit.    Tf 
worst  you  can  say  about  The  Free) 
Alan  on  Earth   is  also  the  best:   it 
an  interesting  failure. 

UNCERTAIN     CERTAIN! 

THK    main   character   in   Glendc 
Swarthout's    novel    They    Came 
Cordura   (Random   House,  $3.50) 
a   man  who  is  all  too  tree  from  a 
question  about  his  own  identity,  h 
cause  he  knows  exactly  what  he 
he  is  a  coward. 

Swarthout's  novel  is  based  on  ; 
imagined  incident  in  the  adventui 
<>I  the  Punitive  Expedition  sent  in 
Mexico  in    1916  under  command 
General  Pershing  for  the  purpose 
capturing   Pancho  Villa.    The  Gej 
eral  is  sure  that  America  will  sool 
or    later    become    involved     in    t 
European   war,   and   he   knows   il 
the  Army  is  unprepared  to  meet  tj 
challenge.     One    way    to    make    t 
public  more  aware  of  the  army  a 
1 1 lore  enthusiastic  about  it  is  to'» 
duce  some  heroes,  and  so  he  appoi 
an  Awards  Officer  to  watch  for  I 
amples    of   conspicuous    bravery, 
write  up  citations  for  the  Gongr 
sional  Medal  of  Honor,  and  to  lc 
the  potential  recipients  back  to  b 
camp  (because  he  thinks  live  her 
will  have  a  warmer  effect  on  the  p 
lie  imagination  than  dead  ones). 

Ironically,  the  post  of  Awa 
Officer  goes  to  one  Major  Thorn 
man  who  has  a  very  profound  i 
terest  in  bravery  because  he  has  h 
self  furnished  a  conspicuous  exam 
ol  its  lack.  He  had  reached  a  a 
fortable  middle  age  in  the  sen 
without  ever  having  been  in  acti 
then  in  an  early  engagement  of 
Mexican  campaign  he  encountc 
fire  for  the  first  time  and  disgra 
himself  by  cowardice.  Under 
mistaken  impression  that  his 
havior  was  little  known,  his  supe 
officers  decided  not  to  court-mar 
him,  and  so  he  is  available  for 
unsuitable  job  of  Awards  Office 

The  heart  of  the  book  lies  in 
account  of  how  Major  Thorn  1( 


The  Swivel  Chair 


Today  the  chair  recognizes  woman,  not 
women  of  our  own  day,  those  poor  creatures  fallen  to 
the  servitude  of  self-improvement,  those  toiling  spin- 
ning victims  of  gadgetry  and  the  subliminal  sell ;  but 
women  in  their  golden  age,  the  past. 

One  woman,  the  Countess  Bice  Melzi,  was 
the  inspiration  and  the  lovely  doom  of  IppolitO 
Nievo.  In  1860,  for  the  sake  of  rejoining  her  three 
days  sooner,  he  changed  his  passage  from  a  sound  ship 
to  the  ramshackle  Ercole.  He  was  lost  at  sea.  But  be- 
fore his  death,  at  30,  he  had  written  The  Castle  of 
Fratta,  ($5.50)  one  of  the  masterpieces  of  Italian 
literature,  the  imperishable  love  story  of  Pisana,  the 
woman  Bice  might  have  been.  Her  enchantment  and 
Nievo's  art  have  kindled  glory  in  the  critics'  pens: 

"The  adventurous  love  of  Carlo  and  Pisana, 
Countess  of  Fratta,  a  capricious,  and  tender,  courageous 
and  wanton  woman,  all  contradictions  and  whims, 
equally  capable  of  devotion  and  betrayal.  Had  Nievo 
created  only  this  superb  feminine  character,  perhaps 
unique  in  all  Italian  nineteenth-century  literature,  he 
would  deserve  a  place  of  honor  in  European  fiction  of 
the  romantic  era."  —  Marc  Slonim,  New  York  Times 

"It  is  the  exuberance  of  char- 
acter creation  (they  are  something  more 
than  sketches)  as  well  as  sheer  narrative 
brio  that  gives  the  book  its  vitality  .  .  . 
the  reader  of  any  generation  will  recog- 
nize an  authentic  and  gifted  novelist.  Nievo  has  never 
gone  out  of  style  in  Italy;  today,  perhaps  because  of 
the  contemporary  interest  in  the  novel,  he  is  more 
highly  esteemed  than  ever.  This  excellent  translation 
will,  I  think,  make  the  English-speaking  reader  under- 
stand why."  —  New  York  Herald  Tribune 

Geoffrey  Wagner  of  the  New  York  Post 
said,  "In  these  inspired  moments  Nievo's  romantic  gifts 
are  stiffened  by  satire,  while  his  marvelous  humanity 
serenely  illumines  the  two  great  love  stories  .  .  .  the 
Pisana  is  a  superbly  degenerate  creation,  a  sexual  in- 
riguer  and  'exquisite  mistress  of  lies'  by  the  age  of 
:leven,  whose  'abundance  of  life'  Carlo  yet  adores  and 
vvho  dies  transfigured  at  the  end,  just  as  sensual  Venice 
lies  in  the  new,  united  Italy  .  .  .  this  is  the  work  of  a 
$reat  soul,  a  memorable  novel  of  its  time,  whose  en- 
ightened  pages  anyone  can  add  to  his  library  with 
<   tr\  pride."    Maurice    Dolbier    of    the    New 

York  Herald  Tribune  said,  "A  grandly 
romantic   affair    .    .    .    the   wealthy    and 


doomed  society  of  Venice  .  .  .  realistic- 
ally handled  .  .  .  the  Pisana  —  flirta- 
tious, fickle,  proud,  and  yet  capable  of 
great  sacrifices  and  inexplicable  loyal- 
ties, unpredictable  and  enchanting,  one 
of  the  most  striking  feminine  characterizations  in 
nineteenth-century  literature." 

The  other  woman,  Bess  Winthrop,  steps 
straight  from  a  chapter  of  history  that 
has  been  curiously  warped  by  legend. 
The  Winthrop  family,  loudest  in  abnega- 
tion, were  the  predestined  leaders  of  the 
Massachusetts  Bay  Colony  in  its  earliest  decades.  To  a 
harsh  primitive  land  they  came  still  cloaked  in  the 
elegance  that  Jacobean  England  had  allowed  a  favored 
few.  They  brought  to  the  rigid  simple  problems  of 
survival  a  subtlety  of  thought  and  grace  of  learning 
that  had  distinguished  them  in  Shakespeare's  eloquent 
London.  Bess  Winthrop,  young  widow  of  the  brother 
of  the  man  she  loved,  unregenerate  niece  of  the  Gover- 
nor, moved  through  this  age  of  paradox  in  an  ardor  of 
rebellion  against  the  chilling  sense  of  exile,  the  narrow- 
ing confines  of  an  implacable  church.  To  her  the  In- 
dians were  enigma  not  threat.  Anne  Hutchinson's  peril 
was  a  challenge,  divorce  from  an  unloved  husband  was 
only  temporary  trial.  This  was  a  woman  for  the  new 
world,  equal  to  its  rigors,  responsive  to  its  flaunted 
beauty,  triumphant  in  a  love  at  last  secured  in  marriage. 

The  Winthrop  Woman,  ($4.95)  the 

novel  that  is  her  story,  is  to  be  published  late  in  Feb- 
ruary. What  she  will  inspire  in  reviewing  circles  may 

be    adumbrated   from   the   reception   given   to   Anya 

Setoil  S  most  recent  novel,  Katherine. 

"For  my  money,  this  intricate  and  amazing 
story,  with  its  keen  analyses  of  human  character  ...  is 
one  of  the  best  pieces  of  historical  fiction,  not  merely 
of  1954,  but  of  the  past  half  dozen  years  .  .  .  Like  the 
new  technique  of  Cinemascope,  it  has  depth  as  well  as 
color  and  elan."  —  The  Saturday  Review 

"From  first  to  last  you  will  find  a  pageant 
remarkably  combining  splendor  and  honesty,  enjoy- 
ment and  learning."  —  New  York  Herald  Tribune 

And  from  this  early,  womanly  response  to 
The    Winthrop    Woman:    "I    am    awe- 
struck by  the  combination  she  shows  of 
painstaking  and   thorough  research  and 
of  imagination.  It's  a  great  triumph  ..."  _^~— X 

—  Louise  Andrews  Kent 


Houghton  Mifflin  Company,  Publishers 


S8 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


mLom 


The  story  of  a  proud 
New  England  whaling  captain 

and  the  strange  secret  he 

bequeathed  to  three  generations 

of  his  heirs. 


THE 


New  Englantl 
Story 

By  Henry  Beetle  Hough 


$3.95 


Dictionary  of 

Contemporary 

American 

Usage 

By  Bergen  Evans 
and  Cornelia  Evans 

"One  of  the  wittiest,  most  entertaining 
and  instructive  books  of  the  year.  An 
indispensable  reference  work." 

—  CLEVELAND  NEWS  $5.95 


The  American 

College 

Dictionary 

The  last  word  in  desk  dictionaries— finest, 
most  up-to-date.  Available  in  a  choice 
of  fine  bindings  from  $5.00. 

Now  at  your  bookstore  RANDOM  HOUSE 


his  group  of  five  hand-picked  heroes 
back  to  the  base  camp  al  Cordura, 
,iiul  Swarthout's  success  lies  in  mak- 
ing the  incredibly  exhausting  jour- 
ney Kin. ii  k.ihl\  i  eal  .mil  \  ivid  in  all 
its  physu  al  detail,  and  al  the  same 
nine  making  ii  a  journe)  ol  ps\<  ho- 
logi<  al  exploration.  Majoi  Thoi  n  is 
a  simple,  humble  man,  read)  to  ac-' 
cept  the  verdh  i  ol  liis  own  actions 
about  what  he  is:  he  genuinely  be- 
lieves thai  men  who  have  performed 
bravt  deeds  in  batik'  are  bettei  than 

he  is.  and  in  spile  ol  all  the  sell  seek- 
ill",  brutality,  whining,  and  mean- 
ness the  men  reveal  nuclei  the  hard- 
ships ol  the  trip,  he  never  surrenders 
his  conviction  that  they  have  a 
quality  he  la<  ks.  I  he  irony  of  the 
situation  sounds  a  little  too  eas) 
when  it  is  set  down  in  summary,  but 
in  the  book  it  comes  off:  Major 
Thorn,  by  accepting  what  he  is,  be- 
comes something  better,  and  emerges 
unknowing!)  as  the  must  man  of 
the  lot. 

They  Came  to  Cordura  is  very 
much  a  man's  book.  It  will  appeal 
to  readers  who  enjoy  A.  B.  Guthrie's 
hooks,  oi  such  a  novel  as  The  Ox 
How  Incident.  The  action  is  excit- 
ing and  the  development  ol  the 
theme  convincing.  It  is  one  of  the 
few  novels  I  have  read  recentl)  of 
which  it  could  be  said  with  no  dis- 
paraging intent  that  it  could  be 
made  into  an  excellent  motion  pic- 
ture. 

C.  P.  SNOW'S  new  novel,  The 
Conscience   of    the   Rich    (Scribner, 

$3.95),  is  a  study  of  a  family  in 
process  of  change,  a  chant;,'  not  so 
much  in  the  identity  ol  the  indi- 
vidual members  as  in  what  they 
identify  themselves  with. 

Snow  portrays  a  London  Jewish 
famil)  named  March.  The  March 
family  had  been  prosperous  even  be- 
fore it  came  from  Holland  to  Eng- 
land in  the  eighteenth  century,  and 
in  the  years  since  it  has  become  very 
comfortable  though  not  enormously 
rich.  From  the  family  have  come  im- 
portant figures  in  finance  and  in 
government  service,  but  the  center  of 
its  life  has  been  the  family  itself. 
The  Marches  visit  and  intermarry 
with  other  Jewish  families  in  similar 
financial  and  social  circumstances, 
but  their  lives  center  on  lavish  en- 
tertainment of  one  another  in  their 
own  houses,  and  on  the  gossip  and 


1 1\. ihies  and  births,  marriages,  an 
de. nhs  ol  their  many  relatives. 

The  Man  Ins  hardly  think  < 
themselvi  s  as  Jews— the)  are  E  nglai 
b)  nationalit)  and  Jewish  l>\  r 
ligion,    and    i he  ii    religion    is    litt 

on  ih. in  a  rout ine  obsei \ ation  ( 
those  p. n  is  ol  the  [ewish  Law  th; 
are  most  easil)  complied  with;  tl 
efforts  ol  an  eccentric  relative  I 
carr)  things  a  little  further  is  looke 
upon      as      an      occasion      loi      goffl 

humored  joking.  Yel  slight  as  the 
connection  with  Judaism  is,  it  neve 
theless  has  been  enough  to  keep  tl 
Marches  somewhat  apart  from  tl 
( ientile  world  around  them. 

Tin  Conscience  of  the  Riili  cove' 
the  period  from  1927  till  the  eve  « 
the  second  world  war,  a  period  i 
which  the  rise  ol  Hitler  gave  tl 
facl  of  being  Jewish  a  good  de. 
more  importance  than  the  oleic 
Matches  had  been  accustomed  I 
grant  it,  and  the  younger  March 
are  no  longer  willing  or  able  to  ids 
iil\  themselves  simply  and  whol 
with  the  family  foi  nines.  The)  el 
velop  a  social  conscience  whic 
wisely  or  not,  sometimes  compe 
them  to  take  a  stand  that  rui 
counter  to  the  family's  interest.  Tl 
crucial  situation  in  the  book  d 
velops  when  a  member  oi  tl 
younger  generation— a  devoted  Coi 
iniinist  who  is  convinced  that  tl 
ministry  of  appeasement  in  power  i 
England  in  the  late  'thirties  must  1 
destroyed  at  any  price— refuses  » 
stop  the  publication  of  material  th. 
will  discredit  that  government  < 
though  its  publication  will  also  b 
smirch  the  reputation  and  destr 
the  career  of  an  older  member 
the  family. 

The  Conscience  of  the  Rich  is  a 
other  installment  in  the  extendi 
fictional  chronicle  of  Britain  sini' 
the  first  world  war  that  Snow  h 
been  writing  in  novel  after  novi 
Although  it  can  be  read  without  ai 
acquaintance  with  the  others,  it  su 
fers  certain  limitations  because  i 
its  place  in  the  series.  For  one  thin 
the  story  is  narrated,  as  the  stori 
in  all  the  books  are.  by  Lewis  Elio 
whose  relation  to  the  March  farm 
is  such  that  he  cannot  enter  ful 
into  the  motivation  of  at  least  or 
important  character.  For  anotln 
thing,  the  ending  of  the  story 
somewhat  inconclusive  and  ther 
fore  unsatisfactory;   it  suggests  th; 


Andre  Maurois,  author  of  Lelia  and  Olympio,  expands  his  gallery  of 

19th-century  portraits  in  THE  TITANS,  a  three-generation  biography 

of  the  three  Alexandre  Dumas — the  mulatto  general,  the  world-famous 

novelist,  the  smash-hit  playwright.  Illustrated.     $5.95 


■f 


Every  reader  can  look  forward  ^h^-?  to  hours  of  enjoyment  with  TIME  AND 
THE  HOUR,  a  long,  ^^swift-moving,  richly  peopled  novel  by  the 
author  of  The  Houses  Js  g/n  Between,  Howard  Spring.     $4.50 


AMERICAN  ACES  In  Great  Fighter  Battles  of 
World  War  II  is  the  almost  unbearably  exciting , 
pilot  against  pilot,  plane  against  plane.  By  Edward 
by  General  Nathan  F.  Twining. 


chronicle  of 
H.  Sims,  with  a  foreword 
-  Illustrated.     $3.95 


Joyce  Cary's 
The  Horse's 


I  superlative  trilogy  —  Herself  Surprised,  To  Be  a  Pilgrim,  and 
Mouth — is  now  available  in  one  volume  as  FIRST  TRILOGY. 

960  pages.     $4.95 


In  THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  LUCKY  DRAGON  Ralph  Lapp  tells 
the  story  of  the  Japanese  fishermen    l  Jwno  ran  into  a  cloud  of  "dust"  in  the  far 
Pacific — and  whose  fate  may:^ijp§£-  change  the  world.  Foreword  by 
Pearl  S.  Buck.  Illustrated.     $3.50 


The  amazing  love  affair  between  the  paramount  genius  of  18th  century 

France  and  a  high-spirited  marquise  is  recounted  in  VOLTAIRE 
IN  LOVE  by  Nancy  Mitford,  biographer  of  Madame  de  Pompadour 

Illustrated.     $5.00 


<A  SOLDIER  WITH  THE  ARABS  by  Lt.  General  Sir  John  Bagot  Glubb  is  an  explosive 
book  that  will  generate  explosive  controversy.  Glubb  Pasha,  former  Commander 
of  Jordan's  famous  Arab  Legion,  offers  an  inside  view  of  what  is  happening,  and  is 
likely  to  happen,  in  the  Middle  East.  Illustrated.     $6.00 


4AGGIE-NOW   is  the  wonderful  heroine 
set  in  the  wonderful  world  of 


m 


of  Betty  Smith's  new  novel 

A  Tree  Grows  in  Brooklyn.     $4.00 


RUSSIA, 

k  individual 
ta  author  is 
•  bassador 


THE  ATOM  AND  THE  WEST  by  George  F.  Kennan  will  challenge 
consciences  of  its  readers  as  well  as  the  governments  representing  them, 
former  Chief  of  the  State  Department  Policy  Planning  Staff  and 
to  Russia,  whose  Russia  Leaves  the  War  won  the  Pulitzer  Prize.     $2.50 


AT  ALL  BOOKSTORES 


\\(U^Q^l^hjoiWiA 


100 


ONS 


Questions— the  right  questions— can  be  of 
crucial  importance.  And  each  issue  of  The 
American  Scholar  raises  new  and  vital 
questions. 

Questions  in  the  Spring  Issue 


THE     X  E  W     BOOK  S 


O 


What  changes  must  take  place  in  American 
attitudes  if   communism   is   to   be   contested 
effectively  ? 
The  Devil  and  Soviet  Russia 

by   HAROLD    J.   BERMAN 


o 


Is  Germany  shifting  from   anti-Semitism   to 

philo-Semitism  ? 

Germany's    New     Flagellants 

by      ALFRED  WERNLR 
MARGARET    MEAD,    in    reply    to    DR.    WERNER, 

discusses   the  German   attitude  toward   in- 
dividual and  collective  responsibility. 


o 


Is  the  contemporary  trend  toward  conformity 
as  harmful  as  it  is  often  portrayed? 

Comfort  and  Fun  by  daniel  lerner 


Q 


Would    the    development    of  an    aristocracy 
destroy  American  democracy  or  revive  Ameri- 
can culture  ? 
Nobility   and   the  United  States 

by  oscar  mandel 

Special  Introductory  Offer 
Spring  Issue 


FREE 


The  new  Spring  issue  will  be 
sent  free  with  each  subscription 
to  The  American  Scholar  en- 
tered now.  Don't  delay.  Order 
your  copy  immediately. 


The  American  Scholar  Dept.  D6 

181  I  Q  Street,  N.W.  Washington  9,  D.  C. 

Please  send  me  the  Spring  1958  issue  without 

charge  and  enter  my  subscription  for  the  term 

checked. 

D  Vl  year  $2    D  1  year  $4    D  2  years  $7 

D3  years  $9   □  payment  enclosed    D  please  bill 

Name 

Address 

City Zone State 


the    Eortunes   of    the    Mar<  li    family 
will  be  followed  in  another  book. 

Yel  .i  new  imv  (  I  l>\  ( !.  P.  Snow 
(who,  l>\  the  way,  is  now  Sii  Charles) 
is  always  .i  delight.  1  lis  vigorous  and 
penetrating  characterization,  his  fine 
intelligence,  and  his  stipple,  tranquil 
prose  give  all  his  hooks  distinction. 

BROOKL1 N     REVISITED 

BETTY  SMITH'S  new 
hook.  In  1  second  since  the  im- 
mensel)  popular  A  Tree  Grows  in 
Brooklyn,  is  Maggie-Xow  (Harper, 
S-l).  li  is  a  work  ol  modes!  literary 
merit,  but  it  has  sufficient  human  in- 
teresl  to  provide  harmless  diversion 
to  many  readers,  espec  iallv  to  women 
who  are  of  the  private  opinion  that 
the)  are  superior  to  the  men  whom 
fate  has  sent  their  way. 

I  he  hook  opens  with  the  heroine's 
l.iilui  still  a  bachelor  hack  in 
County  Kilkenny  (he  is  the  kind 
ol  spunky,  bad-tempered  bantam- 
rooster  Irishman  who  in  the  movies 
is  usually  played  better  than  he  de- 
serves to  be  by  Barry  Fitzgerald).  It 
takes  a  good  many  pages  to  get  him 
maneuvered  to  Brooklyn  and  mar- 
ried to  the  daughter  ol  a  Tammany 
ward-heeler,  and  even  more  pages  to 
gel  their  daughter  born,  saddled 
with  the  unfortunate  nickname  of 
Maggie-Now,  and  grown  tip  to  the 
point  where  something  interesting 
might  happen  to  her.  But  after  a 
while  it  becomes  apparent  that 
nothing  is  going  to  happen  to  her, 
..I  least  not  anything  worthy  of  her 
mettle.  She  develops  into  a  long-suf- 
fering woman  of  strong  character 
who  endures  without  complaint  the 
misfortunes  and  deprivations  that 
come  her  way  in  considerable  quan- 
tity. None  of  the  men  in  her  life  is 
really  worthy  of  her,  not  her  impos- 
sible father,  or  the  younger  brother 
she  rears  after  their  mother's  death. 
or  the  pleasant  plumber  she  nearly 
marries,  or  the  charming  ne'er-do- 
wel) she  does  marry,  but  she  loyally 
stands  by  them  all  as  long  as  they 
need  her.  In  the  end,  because  of  a 
final  act  of  self-sacrifice,  she  is  left 
alone  in  the  little  house  in  Brooklyn 
where  she  has  always  lived,  still 
dreaming  that  her  life  may  be  ful- 
filled as  it  never  has  been. 

Miss  Smith  manages  to  get  more 
feeling  into  this  not  very  dramatic 
narrative  than  would  seem  probable, 


w   I 


and    she    enlivens    he)    sioiv 
good  deal   of  diverting  detail  J 
the  hie  ol   the  puoi    in    lirookh 
the    years    between    the    turn   oj 
cc  nun  v   and  the  second  world  w|j 

The  Joy  Wagon  l>\  Arthur  T. 
I<\  (Viking,  |3.50)  is  a  satirical 
lasv  about  American  politic 
a<  <  mini  ol  how  an  elec  ironic  cal 
toi,  known  to  his  millions  a 
riircis  as  Mike  Microvac  .  was  t 
nated  and  campaigned  lor  the 
ol  President  ol  the  United  Stale 

Probably  ii  is  impossible  I 
mac  hine  in  itsell  to  be  funny,  th 
what  human  beings  do  with! 
chines  (or  try  to  get  machines  f 
for  them)  can  be.  What  we  lauj 
in  Rube  Goldberg's  elaborate' 
traptions,  for  instance,  is  not  tin 
chines  themselves  but  the  r] 
pathetic  amount  ol  human  ingia 
that  has  been  wasted  in  their  laf 
lion.  The  joke  is  not  on  the 
chine  but  on  its  maker,  becati 
obviously  would  have  been  easi 
do  the  job  by  hand  than  to  I 
a  machine  to  do  it. 

So   Hadley's  satire   is   usually 
cessful  when  the  politicians  are  j 
the   machine    to   achieve    their  I 
ends,  but  the  results  are  some 
else  again   when    the  machine  I 
to  use  the  politicians.    Such  an 
might     be     made     frightening, 
Hadley  is  not  writing  the  Erai 
stein  kind  of  bc^ok,  and  consequ 
it  just  seems  rather  stupidly  ini] 
able.     At    present    the    danger 
machines  will  usurp  political  le 
ship  does  not  seem  very  ininiec 
but   the  clanger  is  a  good  deal 
real  that  human  political  leade 
will    he    impoverished    by   an 
reliance  on  a  mechanical,  statis] 
Gallup  Poll  approach  to  decisi 

Fortunately  Hadley  has 
rounded  his  electronic  polit 
with  a  group  of  (all  too)  human 
ticians,  who  are  drawn  from  e\ 
ence  and  in  some  instances  po> 
from  acquaintance.  The)  hel 
keep  the  satire  down-to-earth 
supply  some  unsubtle  but  gen 
comedy. 

RECENT     NON-FICTI 

READERS  who  are  inter 
in     the    career    and    worf 
fames   Joyce  will  welcome  the 
lication  of  a  memoir  of  his  hoy1 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 

md  youth  in  Dublin  by  his  late 
nother  Stanislaus  Joyce,  My  Broth- 
er's Keeper  (Viking,  $5).  It  is  a 
ather  curious  book,  as  accounts  of 
he  great  by  their  relatives  are  likely 
o  be.  Some  of  it  is  rather  trivial,  as 
vhen  Stanislaus  addresses  himself  to 
he  subject  of  exactly  how  frightened 
>f  thunderstorms  his  brother  really 
vas  (a)  as  a  child  and  (b)  as  an  adult, 
ogether  with  a  refutation  of  inaccu- 
ate  statements  on  this  subject  by 
mother  writer.  A  good  deal  of  the 
naterial  is  of  value  chiefly  to  annota- 
ors  and  will  ultimately  find  its  way 
nto  footnotes  to  Joyce's  work. 

But  beneath  the  surface  suitable 
or  scholarly  stripmining,   the  book 
eveals  a  psychological  situation   of 
ome   interest.    Since  James    Joyce's 
alent  was  recognized  very  early  by 
lis    parents    and    other    associates, 
tanislaus  grew  up  in  the  know  ledge 
hat  his  older  brother  was  a  genius 
nd  that  he  was  not.    He  developed 
le  qualities  of  one  who  feels  that  he 
s  not  highly  valued  and  does  not 
are   to  call   attention   to  his  short- 
enings: he  was  sensible  and  sober, 
jgular     and    hard-working.      In     a 
ousehold    as    impractical    and    im- 
rovident  as  the  Joyces',  these  quali- 
es  were  rare  as  money,   and   their 
ossessor     obviously     should     have 
nerged,  like  the  disregarded  young- 
t  sibling  in  the  fairy  tales,  as  the 
^ro   of   the   family   chronicle.    But 
jetic  justice  often  fails:   the  proud 
id  headstrong  family  genius  really 
as  a  genius,  and  Cinderella's  gifts 
ally  were  best  employed  in  taking 
re  of  the  heating  arrangements. 
So  Stanislaus'  attitude  toward  his 
other  seems  to  have  been   uncer- 
inly  balanced  between  the  feeling 
at  James   was   not  so   remarkable 
ter  all  (since  he  made  a  messier  job 
daily  life  than  Stanislaus  did)  and 
e  feeling   that  he  was  so  remark- 
le  that  no  one  else  could  be  ex- 
cted  to  measure  up  to  him.   In  My 
othefs  Keeper  the   latter   feeling 
ually  triumphs.  For  instance,  Stan- 
Jus  repeatedly  mentions  that  as  a 
ung    man    his    brother    was    very 
ndsome,     information     that     will 
ne  as  something  of  a  surprise  to 
)se  who  are  familiar  with  photo- 
,jhs  of  James  Joyce  taken  in   the 
~iod.   What  the  remarks  probably 
an  is  that  James  was  better  look- 
;  than  Stanislaus,  and  if  one  is  not 
:  family  beauty  then  it  is  comfort- 


THE  WORLD'S  GREATEST 
INFORMATION    CENTER 

in  yoirr  own  liortie . . .  for  oniy^  39  so 


Thousands  of  families  like  yours  value 
Webster's  New  International  Dictionary, 
Second  Edition,  as  the  great  question 
answerer,  an  "information  center"  so 
informative  and  intriguing  that  someone 
in  the  family  turns  to  it  every  day.  In 
this  one  volume,  there  is  accurate  in- 
formation on  literally  every  subject 
known  to  man.  It  equals  in  printed 
material  an  I8-volume  encyclopedia  — 
always  open  and  inviting  use,  rather 
than  buried  in  a  bookcase. 

As  your  family  develops  the  "look  it  up" 
habit,  their  daily  questions  will  be 
answered  accurately,  for  the  New  Inter- 
national  is    relied    on   by   schools    and 


libraries  as  "the  Supreme  Authority"  of 
the  English-speaking  world. 

Examine  this  famous  Merriam-Webster 
at  your  department,  book,  or  stationery 
store.  Its  3,350  pages  (more  than  600,- 
000  entries ! )  will  convince  you  that 
here  is  a  wonderful  investment  for  your 
family  and  yourself. 

WARNING:  Webster's  New  Interna- 
tional Dictionary  is  never  available  as 
a  premium  in  any  "free"  offers.  Always 
look  for  the  Merriam-W ebster  trade- 
mark to  protect  yourself  from  inferior 
substitutes.  G.  &  C.  Merriam  Co.,  Spring- 
field 2,  Mass. 


INSIST    ON 

MERRIAM- 
WEBSTER 

•    •    • 

Webster's  New  Collegiate  Dictionary 
($5  and  up)  is  the  only  desk  dictionary 
based  on  the  New  International.  It  is  the 
dictionary  required  or  recommended  by 
nearly  all  schools  and  colleges. 


102 


Literature 

FO„R>tlSTENING 


16  rpm 

Audio  Book 
Recordings 


SPECIALOFFER! 

$12.95  'LISTENERS  LIBRARY' 

JUST  $9.95! 

•  The  Trial  of  Socrates  read  by  award- 
winner  Thomas  Mitchell.  Text  foreword  by 
Robert  M.  Hutchins. 

•  Complete  Sonnets  of  William  Shake- 
speare read  by  Ronald  Colman.  Sensitive 
.  .  .  moving  .  .  .  magnificent. 

•  Famous  Poems  read  by  Marvin  Miller. 
Seventy-four  best-loved  poems,  including 
the  complete  Rubaiyat  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

YOU  GET  ALL  THREE  ALBUMS  — 

10  AUDIO  BOOK  16  rpm  RECORDS 
—  AT  THIS  SPECIAL  PRICE.  Offei 

limited.  Sec  your  dealer  NOW  or  write! 

AUDIO  BOOK  COMPANY 


George 
F.  Kennan 

THE  DECISION 
TO  INTERVENE 

VOL.  II  OF  SOVIET-AMERICAN 

RELATIONS,    1917-1920 

In  1918  the  U.  S.  and  the  Allies 
decided  to  intervene  in  the 
Soviet  Revolution.  This  story  of 
Soviet-American  relations  dur- 
ing that  tense  year  is  an  exciting 
sequel  to  Mr.  Kennan's  Pulitzer 
Prize  winner,  RUSSIA  leaves 
the  war.  Illus.,  520  pages.  S7.50 

Order  from  your  bookseller 

PRINCETON  Un£!"ity 


THE  AMERICAN 
EARTHQUAKE 

A  vivid,  personal  (and  controversial)  col- 
lection of  his  observations  and  impres- 
sions of  the  American  social  and  political 
scene  during  the  Jazz  Age,  the  Depres- 
sion, and  the  New  Deal. 

576  Pages,  Cloth  Bound,  56  00 
A  DOUBLEDAY  ANCHOR  BOOK 


All 


your 
ckly 


..<,. 


list    of 


St   pr 


nts. 


back 


obligate 


We 


eport 


We  also  supply  all  ntrrent  books  at  retail  store  prices 
— Postpaid,  as  well  as  all  books  reviewed,  advertised 
or  listed  in  this  issue  at  Harper's  Magazine.) 

AMERICAN   LIBRARY   SERVICE 

117    West    48th    Street.    Dept.    H.    New    York    36.     N.    Y 
SB.    We    also    BUY    books    and    magazines. 


French  &  Italian  Magazines 

Subscriptions  Wholesale 
European  Publishers    •    Italian  Publishers 

1007  TIMES  TOWER  •  NEW  YORK  36 
Retail  dealerships  in  U.S.A.  open 


McGUFFEY'S    READERS 

After  a  long  and  costly  search  a  complete 
set  of  the  original  1879  McGuffey's  Readers 
has  finally  been  located,  and  reprints  of  these 
grand  old  readers  have  now  been  completed. 
Exact  copies  of  these  famous  readers  are  now 
available.  Write  for  circulars  and  prices. 
Old    Authors,    Dept.    HA-3,  Rowan,    Iowa 


aMM 


National  Library  Week 
March  16-22,  1958 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 

ing  to  think  that  the  famil)   beam 
is  vei  \  beautiful  indeed. 

It  is  too  I). id  thai  Stanislaus  foyq 
died  before  he  had  broughi  his  nai 
rative  down  to  the  years  whin  h 
and  his  brothei  both  lived  in  I  i  test 
(and  whin,  according  to  the  exce 
Kin  introduction  by  Richard  1.1 
.liann.  he  really  was  al  time  "hi 
brother's  keepei ")  hut  it  is  interea 
ing   and   valuable  as   it   st.mds. 

less  Than  Kin  by  William  Clar 
(Houghton  Mifflin,  $3.50)  cordj 
i  lose  to  being  anothei  account  <i 
sibling  rivalry,  since  it  is  a  study  ol 
relations  between  England  ana 
America.  Clark  believes  that  com 
petition  between  the  two  count™ 
lias  been  health)  and  continues  to  a 
desirable  as  long  as  both  side 
realize  that  it  is  all  in  the  family. 

What  CI. nk  endeavors  to  do  is  t< 
sketih  the  image  each  country  ha 
entertained  ol  the  other,  and  to  .shov 
how  thai  image  has  influence 
events.  Foi  a  long  time,  as  he  sees  it 
America  was  the  younger  anc 
weaker,  trying  desperately  to  impra 
the  older  nation,  whose  attention 
very  often,  was  elsewhere.  A  signifi 
canl  change  came  at  the  end  of  th 
Civil  War,  when  Punch,  alter  havinj 
caricatured  Lincoln  as  an  ape,  pub 
lished  an  apologetic  poem  when  Ik 
was  assassin  iied,  and  "Britain's  up 
per  and  middle  (lass  acknowledger. 
thai  they  had  been  mistaken  in  theii 
judgmenl  ol  the  New  World." 

Now  the  younger  nation  has  out 
stripped  its  elder,  and  Clark,  who; 
has  lived  on  both  sides  of  the  At 
lantic,  has  some  sensible  things  td 
s:i\  about  how  both  should  behave 
Although  readers  who  have  given 
some  attention  to  Anglo-AmeriqS 
relations  may  not  find  that  Les:, 
Than  Kin  advances  their  knowledge 
very  much,  it  is  a  succinct,  dear,  anc 
intelligent  attempt  to  put  the  era 
rent  uneasiness  between  the  twe 
countries  in  its  historical  setting. 

GAVIN  MAX  W  ELL'  S  People 
of  the  Reeds  (Harper,  $4.50)  is  a  las 
cirrating  account  of  some  months  the 
author  spent  among  the  Arabs  ol 
southern  Iraq.  These  people  live 
in  the  marshes  built  up  (though 
some  would  think  not  sufficients 
built  up  for  human  habitation)  at 
the  outlet  of  the  Tigris  and  Eu- 
phrates rivers.  They  were  practically 


THE  RELIGIONS  OF  MAN 

By  HUSTON  SMITH.  A  popular  teacher  unfolds  an 
objective  description  of  the  major  religions  and 
shows  how  and  why  each  appeals  to  its  adherents. 
Christianity,  Buddhism,  Hinduism,  Islam,  Juda- 
ism, and  Taoism  are  considered  in  detail.  A  book 
of  special  value  to  Americans  who  meet  in  polit- 
ical, diplomatic,  and  social  relations  the  repre- 
sentatives of  other  cultures.  $5.00 


THE  MIND  OF 
ALEXANDER  HAMILTON 

Edited  and  with  an  introduction  by  SAUL 
K.  PADOVER.  One  of  the  greatest  of  the 
Founding  Fathers  revealed  in  his  own 
words.  Selections  from  Hamilton's  pub- 
lic and  private  papers  are  testaments 
to  his  vitally  conservative  political  phi- 
losophy and  demonstrate  his  remark- 
able intellect.  Dr.  Padover's  introduc- 
tion is  a  brilliant  biographical  vignette 
which  gives  fresh  insight  into  Hamil- 
ton's career  and  his  complex  charac- 
ter. $6.50 


RESPONSIBILITY  IN 
MASS  COMMUNICATION 

By  WILBUR  SCHRAMM.  A  timely  examination  of  the 
need  for  a  reaffirmation  of  the  social  responsibilities 
and  ethical  standards  of  mass  media.  The  author 
draws  upon  many  years  of  experience  in  the  field  to 
provide  guideposts  for  those  directly  concerned  —  in 
government,  in  publishing  and  advertising,  and  in 
radio,  television,  and  the  movie  industry.  $4.50 


THE  IDEAL  AND  THE  COMMUNITY 


By 


A  Philosophy  of  Education 
B.    BERKSON.    A    lifelong   student    of   John 


Dewey  and  William  H.  Kilpatrick  offers  an  inter- 
pretation of  the  purpose  of  education  that  goes 
beyond  their  experimentalist  position.  "Anyone 
striving  to  move  educational  philosophy  off  the 
dead  center  of  the  present  impasse  will  certainly 
have  to  take  this  new  book  into  account." — John 
S.  Brubacher,  Yale  University.  $4.50 


BEYOND  FREUD 

A  Creative  Approach  to  Mental  Health 
By  CAMILLA  M.  ANDERSON,  M.D.  A  leading 
psychiatrist  discusses  the  biological  and 
emotional  factors  that  shape  personality; 
the  problems  connected  with  emotional  dis- 
turbance; the  current  forms  of  therapy  and 
their  usefulness  in  treating  different  types 
of  emotional  illness;  a  provocative  new 
approach  to  two  great  human  concerns  — 
religion  and  psychiatry.  Beyond  Freud 
will  be  a  guide  for  everyone  who  seeks  a 
fuller  understanding  of  why  people  behave 
as  they  do.  $4.00 


CHANGING  VALUES  IN  COLLEGE 

in  Exploratory  Study  of  the  Impact  of  College  Teaching 

By  PHILIP  E.  JACOB.  A  serious  indictment  of  to- 
day's college  teaching  —  based  on  a  study  that 
sought  to  determine  the  effects  of  general  educa- 
tion in  the  social  sciences  on  student  beliefs  and 
values.  The  results  give  clear  evidence  that 
courses  thought  to  be  of  special  significance  in 
altering  students'  values  are  of  only  slight  influ- 
ence. A  critical  diagnosis  of  the  shortcomings  of 
present  college  instruction  and  a  constructive 
foundation  for  improvement.  $3.50 


STRENGTHENING  THE 
UNITED  NATIONS 

By  THE  COMMISSION  TO  STUDY  THE  ORGANI- 
ZATION OF  PEACE,  Arthur  N.  Holcombe,  Chair- 
man. The  most  up-to-date  book  on  the  sub- 
ject. "The  most  promising  work  on  this 
vital  subject  that  has  appeared  to  date  .  .  . 
deserves  sober  study  by  all  who  share  the 
quest  for  lasting  peace  . . .  the  kind  of  grad- 
ual, step-by-step  improvement  that  the  UN 
needs." — Saturday  Review.  $4.00 


WITH  ALL  DELIBERATE  SPEED 

Segregation-Desegregation  in  Southern  Schools 

Edited  by  DON  SHOEMAKER.  The  full  story  of  desegregation  in 
the  South  by  a  group  of  able  writers  whose  single  aim  is  to 
measure  objectively  the  degree  of  compliance  or  non-compli- 
ance with  the  Supreme  Court's  1954  constitutional  decree.  "An 
excellent,  dispassionate  wrap-up  of  our  intensifying  crisis." 
— N.  Y.  Times  Book  Review.     $3.50 


104 

How  to  achieve  a  youthful 
body  and  vibrant  health — 
without  tiring  exercises 
in  just  ten  minutes  a  day! 

LOOK  BETTER, 
FEEL  BETTER 

By  Bess  M.  Mensendieck,  M.D. 

Foreword  by  Paul  B.  Magnuson,  M.D. 

Chairman  of  the  President's  Committee  on 
the   Health    Needs  of  the   Nation 

Glori;i  S  «  a  n  son.  Fredric  March, 
Jascha  Heifitz,  [ngrid  Bergman  and 
iiuiiiy  oilier  notables  have  benefited 
from  and  enthusiastically  endorse  The 
World  Famous  Mensendieck  System 
of   Functional   Movements. 

Now,  you  too,  can  enjoy  the  advan- 
tages of  this  amazing,  natural  health 
method  available  for  the  first  time  in 
simple,  popular  form.  In  your  own 
home  without  equipment,  you  can 
banish  fatigue,  sparkle  with  new  vital- 
ity, and  add  new  grace  and  beant]  to 
your  body.  AND  you  can  accomplish 
all  this  and  much,  much  more  in  only 
111  minutes  a   day. 

Easy-to-follow    drawings    and 
instructions  show  you  how   .   .  . 

Step-by-step  functional  movements 
scientifically  designed  to  revitalize  spe- 
cific muscles  and  joints — help  you  to 
end  backaches  .  .  ■  flatten  the  abdomen 
.  .  .  take  inches  off  hips  anil  waist  .  .  . 
correct  aching  feel  .  .  .  banish  double 
chin  .  .  .  tune  up  chest  muscles  .  .  . 
relieve  fatigue  and  nervous  tension. 

■ 
Different   from    ordinary 

exercises   .   .   . 

The  Mensendieck  system  is  wholly 
different  from  ordinary  exercises.  The 
exertion  and  perspiration  required  in 
"exercising"  are  totally  absent.  Even 
those  afflicted  with  heart  ailments  can 
safely  benefit  from  the  mild  graduated 
movements  included  in  LOOK  BET- 
TER, FEEL  BETTER.  Here  is  your 
guide  to  a  happy  life,  a  constant  sense 
of  well-being,  and  freedom  from  the 
laxness  imposed  by  modern-day  living. 

Ten   Days'   FREE   Examination  — 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

51  East  33rd  St..  New  York    16 

Gentlemen  :  Please  send  me  LOOK  BETTER, 
FEEL  BETTER,  for  ten  days'  free  examina- 
tion. Within  that  time  I  will  remit  SVSo 
plus  a  few  cents  mailing  charges,  or  return 
the   book. 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


unknown  before  1950,  and  even  now 
i  lie  enlightened  Iraq  government  has 
lefl  their  feudal  societ)  largely  un- 
disturbed. Maxwell  thinks  thai  thev 
cannot  withstand  modernization 
much  longer,  and  lie  has  written  a 
Imc  act  ouni  ol  what  their  am  ienl 
si\  le  ol   life  was  like  while  it   lasted. 

I  he  basis  ol  t licit  ec ononv)  is  the 
watei  buffalo,  a  lugubrious,  charm- 
less beasl  hut  a  steady  produce]  ol 
milk  and  dung  (the  only  fuel  ol  the 
people  ol  the  reeds).  The  people  are 

hard  shelled  Muslims,  sullci  ing  all 
the  penalties  ol  their  religion,  such 
as  its  taboos  about  food,  while  en- 
joying  none  ol  its  comforts,  except, 
when  they  ran  afford  it.  polygamy. 
They  ate  utterly  without  feeling  lot 
animals,  though  they  are  lavish  to 
the  point  of  impoverishing  them- 
selves in  entertaining  human  stran- 
gers. The  onlv  an  they  have  broughl 
to  a  high  level  is  dancing,  and  ac- 
cording lo  Maxwell's  account  their 
dancing  must  be  very  fine. 

For  some  odd  reason  there  seems 
to  be  a  rule  that  hooks  about  Arabs 
are  always  good,  and  Maxwell's  hook 
is  no  exception.    Illustrations. 

JEFFERSON  hoped  that  the 
United  States  would  be  a  nation  of 
small  independent  property-holders, 
and     in    The    Capitalist    Manifesto 


i  Random  Mouse,  $3.75)  Louis 
Kelso  and  Mortimer  \dler  bring 
dream  up  to  date  l>\  en\  isionin] 
society  in  which  everyone  (w 
neat  l\  everyone)  would  hold  a  r 
little  piec  e  ol  c  apital.  The  ,n  gum 
behind  theii  \  ision  is  pai  i  ly  ino 
partly  economic,  partly  politi 
and  thoroughly  convincing,  ai  ic 
to  anyone  who  is  quite  willing 
put  his  hands  on  a  nice  little  pi 
ol  capital  il  someone  will  only 
him  how  to  do  it. 

Bui  regrettably  the  authors 
not  altogether  sine  how  the  c  api- 
ism  ol  the  proletariat  is  to  be  esi 
Iished.  The  income  tax,  which 
surely  now  one  of  the  chief  wayi 
redistributing  wealth,  thev  1 1  isj 
ol  in  a  page;  they  go  into  more] 
tail  on  some  points,  but  n( 
enough.  There  seems  to  he  li 
likelihood  thai  the  brave  new  J 
nomic  system  they  hope  for  will 
established,  but  the  need  for  brn 
en  ing  the  base  of  capital  holding] 
such  that  the  lew  practical  stigi 
lions  thev  make  should  not  b< 
nored. 

The  hook  repeats  tiresomely,  .1 
occasionally   the  style  blossoms 
such   flowers  of  rhetoric    as  "thisl 
(cious  gap  that  the  spiral  of  ii 
lion  breeds,"  but  the  ideas  are  cle^i 
set  forth. 


BOOKS 


in  brief 


KATIIERINE  GAUSS  JACKSON 


Name 
Address 
City     .  .  . 


Zone State. 


5102R 


SAVE!     If  you  enclose  payment,  we  will  pay  marl- 
ing charges.    Same  return  privilege. 


FICTION 

Young  Mr.  Keefe,  by  Stephen  Birm- 
ingham. 

The  heroes  of  England's  literary 
"angry  young  men"  know-  what  they 
want  or  what  they  are  angry  at.  Mr. 
Birmingham's  American  young  peo- 
ple in  this  remarkable  first  novel 
have  everything— money;  conven- 
tional, rich,  New  England  upbring- 
ing; Yale  or  Smith  for  colleges. 
When  the  book  opens  three  of  them 
from  this  background  have  been 
transplanted  by  their  jobs  to  San 
Francisco  and  Sacramento.  They  are 
literate  and  articulate  and  they  try 
tc    carry    on    their    Eastern    collegi- 


ate   gaiety    and    madness    as    bel 
but  the  magic  has  gone.   What  i 
reall)    feel    is   that   they  have  ni 
been    tested.     Their    literary    he 
had  World  War  I.    Their  older 
temporaries   had   World   War   111 
Korea.    This  generation   keeps 
ing   the   need   to   face   up   to  sc 
thing  even  if  they  have  to  invent 
something.     The    story    is    real 
tough  and  funny  and  gay  and  ( 
passionate   and    hopeful.     It    is    I 
well  written  and  as  narrative  is 
pletely  absorbing.  Some  of  the  sc 
—a   mountain    picnic,   a    party 
glass    penthouse    on    a    hill    in 
Francisco,    are    magnificent.     F 
picture  of  England's  new  young 


105 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

->om  at  the  Top,  for  America's, 
mng  Mr.  Keefe.  It  will  be  with 
u  for  days.        Little,  Brown,  $3.95 

ie  Marriage,  by  Mona  Williams. 
Another  novel  with  a  San  Fran- 
co-and-suburbs  setting.  It  is  the 
ry  of  a  possessive   marriage   that 

lasted  twenty  years,  but,  as  the 
vel  begins,  is  about  to  dissolve  be- 
ise  the  wife  has  at  last  rebelled, 
has  considerable  talent  as  a 
inter  and  now  that  her  children 

growing  up  she  wants  to  use  it 

fessionally.  When  her  husband 
uses  to  let  her,  she  divorces  him. 
her  new  working  life  she  meets 
d  falls  in  love  with  a  younger  man 
riginally  her  daughter's  beau  and 
ofessor  at  Stanford— and  in  the 
i  .  .  .  But  it  would  be  unfair  to 
e  the  plot  away.  This  is  a  read- 
e  book  with  much  wisdom  in  it, 
t  somehow  one  of  the  hardest 
ngs  to  make  convincing  in  fiction 
middle-aged  philandering.  One 
epts  the  fact  that  a  great  many  of 

troubles  in  our  society  are  caused 
ause  middle-aged  people  do  in- 
d  fall  in  love,  but  on  the  printed 
*e  it  takes  real  genius  to  make  it 

above  the  ridiculous.  As  one  of 
s.  Williams'  hard-boiled  charac- 
s  says:  "Oh,  love!  The  very  word 
ells  of  buttered  popcorn."  And 
n  in  this  novel  one  has  difficulty 
a  in  accepting  as  valid  the  wife's 
son  for  having  been  such  a  pris- 
?r  for  twenty  years.  Yet  these  are 
all  caveats  to  hold  against  a  lively, 
•ughtful,  and  in  the  main  con- 
cing  book,  dealing  intelligently 
h  very  real  human  problems. 

Putnam,  $3.95 

toria  at  Night  and  Other  Stories, 

Beigel. 

There  is  something  in  these  stories 
direct   and   disconcerting   as    the 
d,    petulant,    shameless    teen-age 
re  of  Brigitte  Bardot  on  the  movie 
en.    They   are   nearly   all   about 
young  and  unloved  and  insecure, 
their  disturbing  impact  is  offset 
the  fact  that  nearly  always  (as  for 
tance  in   "The   Balancing  Man," 
tory  of  a  teen-age  gang)  there  is 
ie    ray    of   compassion    or    hope, 
ing  loneliness  is  here,  almost  in 
flesh,  and  terror,  but  also  a  con- 
ion  that  there  are  many  kinds  of 
e  to  make  intolerable   lives   tol- 
ble.      The     twenty-three-year-old 


the  magazine 
ik   f&r  th 


AGE 


11   MAGAZINES   FOR 

TUB  PRlf^P  t\ (■  irsiyiPi 
9      m  mMBI        m  m  ^b»  ■  %Mr    HBSMB        ^mmr    m  ^Mf^  m  ^i  MB—    ■ 


Science  fiction  has  become  science  fact  and  suddenly, 

dramatically,  we  are  in  the  Space  Age.  Millions  of  Americans 

who  never  thought  about  science  before  are  not  only 

thinking  about  it  now,  but  relating  it  to  their  future 


From  Aug.  18,  1945,  when  the  Saturday 
Review  published  the  now -famous 
editorial,  "Modern  Man  Is  Obsolete"  on 
the  implications  of  nuclear  energy,  this 
national  weekly  has  been  defining  man's 
place  in  a  world  changing  drastically  at  an 
amazing  pace— first  in  the  atomic  era,  now 
in  the  space  age.  The  challenges  of  scien- 
tific progress  have  been  and  continue  to  be 
a  major  concern  of  the  magazine. 

Realizing  the  tremendous  role  science 
would  play  in  our  lives,  Saturday  Review 
editors  incorporated  into  the  magazine 
two  years  ago  a  new  Science  section,  under 
the  direction  of  John  Lear.  In  the  first 
issue  of  the  Saturday  Review  each  month, 
Science  Editor  Lear,  his  staff,  and  distin- 
guished contributors  relate  scientific  devel- 
opments to  our  life,  our  thought,  our 
security.  Edited  primarily  for  laymen,  the 
new  "magazine-within-a-magazine"  is  read 
and  respected  by  leading  scientists  through- 
out the  world. 

Thanks  to  the  Science  section,  Saturday 
Review  readers  have  known  about  Soviet 
missiles  development,  about  Soviet  science 
training,  long  before  Sputnik.  And  as  we  go 


MAIL  THE   COUPON    BELOW  TODAY! 


deeper  into  the  space  age,  Saturday  Review 
readers  will  continue  to  get  first  many  facts 
and  ideas  that  are  shaping  history . . :  and 
reports  on  the  repercussions  in  all  areas 
growing  out  of  the  miracles  of  science. 

READING  THAT'S  INFORMATIVE  ...  ANO  FUN! 

The  Science  Section  is  only  one  of  the  vital 
areas  covered  by  the  new,  expanded  Satur- 
day Review.  Edited  specifically  for  people 
whose  time  is  limited,  but  whose  interests 
are  not,  today's  Saturday  Review  is,  in 
reality,  11  magazines  in  one— bringing  you 
authoritative  coverage  of  science,  books, 
music,  world  affairs,  travel,  business,  edu- 
cation, art,  movies,  theatre  and  TV-radio. 

SPECIAL   INTRODUCTORY  OFFER 

To  introduce  you  to  the  new  Saturday 
Review  we  invite  you  to  subscribe  at  the 
special  rate  of  48  issues  for  only  $3.88. 
That's  a  regular  $12.00  newsstand  value; 
$6.48  by  subscription. 
Take  your  place  among  leaders  of  thought 
and  action  everywhere  who  read,  enjoy, 
depend  on  the  new  Saturday  Review- 
heads  of  great  corporations  . . .  outstand- 
ing men  and  women  in  government,  edu- 
cation, the  arts,  science,  religion,  the  world 
of  communications. 


ISSUES 
FOR 


3.88 


Extra! 

4  more  cooler 

af»"  year's  subscription 
'regularly  $7.00.'J 


SATURDAY  REVIEW,  Dept.  H358 

25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  36,  N.  Y. 

Please  enter  my  subscription  to  Saturday  review  at  the 
special  introductory  rate  of  48  issues  for  only  $3.88. 

D  $3.88  enclosed  (4  extra  issues-52  in  all!)  □  Bill  me 

For  Canada  add  $1.00— all  other  foreign  $2.00 


i 
I 

l 
I 
i 


Nome. 


Address ._ 
City 


_Zone_ 


_State_ 


106 


VERDE   VAL1EY   SCHOOL 
SUMMER   CAMP 

Camp-and-Travel in  AMAZING  ARIZONA 

Summer  adventure  for  boys  and  girls,  ages 
10-15,  on  165  wooded  acres  near  Arizona'* 
natural  wonders.  Camping  to  Grand  Canyon 
Painted  Desert,  Petrified  Forest,  Nav;ih. 
and  Hopi  Indian  villages  (famous  Kachin  - 
and  Snake  dances).  Riding,  swimming,  ten 
nis,  archery.  Use  of  modern  living  and  sports 
facilities,  infirmary  of  Verde  Valley  School. 
Careful  supervision.  Tutoring  available  in 
English  and  math.  6  weeks. 

Write   Box    102,   Sedona,  Arizona 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 


Indian  Springs  School 

Substantial  endowment  in  relation  to  size  makes  possible 
the  provision  of  special  conditions  for  the  education  of 
young  men  who  are  outstanding  in  their  potentiality  to 
achieve  distinction  of  performance  Emphasis  is  upon 
developing  a  habitual  vision  of  greatness,  upon 
and  upon  stimulating  and  keeping  alive  intellectual  curi- 
osity. Grades  nine  through  twelve.  Application  must  be 
made  at  least  six  months  in  advance.  Admission  ts  by  tests 
and  personal  interview.  Enrollment  limited  to  120  stu- 
dents. Send  for  brochure.  "Learning  is  by  Participating  in 
Creation  Through  Intelligence." 
Louis  E.  Armstrong,  DIr.,  Box  B,    Helena,   Alabama 


ECOLE    CHAMPLAIN— FRENCH    CAMP 

On  Latee  Chauiplain     I  I 

with    Europi  ad  I  'i.ui\   riding, 

lancing 
Sunday  S<  I    i  P 

Mrs.  E.  F.  Chase,  123  Summit  Street.  Burlington,  Vermont 


MARY  A.   BURNHAM  SCHOOL 

i  Thorough    colli  *  ton.     Fully    ac- 

1 1  .  I  ollege     Town 

.)■]'.  .in'  ages.  B  nuning.   All     ;  VIei 

sendieck  mi ' ;  National  it    81st 

\r.n    Gymnasium.  Summer  School.  Newport,  R.l    Catal 
Mrs.    Georae    W.    Emerson.    Box    43.    Northampton.    Mass. 


MANtlUS 

i  Grades  7-12.  Coi 

plete  college  preparation    ROTC    Higl    si  I    S    irmy  rating 
for  ovei  Bemedial  reading.  S] 

! :  Summer  Sess  ion.  Tun.-  [al     ssistance    I 

Robert  0.   Weekes.  The   Manlius  School.   Manlius.    N.   Y. 


WHICH   SCHOOL   or   COLLEGE 

is   best   for 
YOUR   son    or   daughter? 
I  can  help  yon  decide.  Overthim  >c.ir- 
in   school  work  and  guidance  counsel- 
ing.   85.00   for   your    first    inquiry;    no 
charges  thereafter. 

MRS.    LEWIS    D.    BEMENT 

Deerfield,  Massachusetts 


THE   OLDEST  WRITERS'   SERVICE 

Literary  Agent,  established  37  years.  Manuscripts 
criticized,  revised,  typed,  marketed.  Special  attention  to 
Book  manuscripts.   Poetry.  Catalogue  on  request. 

Agnes   M.    Reeve, 
Dept.  B.  Franklin.  0. 


ATHEIST  BOOKS 

3 2 -page  catalogue  free. 
Tbith  Seekeb  Co.        38  Park   Row.  New  York    8.  N     Y 


OUT-OF-PRINT   BOOKS 

—AT   LOWEST   PRICE8I 

You   uame    it — we    And   it  I    Fast    service.    No   obligation. 
Send  ua  your  wantA  I 

INTERNATIONAL   B00KFINDER8 
Box   3003-H.  Beverly    Hills.    Calif. 


author  has  had  stories  in  Mademoi- 
selle and  the  New  Yorker.  Hei  first 
book.  Random  I  louse,  $3 

The  Narrow  Search,  b\  Andrew 
(..11  ve. 

Mi.  Garve  has  delivered  himself 
ol  anothei  highl)  literate,  verj  ab- 
sorbing tale,  this  time  about  the 
search  Eot  .1  kidnaped  l>al>\  in  the 
canal  countn  ol  England  and  Wales. 
The  locale  is  so  photogenic;  t lit- 
mode  ol  travel  so  unusual;  the  plot 
so  simple  and  exciting;  and  the 
chai  .ii  ici  s  so  appealing  (ex<  ept,  of 
course,  For  the  villainous  villain) 
that  it  seems  a  natural  I01  the 
movies.  In  the  meantime  it  makes 
brisk  and  pleasurable  reading. 

Harper,  $2.95 

Men  and  Brethren,  by  fames  Gould 
( lozzens. 

I  his  hook  bv  the  author  ol  Guard 
0)  Honor  and  li\  l.<>,  e  Possessed  was 
firsl  published  in  1936  to  great  criti- 
cal applause  but  not  a  notable  sale. 
Because  ol  the  demand  created  by 
the  extraordinary  interest  in  his 
later  hooks  his  publishers  have  now 
reissued  this  story,  lull  ol  drama  and 
suspense,  ol  .1  weekend  in  the  life  of 
a  minister  in  a  poor  New  York 
parish.  It  is  a  brilliant,  thoughtrpro- 
voking  analysis  ol  mam  kinds  ol 
human  motivations;  a  compact,  tight 
little  picture,  taut  with  the  excite- 
ment of  conflicting  ideas  in  the 
(hurt  h    and   outside   it. 

Harcourt,   Bra<  e,    N  I 

Prize  Stories  1958:  The  O.  Henry 
Awards,  edited  by  Paul  Engle  and 
Curt  Harnack. 

This  collection  ol  distinguished 
short  stories  published  during  1957 
will  be  of  interest  to  readers  ol 
Harper's.  It  includes  Fiist  Voice"' 
h\  Robin  White  and  "Travelin 
Man"  by  Peter  Matthiessen,  both  of 
which  appeared  in  the  magazine  in 
the  past  year,  as  well  as  stories  1>\ 
Elizabeth  Enright,  Jean  Stafford, 
Hortense  Calisher  and  others  who 
have  been  published  in  Harper's 

Doubleday,  S3.95 

NON-FICTION 

Verdict:  The  Adventures  of  the 
Young  Lawyer  in  the  Brown  Suit. 
by  Michael  A.   Musmanno. 

An  amusine  and  exciting  book  of 


reminiscences  b\  a  trial  lawyer  w 
in    1932  became  the  youngest   jut 
in    Pennsylvania.      The   sioi\ 
lightl)   with  his  early,  unimporta: 
and  often  diverting!)  unlikely  cas 
all   ol   whit  h    he   argued   in   his 
brown  suit— and  won  loit\  cases  u 
row .     I  he   hook   woi  ks   nj)  to  a  d 
iii.it it    and  moving  climax  in    |urj 
Musmanno's    account    ol    his   effo! 
to   get    a    st.t\    in    the   execution 
Sacco  and   Vanzetti,   some  ol   whi 
he  has  ahead)  told  in  Afte)   Tiue 
Years.    What  a  ston   it  is.  and  w] 
days    those    weie.    and    they    tome 
lilt    again    in   this   intimate  and  i 
passioned     history.     And    the    fu 
chapter,  which  tells  how  he,  the 
ol    au    immigrant    railroad    work 
coal  miner,  finally  took  the  oath1 
office  as    fudge  ol   the   Pennsylvai 
Supreme    Court,    pulls    out    all    1 
stops.  Doubleday,  -S4 

Shinny  on  Your  Own  Side  and  Od 
Memories  of  Growing  Up,  b\  M 
Miller. 

The  author  ol  /  Coner  the  IJV/fl 
front  writes  a  hook  ol  charming  b; 
hood  recollections  of  Everett,  W'a 
ington,  and  a  homestead  on  a  Mi 
tana  prairie  in  the  early  years  of 
century.  Overtones  of  Tom  Saw 
.<\\d  Huck  Finn  in  a  Pacific  Nor 
west  setting. 

Doubleda\.  S3I 


FOR  E I    A 

Current  Events  &  World  Affairs 
Concern  with  bodies  celestial 
only  served  to  heighten  concern  w' 
matters  here  below,  01  so  the  torn; 
books  would  indicate.    On   Maid' 
Harper  will  publish  Chester  Bow 
Ideas.  Peoples,  and  Peace,  a  plea 
better  East-West  understanding; 
April      Knopf      announces      Wo 
Politics,  a  new  look  at  internatio 
relationships  l>\   A.   F.   K.  Organs 
and  I01    \la\    the   Book-of-the-Moi 
Club    has    chosen     fohn    Gunth« 
monumental    Inside    Russia    Tod 
which  Harper  will  publish  in  Apj 
For  Ma\    Viking  has  a  book  call 
with  tempered  optimism.  Doctors 
the  World:  A  Report  on  the   Wo 
Health     Organization.     h\      Mur 
Morgan. 

First  Novels  and  the  Young 

Youth    seems    well   seated    in 
literary    saddle.    At  Vikine   there! 


107 


!  MEN  ONLY: 

to-date   advice  on   what 

year  on  every  occasion  . 


ESQUIRE 
FASHION   GUIDE 

:ry  page  of  this  authoritative  and  corn- 
book  brings  you  a  wealth  of  specific, 
ical  information  on  what  to  wear,  when 
?here  to  wear  it,  and  how  to  look  your 
iou  find  expert,  easy-to-follow  sugges- 
to  help  you  select  the  right  clothes  for 
build,  coloring,  and  way  of  life.  You 
/er  tips  on  how  to  take  care  of  your 
:s  to  make  them  last  longer  and  look 

vers   your   questions   .   .   . 

'ether  you  are  spending  a  weekend  in 
iuntry — planning  a  trip  to  Europe — 
lg    golf    with    the    boss — attending    a 

I  wedding — or    going    skiing,    here's 

0  look  and  feel  your  confident  best  at 
■nes. 

rated   and    indexed   .   .   . 

h   detailed    instructions    and    over    50 

II  illustrations  and  charts,  ESQUIRE 
ION  GUIDE  shows  you  how  to  pick 
ght  hat  and  shirt  collar  for  your  face, 
ght  patterns  and  colors  for  your  com- 
>n;  how  to  mix  some  colors  and  match 
i;  how  to  tie  the  Windsor  knot,  the 
e,  the  four-in-hand ;  how  to  select  your 

1  clothes   and   accessories   as   well   as 
apparel. 

WIRE  FASHION  GUIDE  is  the  final 
rity  on  men's  clothes — a  guide  to  help 
o  be  comfortably  and  appropriately 
d  at  all  times. 

en  Days'  Free  Examination — -, 

1PER  &  BROTHERS 

asl  33rd  St.,   New  York   16,  N.   Y. 

lemen:  Please  send  me  ESQUIRE  FASHION 
DE  for  ten  days'  free  examination.  Within 
lime  I  will  remit  S3. 50  plus  a  few  cents 
ing   charges,    or    return    the    book. 


Zone. ..  .State 

1703D 

E!     If    you    enclose    payment,    we    will    pay 
ing   charges.     Same   return    privilege. 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

much  talk  about  a  March  book 
called  The  Sergeant,  a  first  novel  by 
a  t  wen  ty-six-y  ear-old  young  man 
from  San  Francisco,  Dennis  Murphy. 
Houghton  Mifflin  writes  that  they 
are  "running  a  high  lever"  about 
a  first  novel  about  Haiti  during  the 
U.  S.  Occupation  of  the  1920s,  called 
The  Cross  of  Baron  Samedi,  by 
Richard  Dohrman  (March).  Pan- 
theon in  March  has  The  Levelling 
Wind  by  M.  Benaya,  "a  young  Amer- 
ican married  to  an  Israeli  lieutenant 
colonel."  A  twenty-six-year-old  New 
Yorker  named  Alex  Karmel  has  a 
novel  called  Mary  Ann  on  Viking's 
Ajaril  list  while  Knopf  has  two  first 
novels  coming  in  May.  One  is  The 
Hard  Blue  Sky  by  Shirley  Ann  Grau, 
whose  first  book,  a  collection  of  short 
stories,  The  Black  Prince,  eot  such 
critical  acclaim  a  year  or  so  ago;  and 
the  other,  The  Affair,  "a  brilliant 
and  frankly  sensuous  first  novel"  by 
Flans  Koningsberger.  Scheduled  un- 
specifically  "for  spring"  are  three 
more  first  novelists:  End  of  a  War, 
by  Edward  Loomis  from  Ballantine; 
A  Friend  in  Power  by  Carlos  H. 
Baker,  chairman  of  the  department 
of  English  at  Princeton  (and  so  not 
quite  so  young),  from  Scribner;  and 
Right  Bank,  by  Elaine  Neal,  from 
Morrow. 

In  many  of  these  first  novels  the 
authors  discuss  the  problems  of 
the  "unsilent  generation"  in  fic- 
tional form.  In  a  book  called 
The  Unsilent  Generation  (Rinehart, 
March)  edited  by  Otto  Butz  "in 
anonymous  autobiographies  eleven 
young  men— seniors  at  a  top  Ivy 
League  university— have  set  down 
their  most  personal  thoughts  in 
answer  to  'What  do  you  want  of  life? 
What  do  you  think  of  happiness, 
success,  security,  God,  education, 
marriage,  family  and  your  own  gen- 
eration?' " 

National  Library  Week 

The  National  Book  Committee,  a 
non-profit  citizens'  committee,  in 
co-operation  with  the  American 
Library  Association,  has  set  up  the 
week  of  March  16-22  as  National 
Library  Week.  Anyone  interested  in 
participating  in  the  events  scheduled 
to  help  promote  interest  in  reading 
and  books  can  get  in  touch  with  his 
local  library  or  write  to  National 
Library  Week,  24  West  40th  Street, 
New  York  18,  N.  Y. 


"Autobiography 
at  its  very  best" 

—News  Sentinel,  Fort  Wayne,  Ind. 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


PARAMHANSA 
YOGANANDA 


This  is  the  first  time  that  an 
authentic  Hindu  yogi  has 
written  his  life  story  for 
Western  readers.  Yogananda 
explains  with  scientific  clar- 
ity the  subtle  but  definite 
laws  by  which  yogis  per- 
form miracles  and  attain 
self-mastery.  Colorful  chap- 
ters are  devoted  to  his  visits 
with  Mahatma  Gandhi, 
Rabindranath  Tagore, 
Luther  Burbank,  and  The- 
rese  Neumann— the  Catholic 
stigmatist  of  Bavaria. 

"/  am  grateful  to  you  for 
granting  me  some  insight 
into  this  fascinating  world." 
—Thomas  Mann,  Nobel 
prizeman. 

$4.00 


THE 


MASTER 
SAID 

Sayings  of 
PARAMHANSA 
YOGANANDA 


Wit  and  wisdom  of  a  modern 
world  teacher.  Practical 
advice  in  solving  and  dis- 
solving our  daily  problems. 
$2.50 

Self-Realization  Fellowship 

(Dept.  AMH3) 

Los  Angeles  65,  Calif. 

At  All  Bookstores 


tfe  ^.RECORDINGS 


Edward  Tatnall  Canby 


i 


FRENCH     WITHOUT     TEARS 

Lully-Moliere:  Lc  Bourgeois  Gentil- 
Homme.  Complete  drama  and  music. 
Acting  cast;  musical  soloists;  Chorus  and 
Orch.  Collegium  Musicum,  Paris.  Ion- 
don  XLLA-47  (3).  Complete  English- 
French   text. 

What  a  [abulous  evening's  entertain- 
ment-better a  week  <»(  evenings-for 
anybody  who  likes  older  musi(  and  can 
understand  French  (with  an  assist  il 
necessary,  Iron,  the  printed  texl  and 
translation).  This  is  the  sort  ol  produc- 
tion that  practically  never  gets  on  an 
ssible  stage:  too  complicated,  too 
expensive,  and  much  too  Ion-.  Lully 
himsell  never  heard  the  entire  musical 
score  in  performam  e. 

lint  in  casual  doses,  via  records,  the 
work  is  a  series  <>l  preposterous,  hilari- 
ous, studious  delights-the  combination 
ol  wild  comedy  and  high  style  thai  is 
typical  of  French  drama.  One  witty 
seem  aftei  another-with  musical  inter- 
ludes, songs,  and  dancing-a  las;  pate. 
people  shouting,  arguing,  often  positively 
screeching  so  excited  do  they  become- 
yet  the  whole  done  with  impeccable  dic- 
tion  and  polish. 

In  fact,  my  hist  thought,  on  listening 
to  a  couple  of  scenes,  was  that  the  near- 
est entertainment  counterpart  is  the 
old-fashioned  American  radio  comedy 
program-Gracie  Allen,  Durante,  or  doz- 
ens of  others.  The  tempo  is  the  same, 
the  hysteria  is  just  as  extreme,  the  situa- 
tions  exactly    as    preposterous. 


Yet  this  is  elegant  >  lassi<  satire,  eyen 
so,  the  lines  written  b)  a  great  French 
dramatic  poet,  the  music  by  one  ol  the 
top  composes  ol   French  nisi  >ry. 

I  he  recorded  performance  is  a  taped 
composite,  evidently  edited  together- 
the  joints  don't  always  quite  match  in 
feeling  and  spun.  The  spoken  acting  is 
superb,  in  the  best  and  most  lucidly, 
natural  French  tradition,  the  solo  sing- 
ing is  good  enough,  the  orchestra  a  bit 
on  the  rhythmically  belligerent  side. 
The  chorus  acts  beautifully,  enters  into 
ih:  spirit  of  the  dizzy  goings-on.  but  has 
one  unfortunate  failing-it  flats,  disgrace- 
fully. 1)<»  musicologists  evet  have  poor 
ears?  Often. 

Coupeiin:  L'Apotheose  de  Lullv  (arr. 
Saguer).  Corrette:  Concerto  lor  Three 
Flutes.  Hewitt  Ch.  Orch.  Epic   LC  3383. 

This  is  an  excellent  record  lor  an  ear- 
introduction  to  the  subtleties  ol  French 
eighteenth-century  style.  The  original 
suite  oi  descriptive  movements  was  in 
trio  sonata  form,  two  violins  and  con- 
tinue) (harpsichord  plus  cello)  ;  the 
Saguer  orchestration  is  wonderfully  taste- 
ful,  preserving  the  propel  ityle,  taking 
up  mam  ol  the  fanciful  suggestions  in 
the  descriptive  allegory  about  Lull)  that 
goes  with  the  score-yet  it  has  a  famil- 
iar ring  to  any  ear  that  knows  the  Han- 
del-Beecham  sort  of  instrumental  suite, 
the  "Water  Music"  or  the  Bach  Suites  for 
Orchestra. 

The  best   thing  about   Saguer's   tran- 
scription is  that   it  preserves  the  elabo- 


l.ite  melodic  ornament— and  the  I 
Orchestra  plays  its  complexitiei 
ease  and  familiarity,  where  most 
i  ians  flounder. 

I  he  "Apotheose."  a  tribute  to  G>i 
ins  great  French-Italian  predecel 
a  lane  ilul  account  ol  Lully's  rece 
among  the-  gods,  with  pointed  rele 
10  the  dispute  between  French  anc 
Mi,  styles  tli. ii  raged  in  Couperirg 
L.ulh  is  received  on  Parnassus,  nice 
uieal  liali. in.  Corelli  and— than] 
Couperin's  musical  ingenuity— the 
pl.i\  sweet  music  togethei  and  ta 
the  spit  its  ol  France  and  llah.  Fh 
tie  differences  so  cleverly  explor 
Couperin's  original  score  are  most 
on  us  Inn  the  music  itself  remains! 
The  Corrette  concerto,  also  a 
scription,  is  a  light-hearted  Han 
trifle,  not  unlike  the  music  ol  Boyc 
others  ol  the  Handel  satellite  area 
|a//\    dotted  figures. 

Lalande:     Two    Great     Motets    (1 
Vir;    Usquequo    Domine).    Ph.    C; 
Vocal     Ins.,    Jean-Marie    Leclair 
1  ns..     soloists,     Fremaux.    Westm 
Erato   XWN    18337. 


WORTH   LOOKING   /A 


TO    .   .   . 

From    the    "Recent    Acquisitions"    Shelf 


Strauss:  Horn  Concertos.  Dennis  Brain. 
Philharmonia,  Sawallisch.  Angel  35496. 

Pour  La  Harpe.  Marcel  Grandjany.  Cap- 
itol   P8401. 

Reginald  Kell,  Clarinet,  Brooks  Smith. 
Piano.  (Saint-Saens,  Templeton,  Sza- 
lowski,  Williams).  Decca  DL  9941. 

Delibes:  Coppelia  Ballet  (complete 
score).  L'Orch.  d.  la  Suisse  Romande, 
Ansermet.    London  LL  1717/18  (2). 


Cherubini:  Symphony  in  D;  Weber: 
Symphony  #2.  Vienna  Symphony  Orch., 
Zee  hi.     Epic    LC   3402. 

Sadler's  Wells  Ballet-A  Silver  Jubilee 
Tribute.  (Ballet  excerpts).  Angel  35500. 

Beethoven:  Sonatas  Op.  12,  #1;  Op.  23; 
Op.  25.  A.  Grumiaux,  violin,  Clara 
Haskill,  pf.  Epic  LC  3400. 

Rocking  the  Classics  Suite.  (Jazz  Ensem- 
ble). Golden  Crest  CR  3035. 


Two  impressive  motets,  from  169 

French  composer  who   is  rapidly 

a  big  place  in  the  current  French 

ol  older  music,  are  here  sung  in  : 

cathedral   sound,   with  orchestra, 

and  big  choii  as  a  backing  to  the  si 

The  pec  uliai  h  nasal  and  verv  at 

French  tone-  production  ol  today, 

like  the  singing  of  any  other  nat 

particularly    good    for    this   orn; 

music.  The  familiar  opera-oratori 

ol  our  own  singers— with  its  rich,  j 

tone— is  poison  to  it.   There  isn't 

intelligible    note   here;    every    tui 

ornament  is  made  clear  and  natur 

soloists'   voices  match   beautiiully 

usually  the  case  in  French  singir 

These  works  are  big,  on  the 

the    larger    Bach    cantatas    but, 

earlier    manner,    free    of    set    ari 

full   of   short,    contrasting   sectio 

chorus  and  orchestra  often    inter 

excitement.   Lovely  ornamented  r 

lines,     the    fresh,     constantly     ch; 

rhythm    and    tempo    of    the    pij 

period,    make    for    a    Baroque    el 

lightness  combined  with  monuirn 

that  is  utterly    unlike  the   massive 

the  Bath-Handel  period  itself.  | 

oorgeotts   recording    and   one    tli 
.  •  i       i 

mow  more  interesting  as  the  it 

tary  themes  of  the  many  short 

fix  themselves  in  your  memory. 


Corelli:    Complete    Opus     1     & 

Church  Sonatas,  12  Chamber  1 
natas)  .  Musicorum  Arcadia.  Vox 
(3)  boxed. 

This  is  another  in  the  series  of  V 
ited  complete  editions  of  Italiai 


The  gentlemen  above  are  members  of  Capitol 
Records'  famed  record-rating  "jury."  Their  job 
is  to  pass  judgment  on  every  classical  album 
Capitol  produces. 

Like  jurors  everywhere,  Capitol's  jurymen  have 
been  given  their  "instructions." 

When  they  decide  that  an  exceptional  perform- 
ance has  been  flawlessly  recorded  by  Capitol's 
creative  staff  and  sound  engineers — they  then 


permit  the  "Full  Dimensional  Sound"  symbol  to 
be  placed  on  the  upper  right  hand  corner  of  the 
album  cover. 

It's  the  biggest  promise  in  the  smallest  space  in 
all  music. 

Play  a  "Full  Dimensional  Sound"  album  next 
time  you  are  shopping  for  records.  Hear  how 
jealously  the  'guardians'  above  protect  music's 
best-kept  promise. 


Incomparable  High  Fidelity— Full  Dimensional  Sound  Albums 


110 


THE     N  E  W     RECO  R  1)  INGS 


and  it  is  an  excelleni  set— though  I  ad 
mit  I  have  not  heard  ill  the  dozens  o) 
movements  ol  the  twenty-foui  works; 
they  were  never  intended  to  be  heard 
:  .nsecutivel)  and  there's  no  reason  wh) 
you  should  sit  through  them  all  al 
once.    (1  didn't.) 

The  two  types  ol  sonata  are  ver)  much 
alike  in  sound.  I  hough  the  "chun  h" 
v., n, Ha,  were  actually  played  as  part  of 
church  services,  tin  \  have  no  religious 
connotation  foi  our  cars:  this  is  all 
"Baroque"  chamber  music. 

\s  more  and  more  ol  the  "pre-Bach" 
period  becomes  Familiar,  Corelli's  long- 
known  music  is  taking  on  a  new  per- 
spective. He  seems  at  first  so  much  like 
Bach,  Vivaldi,  or  Handel,  that  we  aren'l 
always  aware  oi  Ids  place  in  an  earlier 
generation— the  Opus  1  sonatas  were 
published  in  1681,  lour  years  before 
Bach's  birth.  Corelli  sounds  fai  more 
modern  than  the  other  composers  ol  his 
own  da)  thai  we  are  getting  to  know, 
just  as  w<  have  always  heard,  his  musii 
was  the  \er\  foundation  lor  the  great 
Italian  school  and  the  related  Bach  and 
Handel  music  thai  in  turn  was  the 
foundation  ol  instrumental  music  ol 
the  entire  symphonic  era. 

Compare  Corelli  with  Lalande,  oi  the 
same  era— and  be  amazed  at  the  differ- 
ence. On  the  whole.  Lalande  is  more  in- 
teresting: Corelli  is  comfortably  famil- 
iar. 

Rameau:  Pieces  de  Clavecin  en  Concert. 

Gustav  Leonhardt,  hps.,  Lars  Fryden, 
bar.  violin.  N.  Harnoncourt,  via.  da 
gamba.    Vanguard    BG-556. 

Here  is  French  music  from  the  vei\ 
height  of  the  Bach-Handel  period  and 
vou  will  quickly  hear  how.  even  in  a 
familiar  eighteenth-century  harmonic 
idiom,  the  French  feeling  for  color  and 
ornament  has  persisted.  It  remains  quite 
unlike  that  of  the  German  and  Italian 
music  that  dominated  the  time  and  still 
dominates  our  concept  of  that  period. 

In  contrast  to  the  great  splurge  of 
violin  music  in  Italy,  French  music 
tended  to  play  down  the  solo  fiddle. 
These  highly  ornamental  trio  sonatas 
were  actually  written  as  keyboard  solos 
with  optional  extra  string  parts,  re- 
luctantly added  to  suit  the  taste  ol  the 
time.  The  harpsichord  part  is  playable 
on  its  own.  (The  folk  song  settings  of 
Beethoven  and  Haydn,  similarly  ar- 
ranged, come  to  mind.) 

The  "Concerts"  or  suites,  made  up  of 
the  traditional  named  movements,  will 
seem  twitter)  and  birdlike  at  first  Inn 
the  ornamental  lines  soon  smooth  them- 
selves out  into  catchy  melodies,  the  trills 
and  turns  blend  happily  into  the  gen- 
eral decor.  Gracious  and  expressive 
music,  wonderful  with  a  glass  of  French 
wine. 


C  cmi | xi  in :  First  Tenebrae  Service;  Mo- 
tet: Audite  Omnes;  Three  Airs.  Hugues 
Cuenod,  tenor;  ens.  ol  viols  dir.  Daniel 
Pinkham.   Concord    1-005. 

1  his  is  the  mosi  successful  >l  the  Swis^ 
tenor  Cuenod's  i e< ordings  to  date,  i> 
pealing  some  works  he  has  done  be  lore. 
I  lis  rathei  tense,  edg)  voi<  e  is  hen  at 
last  recorded  from  a  respectable  distance 
and  is  balanced  musicalh  with  the-  other 
participants;  the  lovel)  phrasing,  the 
earnestness  ol  his  singing  are  enhanced, 
the  unpleasant  vocal  qualities  played 
down. 

The  record  is  a  delight:  it  is  difficult 
only  in  that  the  material  is  all  loi  the 
one-  \oue\  with  \. living  musical  associa- 
tions. 

The  Art  of  Andre  Marchal,  vol.  1; 
Bach.  Klavier  Uebung,  Part  III.  Gre- 
gorian e hant  by  M.I. T.  Choir.  Holtkamp 
oil;. ins.  Kresge  Auditorium  and  Chapel, 
M.I.T.  Unicorn  UNLP  1046. 

A  leading  older  French  organist,  blind, 
plays  Bach  on  the  two  organs  built  for 
the  ultra  new  auditorium  and  chapel  at 
M.I.T.  with  fine  musicianship  and  a 
grand  sense  ol  style.  The  disc  includes 
the  big  F  Flat  Prelude  and  "St.  Anne" 
fugue  plus  the  large  and  small  settings 
of  the  Gregorian  Kyrie  melody  as  used 
in  Bath's  Lutheran  service.  The  M.I.T. 
Choir  sings  the  original  Gregorian,  lor 
musical   contrast    and   comparison. 

It  is  easy  to  sense  when  an  organist 
is  playing  with  his  ears  open  to  the 
acoustics  of  a  building  and  to  the  sound 
of  his  music— you  will  feel  the  pliability 
eit  phrasing  and  color  as  Marchal  plays 
in  this  somewhat  difficult  situation. 
Blindness  is  a  virtue  here,  for  it  sharp- 
eiis  the  ears,  heightens  awareness  of 
acoustic  effect. 

Of  the  two  new  M.I.T.  organs  the 
smaller,  in  the  irregularly  circular  brick 
chapel,  comes  through  with  the  best 
color  and  livencss:  the  large  organ  is 
hampered  by  -the  smothering,  dead  qual- 
ity  of  the  famous  modern  auditorium. 
Hampered  for  my  ears  anyhow— though 
the  place  is  supposed  to  have  ideal  acous- 
tics. (It's  the  sort  of  hall  where  a  vacuum 
cleaner  on  the  stage  sounds  about  three 
feet  from  your  nose  as  you  stand  in  the 
extreme  back  row,  hundreds  of  feet 
away.    I  was  there  last  summer.) 

The  Art  of  Andre  Marchal.  vol.  2, 
French  organ  music  by  de  Grigny,  Louis 
Couperin,  F.  Couperin,  Titelouze,  Le 
Begue,  Marchand.  Daquin.  With  M.I.T. 
Choir.    Unicorn   UNLP   1047. 

This  volume  explores  an  interesting 
range  of  late  seventeenth-  and  early 
eighteenth-century  French  music— the 
sort  that  is  now  so  felicitously  revived, 


to  be  set  alongside  the  traditional  Bat 
Handel,  .end  Corelli,  the-  Buxtehude  a 
I'm  cell,  that  we  already  know.  It 
lovel)  music,  not  far  from  the  smii 
harpsichord  music  but  with  a  wholly 
ganistic  sense  ol  grandeur  and  pomp 
sei  oil  passages  ol  utmost  lightness  a 
grace,    lull   ol    ornamentation. 

\-ain  the  M.I.T.  Choir  sings 
original  GregOl  ian  foi  one  work,  a  s 
ting  e>|  the  "Veni  Creator"  by  de  Grig) 
I  he  unfamiliar  composers,  this  one 
eluded,  turn  out  to  have-  written  p 
suasive  music— as  is  so  often  the  c; 
when    examples    ol    a    neglected    ait    ( 

rediscovered. 

Buxtehude  Anniversary  Program.  Q 
latas:  Alles.  was  Ihr  Thut;  Was  mich  ; 
dieser  Welt  Betruebt;  Missa  Brevis;  M 

nificat  in  D.  Cantata  Singers,  stii 
Oieh.,  Ufred  Mann:  Helen  Boatwrid 
Janet  Wheeler,  Russell  Oberlin,  Char 
Bressler,  Paul  Matthen.  Urania 
8018. 

There  is  lop-rank  music  in  I  his  reco 
ing,  modestl)  played  by  the  strings.  1 
vently  sung  by  the  choir,  and  ratf 
roughly  treated  b\  the  five  soloists  in  c 
semble.  The  recording  is  strangely  1 
anced,  the  choir  somewhat  too  weak 
relation  to  the  very  near  strings,  soi 
of  the  soloists  more  distant  than  othe 

The  music  itself  is  decidedly  welcoi 
It  is  of   the   sort   that  grew  out   ol    I 
great   Schiitz,    early   in    the   seven  teen 
century,   and   led  straight   on   to  Bad" 
Buxtehude  was  a  formative  influence 
Bach.    Sprightly,  colorful  in  I  he   Nori 
era  manner,  it  has  more  continuity  ai 
is  easier  to  listen  to  than  Schiitz  but  itj 
still     full     of    what     we     hear     today    ! 
slightly  naive  seventeenth-century  fre>| 
ness. 

The    performances   have   a   peculial 
American  sound  to  them— after  so  ml 
European    recordings   of   older    musiij 
which  I  can  only  describe  as  a  kind 
tenseness,  a  dedicated  but  dogged  cptj 
ity,  that  works  against  a  proper  freed! 
of  expression.   The   usual  causes    lor 
are    the    inevitable    lack    of   enough  ] 
hearsal    time,    the    strain    of    highly  q 
pensive  recording  sessions,  the  tempo 
American    life    that    leaves    the    ^ingc 
exhausted  before  they  even  start.  Peop 
take    such    matters    far    more    easily   ' 
Europe,    as    you    can    hear    in    most  ll 
cordings. 

In  addition,  the  five  soloists,  each 
fine  singer  in  his  own  right,  tend  here 
bellow  the  music  in  characteristic  "e>i 
torio"  fashion  as  though  their  lives  d 
pended  on  loud  noise.  But  Helen  Bo; 
wright's  solo  cantata,  at  the  end  ol  01 
side,  lights  all  wrongs:  she  alone  se: 
the  mood  ol  relaxed  music-making  th 
the  larger  group,  for  all  its  efforts, 
unable  to  achieve. 


■I 


tie  new 


t 


Did  Stokowski's  mastery  of  orches- 
trings  has  never  been  so  apparent 
these  selections  by  Bach,  Borodin, 
maninoff  and  others.       PA08415 


YEHUDI  MENUHIN,  violin 

BRAHMS-CONCERTO  IN  D  MAJOR 


I 


§8fc\ 


{&{&&  tfirf. 


'^AJ 


\ 


Yehudi  Menuhin's  interpretation  of 
Brahms'  only  violin  concerto  is  breath- 
taking. Rudolf  Kempe  conducts  the 
Berlin  Philharmonic.  PAO8410 


Pianist  Leonard  Pennario's  brilliant 
new  interpretation  of  a  beloved  con- 
certo. Erich  Leinsdorf  conducts  the  Los 
Angeles  Philharmonic.  PA08417 


EETHOVEN 

SIONATA 


TCHAIKOVSKY 


m  u 


JSTTNERt 
piarip 


Beethoven's  greatest  sonatas — - 
igic  Appassionata  and  the  heroic 
tein — superbly  played  by  pianist 
Kentner.  PAO8409 


CI  N 

LISZT 


KENTNER 


Winner  of  Budapest's  Liszt  Award  and 
Warsaw's  Chopin  Prize,  pianist  Kent- 
ner performs  well-known  selections  by 
both  composers.  P8400 


SlUAM 


the  JS&LUEZ  £ft$\XKe  ORCHESTRA 


Tender,  poignant  music  from  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  ballets — faultlessly  per- 
formed by  the  world  famous  Ballet 
Theatre  Orchestra.  PA0841G 


jets 
with  the 

.Spanish  guitar 


iurindo  Almeida,  guitar 


I  arkuble  presentation  by  one  of 
■  fid's  greatest  guitarists.  Flutist 
I  nan  and  contralto  Salli  Terri  join 
la  in  a  deeply  moving  album  of 
ixn  and  French  music.  PAO8406 


BEETHOVEN 
THE  LATE  QUARTETS 


rHI    HOLLYWOOD  STRING   QUARTRT 

Beethoven's  most  inspired  quartets  as 
performed  at  the  Edinburgh  Festival 
by  the  internationally  acclaimed  Holly- 
wood String  Quartet.  Deluxe  5-record 
package  with  brochure.  PER8394 


icomparable  High  Fidelity— Full  Dimensional  Sound  Albums 


GOLDMARK 

CONCERTO  IN  A  MINOR 
for  violin  and  orchestra 

MILSTEIIM 


A  concerto  of  delicate  interplay  be- 
tween violin  and  orchestra,  matchlessly 
performed  by  violinist  Nathan  Milstein 
and  the  Philharmonia  Orch.  PA08414 


Ai 


DEMONSTRATION  OFFER 

OF  NEW  BOOKS  OF 

HISTORY  and  WORLD  AFFAIRS 


Take  any  3  for  only  $3M. 


tn 


i  fag* 


MtMBUSHIf 

(VALUES    UP   TO    $24.00) 

>•"  "      v  r  tterf  is  an  amazingly  generous  del 

.  |.;  >'  •'•    y  >i    '         XT.     stration    offer     It    is   made   sole! 
W  I  '        %t  v  >  prove  to  von  how  much  vou  will  enjol 

„  H  i   "  WIDE  VARIETY  of  important  new  I 

of  history  and  world  affairs  you  can  i  j 
cash  savings  through  the  History  Book! 
The  distinguished  selections  picturl 
this  page  —  all  handsomely  bound, I 
many  of  them  illustrated  — sell  for  as  | 
as  $8  50  each  at  publishers'  list  priced 
we  invite  you  to  choose  ANY  THREI 
only  S3. 95.  if  you  join  the  History 
Club  on  this  Trial  Membership  Offer. 
^.  **?~\  n  — h  The   History    Book   Club   selection 

t'-7  HflPM  «j».  fi/ftiS/  chosen  by  an  eminent  Board  of  Histc 

WAYA  I         BiM  ^iS»*S*'  made  up" of  Dumas  Malone.  Walter  1 

TAyA  t\\  fttUD  and    Louis    B    WriSht    Earh   book   " 

■J  I  wf^^L  tf&Sf*  •**%  si  ribed  to  you  —  in  advance  -  in  a  ci 

1L       *ff?^H  I  ImhH  */T~f'  l§i £9  an''   objective   review.   If  you  do  not 

fljjf  »*  a  book,  you  merely  return  a  printed 

,  (always  provided)  and  it  will  not  be 

y   «■  -  You  may  accept  as  few  as  four  sele( 

,        ^^^^«*  or  alternates  a  year,  and  resign  at  an) 

",,5  after  accepting  four  such  books. 

wAifji^^^**  You  receive  a  valuable  Free  Bonus 

with  every  fourth  purchase  after  you 

tial    selection.    (Last    year,    countin) 

value  of  Bonus  Books,  members  sav 

average  of  $3.16  on  each  selection.)  A 

addition  to  current  selections,  a  great  { 

other    important    new    books    are 

'  r3H  ^9f^jt  available  to  you.  at  special  Members 

bs      Tti'Lm    J^M         prices  and  with  full   Bonus  Credit. 

IP    -WW  IBalcfiill  RiSh<  now'  choose  ANY  THRKE 

~m  J  jH  P  "   ■►  KJ  dm'-L^^U  from  ,his  ,>a"e   (vaIues  to  $24.00)   for 

I  *7L.^aH  $3.95.    Mail   entire   coupon   now  • 

money  — to  History  Book  Club,  Inc., 
f^W^S^^i  h'i  I  nn-iJ,       40   Guernsey   St.,   Stamford. 

tuc  ui«thdv  Rtinic  pimr   in,.    i,rfUi«  I — I     MEMOIRS  OF  GEN.  WM. T.  SHERMAN.               BYZANTIUM:  Greatness  and  Declin 

IHt  HIMUKT  BUUK  CLUB.  Inc.,  UeplHA-23  |_J     His  own  story,  in  his  own  words.  L_l     by    Chirles    Diehl     Compellin 

40  Guernsey  St.,  Stamford,  Conn.  of  what   it  was  like  to  lead  the  most  record  of  the  splendor  and  barbarity 

damned-and-praised  campaign  of  the  grandeur  and  decadence  of  a  famou 

Send    me    at    once    the    THREE  Civil  War-and  one  of  the  most  devas-  capital.  List  price  S8. 50. 

books  I  have  checked,  two  as  my  tating  of  all   time,    List  price  S8.00.  . —     A  HISTORY  OF  FRANCE 

enrollment    gift    and    one    as   my  , — ,     MERCHANT    OF    PRAT0    by    Ins  I I     Maurois.  A  great  author's  ma 

first  selection,  and  bill  me  ONLY      I I     Origo.  Extraordinary  biography  terful  new  history  of  victories,  defea: 

$3.95   (plus  a  few  cents  for  post-  of  a  14th  century  European— from  his  .  .  .  kings,  mistresses,  politicians  an| 

age   and   packing).   Forthcoming  ?™.   utterly   frank   writings  on  life,  heroes.  List price £7.50. 

selections  will  be  described  to  me      *»*?-  ™nn?IS  and  m°r? ls  °n  thc7  7n      !  r     I        «  hV    iu    n         •  61 

■    T  ,      ,.  of  the  Renaissance.   List  price  S7.50.       Geoffrey  Bibbv    Thrilling      \ 

Lnnva<nookCsimanlv  hv^eturnWa  Fl  HISTORY  OF  THE  GERMAN  GENERAL  are  there"  reenactment  of  the  livej 
an\  book  simply  by  returning  a  STAFF  6-\  Walt-r  Goerhtz  The  customs  and  religions  of  prehistory- 
printed  form.  You  will  send  me  a  Rrelt  military  geniuses—their  person-  ,rom  Stor>e  Age  savagery  to  the  daw| 
valuable  FREE  BONUS  BOOK  alities,  triumphs  and  fatal  mistakes.  of  civilization.  List  price  $6.7' 
each  time  I  purchase  four  addi-  List  price  $7  50  I  |  ARMS  AND  MEN  by  Walter  Millii 
tional  selections  or  alternates.  My                THE  TREE   OF  CULTURE  by  Ralph  ' — '     Tnis  remarkable  study-in-dept| 

onlv  obligation  is  to  accept  four  I I     Linton  Man's  religions,  sciences,  of  U.  S.  military  history-its  weaporj 

selections    or    alternates    in    the  family  habits  and  civifizations-from  j^^™0^''** -1°   n?w  ~ ,tZt?l 

first  vear  I  am  a  member    and  I  tribal    beginnings    to    modern    times.  lea«s  '.<?. f-  surprising  new  estimate 

nrsi  year  i   am  a  memoer,  anu  l  ,.  S7  50  our  military  s  place  in   the  world  i 

may  resign  at  any  time  after  ac-  '     „.„„,'„    __„__,_    ,       ,,  today.  List" price  $5  75 

r-arftino  fk,,r  =iir-b   hmtc  I — I     A    WORLD     RESTORED     by    Henry  L 

cepting  four  such  books.  |_j     Kissinger    A  new  ,ook  a,  one  of  ,  MILITARY    HISTORY    OF    MOOEfll 

niADAMTrr.  ii  nni  ...nioioii  „i:,iioH        Europe's  epochal   moments  —  when  ' — '     CHINA    by    F     F.    Liu.    The  trl 

GUARANTEE  :  If  not  completely  satisfied        M(,,tclrnlrh  ^        ius  reso,vec,  the  chaos  umphs  and  defeats  of  Chiang's  ChirJ 

I  may  return  my  first  shipment  within  7      af|(,r   Napoieon's  defeat,   and  set  up  through  world  war.  civil  war  and  ul 

days,  and  membership  will  be  cancelled.      a   peace   destined   to   last   a   hundred  ternational  upheaval.  List  price  S6.0& 

years.  List  price  $6.00.  . — .     THE  RED  flRMY  Kd  b\  B  H  LiddA 

Name  I — j     MIGHTY  STONEWALL  by   Frank  K. Hart.   The  power  and   potentH 

I I     Vandirer.    What    kind    of    man  of  the  Soviet  war  machine,  explaina 

was  this  military  genius  — who  would  in    full    by    noted    military    experts! 

Address                                                                   not  "fibt  on  Sunday?  List  price  $6.50.  some   who    fought    for    Russia,    sorrl 

(— l      KINGDOM  OF  THE  SAINTS  by  Rav  who  fouKht  against     List  price  S6.M 

I I      West.  Jr.  The  story  of  the  Mor-  ]     RETURN    TO    POWER    by    Alistat 

City Zone mons  —  their  hard-fought  beginnings,      i I     Home      Eye-opening    story    I 

unique    religious    rites,    plural    mar-  Germany's     post-war    "come-back'j 

riages,  and  their  place  in  our  culture  how  it  happened,  why  it  happened  an 

State HA-23      today.  List  price  $6.00.  who  accomplished  it.  List  price  $6.<m 


Bottles  have  changed. . . 

but  never  the  quality  of 


it's  always 
a  pleasure 


OOLD   MEDAL  WHISKEY 


I.W.  HARPER 

PRIZED  KENTUCKY  BOURBON 

TOO  PROOF  BOTTLED  IN  BOND  OR  MILD  86  PROOF 


From  left  to  right:  "DANDY"  Pinch  Bottle,  1900;  "AMBER"  Colorful  Glass,  1880-  "CANTEEN 
G.  A.  R."  Reunion  Souvenir,  1895;  "PEWTER  PITCHER"  Gift  Decanter,  1900-  "COMPANION" 
Long-Necked  Decanter,  1910;  "BAR  BOTTLE"  Ornate  Cut  Glass,  1910;  "DWARF"  Round  Etched 
Decanter.  1885;  "GOLD  MEDAL"  Embossed  Decanter,  1949;  "HARPER'S  OWN"  Ceramic  Jug  1890- 
"LITTLE  COMPANION  "Cut  Glass,  1910;  "NAUTICAL"  Shippers  Tribute  1890-  "THE  AMERICAN" 
Hand-Blown  Flask,  1875;  "CARBOY"  Wicker-Covered,  1880;  "CAMEO"  Cut  Glass  Miniature    1899 

DISTILLED  AND  BOTTLED  BY  I.W.  HARPER  DISTILLING  CO.,  LOUISVILLE    KY' 


J 


This  is  a  picture  of  Graceful  living  .  .  .  why  aren't  you  in  it?  Right  now,  you  could  b 

spending  12  memorable  days  in  the  sunny  Caribbean  with  other  people  wh( 

discovered  that  we  lire  only  once!  They  are  enjoying  the  delightful  Grace  Line  f 

For  Details  See  Your  Travel  Agent  or  .  .  .  „  .  .  . 

Mail  Coupon  Today  for  COLORI^UL_CR_mSE_ FOLDER _  service  on  one  of  the  famous    Santas,     fcvery  room  is  outside,  each  with  pnv 

Outdoor,  tiled  swimming  pools  on  the  "Santas"  are  the  largest  afloat 

The  "Santa  Rosa"  or  "Santa  Paula"  sails  every  Friday  from  New  York  on 

Cruise  visiting  Curacao  and  Aruba  in  the  Netherlands  West  Indies;  Carac; 

Venezuela,  and  Cartagena,  Colombia.  Other  modern  cargo-passenger 

also  sail  weekly  from  New  York  on  Casual  Cruises  of  approximately 

GRACE  LINE 


GRACE  LINE,  3  Hanover  Square,  New  York  4 
Please  send  illustrated  cruise  folder: 

HM-3 

Street    .                 

yfi/ciiN  .in,/  Offices  in  till  Principal  Cities 
Regular,  frequent  American  J-hitj  Vassenget  and  freight  Services  betwe 


the 


/ 


gazine 


im 


A    I 


tl 


\    i 


i 


lAT'S  HAPPENING  TO  IT? 

Nat  Hentoff 


Four  Steps  to  Halt 
the  Slump 

Ross  M.  Robertson 

Country  Doctors 
Catch  Up 

Marion  K.  Sanders 

CIA:  Who  Watches 
the  Watchman? 

Warren  Unna 

V 

Also: 

Joyce  Cary 

Arthur  C.  Clarke 


j 


\ 


y 


the  calm,  sunny  route  to  Europe  is  the  Sunlane  Rout 


You're  hardly  out  of  New  York  when  you 
notice  a  dramatic  change.  The  sea  is  calm, 
the  air  soft,  the  sky  fillet!  with  sunlight. 
Your  big  air-conditioned  Sunliner  (the 
Constitution  or  Independence)  has  swung 
into  the  balmy  Sunlane,  mild -weather 
route  to  the  Mediterranean  and  Europe. 
You  enjoy  golden  hours  on  deck,  soak- 
ing up  the  sun,  playing  deck  games,  or 
swimming  in  the  sparkling  outdoor  pools. 
For  the  children,  wc'\  e  gay,  fully-equipped 


playrooms.  For  you,  elegant  lounges 
and  public  rooms  where  you'll  dance,  go 
to  parties,  be  entertained.  And  for  ocean- 
sharpened  appetites  there's  delicious 
food,   beautifully    prepared    and    served. 


Fare?  Only  $260  in  Tourist  Class,  $ 
in  Cabin  Class,  $J75  in  First  Class  (Si 
mcr  season  rates).  Available  next  Fall.' 
Winter  .  .  .  attractive  three-week  Sunk 
Cruises.  See   your  Travel   Agent  tod 


Constitution  •  Independenc 

flagships  of  American  Export  J^  Lines 


A    HOME-TOWN    BUSINESS 


HE  BELL  SYSTEM  is  nationwide 
et  the  telephone  business  is 
irgely  a  local  business. 

Research,  manufacturing  and  a 
"rtain  amount  of  over-all  direction 
te  handled  centrally  because  experi- 
nce  has  proved  it  is  the  better  way. 

But  the  job  of  serving  people 
ically  is  handled  by  the  operating 
)mpanies  throughout  the  country, 
rganized  to  fit  the  needs  of  the  par- 
cular  sections  they  serve.  Your  Bell 

elephone  Company  is  one  of  these. 

I  It  is  distinctly  a  home-town  busi- 
ess  because  of  the  personal  nature 
:  telephone  service. 

Ninety-five  out  of  every  one  hun- 
red  calls  are  local.  They're  made- 
border  right  on  the  spot.  On  all 
latters  of  service  you  have  the  very 
reat  advantage  of  dealing  directly 

ith  the  company  and  its  people. 

Your  telephone  company  is  man- 
;ed  locally  and  it  pays  taxes  locally. 


TELEPHONE  INSTALLER  visits  a  home-town  family  to  install  color  telephones.  He  and 
his  truck  are  familiar  sights  around  town.  Courtesy  rides  with  him  wherever  he  goes. 


You  probably  know  men  and  women 
in  your  town  who  work  for  it  and 
have  seen  and  heard  of  their  active 
part  in  the  welfare  of  the  community. 
Local  people  have  an  investment  in 
the  business  through  their  ownership 
of  A.  T.  &  T.  stock. 

Wherever  there  are  new  tele- 
phone buildings  going  up,  or  jobs 


of  maintenance,  there  are  jobs  for 
local  builders,  architects,  painters, 
carpenters,  plumbers,  electricians  and 
many  others. 

So  the  Bell  Telephone  Company 
isn't  something  far  away  but  close  to 
you  wherever  you  live  and  a  friendly, 
helpful  part  of  the  community.  That 
is  the  way  you'd  like  it  to  be  and  we 
trv  verv  hard  to  run  it  that  wav. 


BELL    TELEPHONE     SYSTEM 


HARPER     &     BROTHERS 
PUBLISHERS 

Chairman  of  the  Executive 

Committee:   c iass    I  wiiild 

Chairman  of  the  Board: 

I  R  \\K    s.    MACGRF.GOR 

President  and  Treasurer: 

RAYMOND  C.   HARWOOD 

/  ii  i ■-!')  esidents: 

EDWARD  J.  TYLER,    JR.. 

]  I  (.1  \I     I  \\l  \\.  <>KI>U  \Y   TEAT), 

DANIEL  F.   BRADLEY 

Assistant  In  the  Publisher 

and  Circulation  Director: 

JOHN    JAY    HUGH)  S 

EDITORIAL     STAFF 

Editor  in  Chief:  JOHN  FISCHER 
Managing  Editoi :  ri  ssb  i  i  lynes 

Editors: 

KATHERINE  GAI  SS    [ACKSON 

ERIC  LARRABEI 

CATHARIN1     \U  \  IK 

\N\F  G.  FREEDGOOD 

ROBERT   B.   SILVERS 

Editorial  Secretary:  rose  daly 
Editorial  Assistant: 

LUCY  DONALDSON 


Haroerl 


MAGA 


ZINE® 


APRIL     1938 


vol.  216,  no.   1295 


ARTICLES 

25     What's  Happening  to  Jazz,  Nat  Hentoff 
Drawings  by  Hurt  Goldblatt 

33  Thk  Work  Ci  re  for  Women,  Lorna  Jean  King 
Drawing  by  Anne  Cleveland 

34  Foi  R  Steps  to  Halt  the  Slump— And  Avoid  Another, 
Ross  M.   Robertson 

40     Country  Doctors  Catch  Up,  Marion  K.  Sanders 
Drawings  by   lit    Volk 

46     CIA:  Who  Watches  the  Watchman?  Warren  Unna 

54     Standing  Room  Only,  Arthur  C.  Clarke 
Drawing  by  Tomi  Ungerer 

58     Stars  Forming,  Burning,  and  Dying,  Part  II  of  New 

Discoveries  About   the  Cosmos,  George  W.  Gray 
Cartoon  by  Robert  Day 

69     The  English  Disease,  Norman  MacKenzie 
Cartoon  by  Perry  Bin  low 

73     Math  Even  Parents  Can  Understand,  Peter  F.  Drucker 


ADVERTISING  DATA:  consult 

Harper-Atlantic  Sales.  Inc. 

49  East  33rd  Street,  New  York  16.  N.  Y. 

Telephone  MUrray  Hill  3-5225. 

harper's  macazine  issue  for 

Apr.  1958.    Vol.  216.    Serial  No.  1295. 

Copyright©  1958  by  Harper  &  Brothers 

in  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain. 

All  rights,  including  translation  into 

other  languages,  reserved  by  the 

Publisher   in   the   United    States,   Great 

Britain,  Mexico  and  all  countries 

participating  in  the  International 

Copyright  Convention  and  the 

Pan-American  Copyright  Convention. 

Published   monthly  by   Harper  & 

Brothers,  49  East  33rd  St.,  New  York  16. 

N.Y.  Composed  and  printed  in  the  U.S.A. 

by  union  labor  by  the  Williams  Press, 

99-129  North  Broadway,  Albany,  N.  Y. 

Entered  as  second-class   matter  at 

the  post  office  at  Albany.  N.  Y., 

under  the  Act  of  March  3,  1879. 

subscription  rates:  600  per  copy; 

$6.00  one  year;  $11.00  two  years; 

$15.00  three  years.    Foreign   postage — 

except  Canada  and  Pan  America — 

$1.50   per   year   additional. 

CHANCE   OF   ADDRESS:    Si\    weeks' 

advance  notice,  and  old   address  as 

well  as  new,  are  necessary. 

Address  all   correspondence   relating 

to  subscriptions  to:  Subscription  Dept., 

49  East  33rd  St.,  New  York  16.  N.  Y. 


FICTION 

65     Happy  Marriage,  Joyce  Gary 
Drawings   by  Alan   Cober 

VERSE 

38     Platform  Before  the  Castle,  Anne  Goodwin  Winslow 
57     Return  of  the  Native,  James  Rorty 

DEPARTMENTS 

6     Letters 

12     The  Easy  Chair— A  Combat  Veteran  Sounds  Off, 
Colonel  E.  B.  Crabill 

Drawing  by  Tomi  Ungerer 

20     Personal  &  Otherwise:  Among  Our  Contributors 

80     After  Hours,  Mr.   Harper  and  Waverley  Root 
Drawings  by  N.  M.  Bodecker 

84     The  New  Books,  Paul  Pickrel 

94     Books  in  Brief,  Katherine  Gauss  Jackson 

100     The  New  Recordings,  Edward  Tatnall  Canby 

COVER  by  Burt  Goldblatt 


Tt 
he 

Oxford 

Universal 
Dictionary 

-D  EDITION 
SED  WITH 
)DENDA 


OXFORD 


THE  OXFORD  UNIVERSAL  DICTIONARY 

25K5  pages    •    "The  best  English  dictionary 

THE  NEW  ILLUSTRATED  EDITION  OF  THE  COLUMBIA   ENCYCLOPEDIA 

Compiled  at  Columbia  University   .   2302  pages  RETAIL  PRICE  $35.00 

CHURCHILL'S  THE  SECOND  WORLD  WAR  retail  price  i 

All  six  volumes  of  Sir  Winston's  epic  histo 


:;''i'.'.--~ 


OF  THESE  SETS  /Z-„„  ,n.,nu 

OR  VALUABLE  REFERENCE  WORKS    \^AV\K/W  TU     jUW 


BY  THE  BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB  WITH  THE  FIRST  BOOK  YOU  BUY  AS  A 
MEMBER  IF  YOU  AGREE  TO  BUY  FIVE  ADDITIONAL  BOOKS  DURING  THE  NEXT  YEAR 


GOOD  SENSE -A  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION:  There 
are  at  least  three  benefits  of  membership  in  the  Book-of-the- 
Month  Club  that  are  beyond  question.  First,  you  get  the  books 
you  want  to  read  instead  of  missing  them  through  overbusyness 
or  procrastination— books  such  as  By  Love  Possessed  by  James 
j  Gould  Cozzens,  and  other  examples  listed  in  the  coupon.  Sec- 
ond, you  pay  an  average  of  20%  less  for  them  than  otherwise. 
Third,  you  share  in  more  than  $13,000,000  worth  of  free  books 
(retail  value)  now  distributed  annually  as  Book-Dividends. 
| This  offer  really  represents  "advanced"  Book-Dividends  earned 
by  the  purchase  of  the  books  you  engage  to  buy  later. 

pr*  The  books  you  agree  to  buy  later  can  be  chosen 
jfrom  approximately  200  Selections  and  Alternates 
|  made  available  during  the  year. 

j^K  Each  month  you  receive  a  full  and  careful  report 
|  about  the  next  Book-of-the-Month.  If  you  judge  it  is  a 
ibook  you  would  not  enjoy,  you  may  send  back  a  form 
(always  provided)  specifying  some  other  book.  Or  you 
'may  simply  say,     Send  me  nothing. 

-^  If  you  continue  after  this  trial,  you  will  receive  a 
Book-Dividend,  averaging  almost  $7  in  retail  value, 
with  every  second  book  you  buy. 

|>K  Immediate  acceptance  is  advisable  if  you  are  inter- 
ested in  any  particular  set  or  volume. 


BEGIN   MEMBERSHIP   WITH   ANY   OF  THESE   BOOKS 


□   BY   LOVE   POSSESSED 
by  James  Gould  Cozzens 
Price  (to  members  only)  JS.95 
|  THE   NEW  CLASS     by  Milovan  Djilas  $3.95 

□  ANATOMY  OF   A   MURDER 
by  Robert  Traver 
Price  (to    numbers,  only)  S3. 9.5 


□ 
~~ ]    FIRST    BLOOD 

□    ' 


□ 


□ 


THE   WINTHBOP   WOMAN 


MR.     BARUCH 


PLEASE    DON'T    EAT   THE    DAISIES 

by  Jean  Kerr  $3.50 
by  W.  A.  Swanberg 
Price  do  member*  only)  $$.50 
'WHERE    DID   YOU    GO?"    "OUT." 
WHAT  DID  YOU   DO?"    "NOTHING." 

by  Robert  Paul  Smith  $2.95 

□  ALARMS   AND    DIVERSIONS 
by  James  Thnrber 
Price   (to  members  only)  $3.95 

□   BELOW   THE    SALT 
by  Thomas  B.  Costain  $3.95 
|  THE   FBI    STORY      by  Don  Whitehead  $i, 95 
—    LETTER    FROM    PEKING 


U 


Pearl  : 


Buck  $.?.: 


BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB,  Inc.,  345   Hudson  Street,  New  York  14,  N.  Y.  A34 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  member  of  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club*  and  send.  free, 
the  work  I  have  indicated  below  with  the  purchase  of  my  first  selection,  indicated 
above.  I  agree  to  purchase  at  least  five  additional  monthly  Selections-  or  Alter- 
nates— during  the  first  year  I  am  a  member.  Thereafter  I  need  buy  only  four 
such  books  in  any  twelve-month  period  to  maintain  membership.  I  have  the 
right  to  cancel  my  membership  any  time  after  buying  six  Club  choices.  After 
my  sixth  purchase,  if  I  continue,  I  am  to  receive  a  Book-Dividend  with  every 
second  Selection — or  Alternate — I  buy.  (A  small  charge  is  added  to  cover  postage 
and  mailing  expenses.) 

PLEASE  NOTE:  A  "Double  Selection"— or  a  set  of  books  offered  to  mem- 
bers at  a  special  combined  price— is  counted  as  a  sinqle  book  in  reckon- 
ing Book- Dividend  credit,  and  in  fulfilling  the  membership  obligation. 
PLEASE   SEND  ME,   WITH   IMY   FIRST   PURCHASE   SPECIFIED  ABOVE 


ets  illustrated  above) 


Mr.    ) 

Mrs.  [•  .. 
Miss  I 
Address. 


(Please  print  plainly) 


Zone  No State 

bers   arc    priced    slifclitly    higher,    are    shipped    fn 
ay  be  paid  for  In  either  U.S.   or  Canadian   curreni 


"Trademark  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off.  and  in  Canada 


To  Introduce  You  to  the  New  I 

rca Victor  popular 


ANY  FIVE  :  OF  THESE  18  ALBUMS 


FOR  ONLY  $3 

...  If  you  agree  to  buy  five  albums  from 
the  Club  during  the  next  twelve  months 
from  at  least  65  to   be   made  available 


This  exciting  new  plan,  under  the  direction  of  the  Book-of- 
the-Month  Cluh,  enables  you  lo  have  on  tap  a  variety  of 
popular  music  for  family  fun  and  happier  parties  .  .  .  and  at 
an  immense  saving.  Moreover,  once  and  for  all,  it  takes 
bewilderment  out  of  building  such  a  welbbalanced  collection. 

YOU  PAY  FAR  LESS  FOR  ALBUMS  THIS  WAY— than  if 
you  buy  them  haphazardly.  For  example,  the  extraordinary 
introductory  offer  described  above  can  represent  as  much  as 
a  40%  saving  in  your  first  year  of  membership. 

THEREAFTER  YOU  SAVE  ALMOST  33y3%.  After  buying 
the  five  albums  called  for  in  this  offer,  you  will  receive  a  free 
12-inch  33' 3  R.P.M.  album  with  a  retail  price  of  at  least  $3.98, 
for  every  two  albums  purchased  from  the  Cluh. 

A  WIDE  CHOICE  OF  RCA  VICTOR  ALBUMS  will  be 
described  each  month.  One  will  be  singled  out  as  the  album- 
of-the-month.  If  vou  want  it,  you  do  nothing;  it  will  come  to 
you  automatically.  If  you  prefer  one  of  the  alternates — or 
nothing  at  all  in  any  month — you  can  make  your  wishes  known 
on  a  simple  form  always  provided.  You  pay  the  nationally 
advertised  price — usually  $3.98,  at  times  $4.98  (plus  a  small 
mailing  charge). 

SINGING    STARS  •   DANCE   MUSIC  •   MOOD    MUSIC  •   SONIC    SPECIALTIES 
BROADWAY   AND    MOVIE    MUSICALS    •    JAZZ     •    COLLECTORS'    ITEMS 


[RETAIL  VALUE  AS  HIGH  AS  $24.90 


LENA  HORNE  [rcaVicto, 

RICARDO  MONTALBAN 

Jamaica 


AN  ORIGINAL  CAST  ALBUM  OF  THE 
BROADWAY  HIT  MUSICAL  COMEDY 


DAVID  MERRICK 


E.  Y.  HARBURG  *  FRED  SAIDY 


HAROLD  ARLCN 


L-ifc 


*  it 


Frankie   ' 
Carle's 

Sweethearts  ,™  ^\ 


owHAVANAom 


M.BUM  CLUB 


rca  Victor  LgS%. 

PERRY  COMO:  WE  GET  LETTERS 


to 

NGS 


LET'S              RCA  Victor  L^f£j 
DANCE  ; 

WITH 

THE 
THREE 

SUNS 


f*kff  ■(&&* 


Belafonte 


Moods  in  Music 


Music  for  Diniftg 


Family  »"v"H 
All  Together 


rca Victor  ^5%j 

HUGO  WINTERHALTER 


!    BING  WITH  A  BEAT      Rca  Victor  L» 

BING  CROSBYwlth 

BOB  SCOBEY'S  Frltco  Jazz  Band 


THE 

MELACHRINO  STRINGS 


BOSTON   POPS  — FIEDLER 


the  eyes 
of  love . 


ALL  ALBUMS  ARE 

12-INCH,  33'/3  R.P.M. 

LONG-PLAYING 


Bulb 

MARY  MARTIN      ! 

*&$&£ 

y^Tnk 

CYjJn.  RV 

CHARD 

s 

HECK   THE   FIVE   ALBUMS    YOU    WANT.    DO    NOT    DETACH    FROM   THE    COUPON 


WE  GET  LETTERS  Perry 
sings  12  standards: 
V,  'Deed  1  Do,  etc. 


BELAFONTE     Scarlet 
jobs,    Matilda.     Water- 
to    more.    Folk    songs, 
ids,  spirituals. 

0  FRANKIE  CARLE'S 
J  EETHEARTS  Dancy 
jjho,  rhythm,  on  12 
Jl"  songs:  Nola,  Laura, 
ty'ia,  etc. 

[jNEW  GLENN  MILLER 
C   HESTRA   IN  HI   Fl    Ray 

tti  .Inley,  Lullabv  of  Bird- 
1<  ,  On  the  Street  Where 
»j  Uve.  12  dance  items. 

rjlRASS    AND    PERCUS- 

s  H  Morton  Gould  Sym- 
W  '1c  Band,  hi-fi  show- 
■  17  marches,  with  8 
■  ousa's  best.  Others  by 
Ji  man,  Gould. 

[JIAMAICA   Original 

B'  idway  cast,  starring 
u'  Home.  Complete  Ar- 
3  iarburg  hit  score. 


D  MARIO  LANZA — STU- 
DENT PRINCE  Hits  from 
Romberg's  operetta,  plus 
Lehar,  Rodgers  gems,  etc. 
14  favorites  by  the  exciting 
tenor. 

□  BING     WITH     A    BEAT 

A  Crosby  jazz  lark  with 
Bob  Scobey.  Whispering,  Ex- 
actly Like  You,  10  more 
old-time  evergreens. 

|~1  TOWN  HALL  CONCERT 

PLUS  Louis  Armstrong  col- 
lectors' item,  with  Tea- 
garden,  Bigard.  Hodges, 
Hackett,  etc. 

□  LET'S  DANCE  WITH 
THE  THREE  SUNS  Forty 
show  tunes,  standards  In 
"society"  dance  medleys. 

□  SHORTY  ROGERS  PLAYS 
RICHARD  RODGERS  Mod- 
ern Jazz  by  combo  and  big 
band.  Stars  Giuftre,  Per- 
kins,  etc. 

D  THE  FAMILY  ALL  TO- 
GETHER Fiedler,  Boston 
Pops,  light  classics:  Ravel's 
Bolero,  Clair  de  Lune,  etc. 


Jl   MUSIC     FOR     DINING 

Melachrino  Strings  in  hi- 
fi  mood  music.  Tenderly, 
September  Song,  Char- 
maine,  etc. 

D  PETER  PAN  Original 
Broadway,     TV     cast     and 

score.  Mary  Martin,  Cyril 
Ritchard,  etc. 

□  BOUQUET     OF     BLUES 

Dinah  Shore  torch  songs. 
Blues  in  the  Night.  St. 
Louis    Blues,     10    others, 

□  SWEET     SEVENTEEN 

Ames  Brothers  in  12  stand- 
ards. Little  White  Lies,  1 
Don't  Know  Why.  For  Sen- 
timental Reasons,  etc. 

□  THE  HEART  OF  HA- 
VANA Authentic  Cuban 
cha-cha-chas  by  Orquesta 
Aragon.  Ideal  dance 
rhythms,    native  color. 

□  THE     EYES     OF     LOVE 

Hugo  Winterhalter's  lush 
orchestra  in  12  standards: 
Smoke  Gets  in  Your  Eyes, 
I  Only  Have  Eyes  1or  You, 
etc. 


P3-4 


RCA    VICTOR    POPULAR    ALBUM    CLUB 

c/o  Book-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc. 

345  Hudson  Street,  New  York  14,  N.  Y. 

Please  register  me  as  a  member  of  the  ncA  Victor  Popular  Album 
Club  and  send  me  the  five  albums  I  have  checked  at  left,  for  which 
I  will  pay  S3. 98,  plus  a  small  mailing  charge.  I  agree  to  buy  five 
other  albums  offered  by  the  Club  within  the  next  twelve  months,  for 
each  of  which  I  will  be  billed  at  the  nationally  advertised  price, 
which  is  usually  $3.98,  at  times  $4.98  (plus  a  small  mailing  charge). 
Thereafter,  if  I  continue,  for  every  two  albums  I  buy  I  will  be 
allowed  to  choose  a  third  album,  free.  After  the  first  year,  I  need  buy 
only  four  albums  in  any  twelve-month  period  to  maintain  membership. 


Nan 


Addrest 
City 


.Zone 


.State. 


NOTE:  If  you  wish  to  enroll  through  an  authorized  RCA  VICTOR  dealer,  please  fill  in  here: 

Dealer's  Name 

Address 

City 


.Zone. 


.State. 


Send  no  money.  A  bill  will  be  sent. 


CHOICE  OF  ALL       LETTER  S 

Europe 


8  exciting  lands,  4  popular  ships 


•  NORTH    ATLANTIC 

15  new  public  rooms  on  the  "NEW 
YORK"  .  .  .  same  fine  tourist  service  on 
the  "COLUMBIA"  and  "ARCADIA",  latest 
addition  to  the  Greek  Line  fleet.  From 
New  York,  Boston,  Canada  to 

IRELAND  •  ENGLAND  •  FRANCE  •  GERMANY 


•  MEDITERRANEAN 


Cruise    liner    "OLYMPIA",    16    public 
rooms,  many  2   berth   staterooms  with 
private  shower  and  toilet  at  low  Tourist 
rates,  from  New  York  and  Boston  to 
PORTUGAL   •   ITALY   •   SICILY   •   GREECE 


See  Your  Travel  Agent 


Go    One    Route    .    .    .    Return    the    Other    by 

GREEK  LINE 

NEW  YORK  •   BOSTON  •   CLEVELAND 

CHICAGO  •   LOS  ANGELES  •   SAN  FRANCISCO 

TORONTO  •   MONTREAL 


Helper  or  Huckster? 

To  mi    1  m  roRS: 

Martin  Mayer's  "Whal  Is  Advertising 
Good  For?"  [February]  is  the  most  real- 
istic ioik  ist  summary  ol  the  so<  ial  and 
economic  aspe(  ts  to  appeal  in  print  in 
many  a  moon,  [and  I  speak  as]  a  uni- 
versity professoi  who  spent  eighteen 
years  in  the  advertising  field.  .  .  . 

I  he  added  value  hypothesis  Mr. 
Mayet  advances  receives  considerable 
support  .  .  .  from  the  basic  concepts 
suggested  l>\  less  traditional  economists 
and  social  psychologists.  Galbraith's 
ideas  on  market  concentration  and  "the 
unseemly  economics  ol  opulence,"  for 
example.  And  Cantril's  concepts  <>1 
"value  attributes"  and  •value  judg- 
ments" .  .  . 

Daniei    S.  Warner 
Eugene.   Ore. 

In  Ins  article  Mi.  Mayer  suggests  as 
his  own  a  new  theory  ol  advertising,  eg. 
that  advertising  adds  value  to  prod- 
ucts. .  .  . 

I  think  von  and  Mr.  Mayer  should 
know  the   following  facts: 

that  I  developed  this  theory  and  put 
it  in  writing  in  1949  in  a  paper  .  .  . 
at    Columbia    University;    .    .    . 

That  the  theory  was  further  elabo- 
rated upon,  detailed,  and  published  in 
a  foui -part  copyrighted  article  that  ap- 
peared in  Connecticut  Industry  in  1954; 

That  the  theory  was  described  ...  in 
my  book,  Advertising  to  Business,  pub- 
lished ...  in  April    1957; 

I  hat  during  the  period  1949-57  in  a 
number  of  speeches  delivered  below 
various  business  groups  ...  I  expounded 
this   theory   in   some   detail; 

That  also,  during  this  period,  mime- 
ographed copies  of  the  exposition  .  .  . 
were  circulated  to  various  advertising 
practitioners  .  .  .  and  advertising  or- 
ganizations. .  .  . 

Roland  B.  Smith 

University  of  Conn. 

Storrs,  Conn. 

.  .  .  The  most  significant  contributions 
in  the  development  ol  the  "value  added" 
concept  are  the  work  of  Professor  Theo- 
dore N.  Reckman  at  Ohio  State  Uni- 
versity. I  myself  have  spent  a  good  deal 
of  time— and  incidentally  some  of  my 
own  money— developing  and  publicizing 


this  concept.    I  mi  sure    there  are  otl 
.   .    .   who   have    written,    lectured, 
talked  about  this  "suggestion  for  a 
theory  ol  advertising."  .  .  • 

1 1  \RC)I  t»    W< 
New   Yolk.    \ 

\s  it  happens,  I  did  not  run  into 
work    of    Messrs.     Beckman,    Smith. 
Wolf]  dm  ing  the  course  ol  m\  resea 
.Hid  tin    dozen  oi    mote  leading  pr 
ii, ,ii.  rs  oi    the   trade  who  read   m\    1: 
in  manuscript   or  galley    prool   had 
inn  into  it  either.    I  gladly  yield  pi 
dence  to  thou.    In   fact,    1   susped 
the    b.isie    concept    here    ma.)    go 
further   back,   because  the  idea   is  •] 
a    convenient    one    to   explain    the 
nomic   phenomenon  known  as  "subs 
lion  at  the-  margin,"  without  depa 
from    the   reference    frame    ol    elas 
,  ,  onomics.     But   the  idea  had  not   ] 
into   the   thought   ol    either   the   adv 
ing  business  or  the  academic   eomm 
as  a   whole,   and   a  cpiite  extensive  l 
ing  and  intei  v  iewing  program  Eaile 
turn    it    up.     Since    1    could    find    nol 
to    whom    I    could    credit    it    (and    j 
reportei    I   would   always   rather   cJ 
somebody  with  whom  I  agree  than  I 
pound  my  own  views).  I  took  its  exl 
ti,,ii   upon  myself.    You  will  recall  I 
I  did  so  "with  some  diffidence.'" 

Martin  Ml 
New  York.   IN 


I 


.  .  .  When   Madison  Avenue  ach 
ing  has  any  effect  at  all  it  usually  / 
the  standard  ol   living.  .  .  .  When  a 
tising  encourages  a   person  to  put 
an  article  he  would  not  have  purer! 
if  he  had  been  given  accurate  infel 
tion  instead  ol  deceptive  persuasiol 
lowers  his  standard  of  living.   A  stall 
of    living    is    not    based    on    how     1 
dollars   a   person    spends   but   rathcB 
the   goods   and   services  he   buys   vfl 
best  serve  his  particular  needs.  .  .  I 
William  H.  B« 
Milwaukee,  I 

.  .  .  This  is  the  first  article  I  ve  1 

outside  ol   the   industry's  own   magatl 
which      wasn't      motivated       by 
malice.  .  .  .  Benjamin  J.  Wai-J 

New  York,   i 

Mr.  Mayer  is  undoubtedly  corre 
his    contention     that    advertising 
"values"  to  merchandise.    But  his  l>| 
assumption   that   the   additives  are| 
erallv   pleasant   and   harmless   is   pi 
terous.  .  .  . 

Filter-tip  advertising  gives  the  sn« 


AND... Canada's  only  stainless-steel  Scenic  Dome  streamliner,  "The 
ian,"  moves  under  smooth  diesel  power  for  2,881  miles  across  Canada, 
lg  its  way  through  beautiful  Bow  River  Valley  in  the  heart  of  the 
y  Canadian   Rockies  on  the   spectacular   Banff-Lake   Louise  Route. 


Canadian  Pacific 

offers  a  world  of  service 

by  land  ...  by  sea ...  by  air 

From  an  ever-expanding  Canada,  the  world's  greatest 
travel  system  today  reaches  out  to  connect  five  conti- 
nents with  a  72,000-mile  network  of  land,  sea  and  air 
routes.  You  can  travel  smoothly  and  swiftly  across 
Canada  on  "The  Canadian"  along  the  world's  longest 
Scenic  Dome  Route.  You  can  sail  the  scenic  St.  Lawrence 
River  Route  to  Europe  and  cruise  to  tropic  waters  on 
new  "White  Empress"  luxury  liners.  You  can  fly  to  the 
Orient,  South  America,  the  South  Pacific  and  Europe 
on  fast,  modern  airliners.  And  you  can  enjoy  magnifi- 
cent metropolitan  hotels  and  luxury  resorts  across 
Canada.  To  enjoy  travel  at  its  best,  today  and  tomorrow, 
look  first  to  Canadian  Pacific  for  a  world  of  service! 


../ 


'EA...New  sleek  "White  Empresses"  sail  one 
I  if  the  way  to  Europe  along  the  sheltered  St. 
Lice  River  "Landscape  Route."  These  25,500-ton 
I  liners  offer  travelers  the  spacious,  modern  ocean- 
|  accommodations  with  superb  shipboard  service. 

JR...  New  jet-age  "Britannias,"  world's  largest, 
!  quietest  jet-prop  airliners,  will  soon  be  in  direct 
|  between  Canada  and  Europe,  the  Orient,  Hawaii, 
|  ia,  New  Zealand,  Mexico,  and  South  America. 


World's  Greatest  Travel  System 

Iways    •   Steamships    •    Airlines    •    Hotel 
Communications    •    Express 


8 

Why  two  incomes 
are  better  than  one 

If  you  haven't  yet  tasted  the  pleasure  of 
a  second  income,  there  may  be  a  happy 
experience  in  store  for  you.  It's  an  ex- 
perience that's  being  shared  by  more 
and  more  people. 

The  second  income  we  have  in  mind  is 
the  sort  that  may  roll  merrily  on  for  a 
lifetime. 

It  conies  from  dividends  on  common 
stock.  When  you  own  stock,  you  are  part- 
owner  of  a  company.  As  an  owner,  you 
can  share  in  any  profits  through  divi- 
dends. And  if  the  business  grows,  your 
investment  can  grow. 
You've  heard,  we  hope,  that  when  you 
buy  stock  it's  important  to  use  your 
head.  A  company  may  not  pay  a  divi- 
dend, may  not  make  a  profit,  may  even 
go  backwards  in  our  competitive  econ- 
omy. Stock  prices  go  down  as  well  as  up. 
So  when  you  invest,  use  only  money  left 
over  after  living  expenses  are  paid  and 
emergencies  provided  for.  Then  get  the 
facts  — never  depend  on  tips  or  rumors. 

Helpful  information  to  start 

Our  handy  free  booklet,  "dividends 
over  the  YEARS,"  is  packed  with  useful 
information  about  investing,  including 
the  records  of  more  than  300  stocks  on 
the  New  York  Stock  Exchange,  that 
have  paid  dividends  every  year  without 
exception  from  25  to  109  years.  It  also 
describes  the  Monthly  Investment  Plan 
through  which  you  can  invest  in  the 
stock  of  some  of  America's  greatest 
companies  for  as  little  as  $40  every 
three  months  up  to  $1000  a  month.  Two 
out  of  three  shareowners  have  incomes 
under  $7500  a  year.  Many  are  using 
this  convenient  Plan  to  invest  regularly. 
If  you  haven't  yet  had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  a  broker,  remedy  the  matter 
right  away.  Drop  in  for  a  chat— making 
sure  you  choose  a  broker  in  a  Member 
Firm  of  the  New  York  Stock  Exchange. 
You'll  get  a  cordial  welcome  there,  and 
a  lot  of  friendly  help.  Your  broker  will 
help  you  work  out  a  sensible  investment 
program,  help  you  buy  or  sell.  Perhaps 
he'll  think  bonds  may  be  better  for  you 
than  stocks.  Ask  him.  And  be  sure  to 
ask  him  occasionally  to  review  your 
holding  with  you. 

A  free  copy  of  "dividends  over  the 
years"  is  waiting  for  you  to  claim  it. 
If  you  agree  that  two  incomes  are  better 
than  one,  whip  out  a  pencil  and  send  the 
coupon  before  you  turn  the  page. 

Own  your  share  of  American  business 

Members  New  York 
Stock  Exchange 

or  offices  of  Members  nearest  you,  look  under  New 
ork  Stock  Exchange  in  the  stock  broker  section  of 
your  classified  telephone  directory. 

Send  for  new  free  booklet.  Mail  to 
your  local  Member  Firm  of  the  Stock 
Exchange,  or  to  the  New  York  Stock 
Exchange,  Dept.  A-58,  P.  O.  Box  252, 
New  York  5,  N.  Y. 

Please  send  me,  free,  "dividends  over 
the  YEARS  — a  basic  guide  for  common 
stock    investment." 


LETTERS 


BROKER,  IF  ANY- 


the  assurance  thai  he  is  safeguarding 
his  health,  although  the  evidence  thai 
filters  i  edu<  e  the  in<  idem  e  "I  <  an<  ei 
and  heai  i  disease  is  nil.  .  .  . 

Rei  enl  auto  ads  have  pei  suaded  mil- 
lions ni  (.ii  buyers  thai  the}  are  very 
modern  and  very  sophisticated.  lh<\ 
have  also  conveyed  the  impression  thai 
the  long,  low  models  may  be  driven 
around    curves    ai    sevent)     m.p.h.,    al-' 

though  1 1 1<  \  allow  less  road  visibility 
I  he       values"    added     Inn      mi  hide    not 

onl\  a  mass  spiritual  lilt  but  the  in- 
stallation ol  thousands  oi  human  beings 
in   wheel  (  hail  s  .iwd  c  emetei  ies.   .   .  . 

Victor    Fox 
New  York,  N.  V. 

The  laurel  to  Ro\  Mi  K.ie  foi  the 
February  cover.  |usi  a  wan  smile  for 
Martin  Mayei  and  his  attempt  to  mas 
termind  an  alibi  for  the  hucksters. 

A.  F.  Gegan 
Albany.    Calif. 

Super  a  pes  and  Cats 

I  o    tin     Editors: 

Conceptually  there  seems  to  be  little 
wrong  with  Arthur  ('..  Clarke's  proposal 
to  use  well-bred  chimpanzees  as  streel 
cleaners  and  cotton  pi<  kers  ["Our  Dumb 
Colleagues,"  February].  I  understand 
that  technology  has  not  yet  solved  the 
problem  ol  automatically  fillin»  olive 
and  pickle  jars  with  the  maximum 
amount  ol  these  condiments.  With  Mr. 
Clarke's  contribution  some  Heinz-sight 
could   be  applied   to  this  problem.   .   .   . 

Given  man's  insatiable  desire  for 
power,  certain  consequences  can  be  pre- 
dicted: (1)  racketeers  will  start  employ- 
ing gorillas  (obviously);  (2)  the  AFL  CIO 
will  become  AFL-CIO-APE  and  the 
\\\I  will  pointedly  change  its  name 
to  the  MAN  (a  better  public  image); 
(3)  some  zealous  evangelist  will  inevita- 
bly try  to  teach  these  almost  human  la- 
borers the  Word  .\i\(\  save  their  souls: 
M)  America's  answer  to  Sputnik  in  the 
field  of  education,  and  the  longest  lived 
contestant  on  the  S64.000  Question,  will 
be    J.  Fred  Smugg,  Ph.D. 

Please  excuse  me.  I  hear  my  master 
coming  up  the  walk. 

Herbert  N.  Hersh 
Skokie,  III. 

...  Aside  from  the  enormity  of  un- 
employment trained  baboons  would 
create— I  can  picture  nearly  everyone's 
being  replaced— the  greatest  drawback  is, 
as  Mr.  Clarke  pointed  out,  the  bullying 
they  might  undergo  from  those  speci- 
mens of  Homo  sapiens  who  consider 
(I  would  say  "suspect")  themselves  to 
be  higher  on  the  evolutionary  ladder. 
Still  this  might  work  for  the  real  good 
of  man.    In  those  sections  where  there  is 


:i 


i  ai  lal  disc  i  imination,  attention  would 
diverted  from  the  underdog  to  the  sup 
ape  who  would  provide  tin-  necesi 
outlet  lor  the  superiority  craving* 
course,  there  is  always  the  danger 
interman  iagi  .  Mrs.   id.  rJ 

I  fppei   Monti  lair.  N. 

In  his  provocative  artic  le,  Mr.  CI 

mentions  as  trainable  for  gainful   w 
monkeys,    dogs,    cheetahs,    falcons, 
phants,  horses,  \aks,  pit-tailed  macaq 
chimpanzees,  gorillas,  and  baboons. 

I  In  forgotten  animal  in  Mr.  Claj 
198  I  ish  vii  ici\  is  the  cat.  .  .  .  Cat  pa 
would  be  useless  for  routine  chores 
less  these  were  to  the  cat's  advantj 
Howevei  I  believe  the  cat  would  be' 
ideal  overseer.  I  le  has  authority  in  J 
bearing.  He  is  well  able  to  defend  hi 
self,  lie-  is  incorruptible  and  allows! 
opinion  but  his  own.  His  natural  cJ 
osit\  would  lead  him  instinctively  to  J 
trouble  spots,  and  he  has  perfected  I 
ability  to  sleep  with  one  eye  ope.n  I 
developments.  No  other  animal  I 
watch  others  work  with  such  concern 
tion,  such  deadly  objectivity.  He  is  ;j 
Brother  personified— indeed  some  of 
mote  hirsute  posters  of  Soviet  leac 
have  a  (lc(  idedly  feline  <  ast. 

The   onh    snag    ...    is    that    the    | 
being   an   opportunist,    might    slip   b 
into  his  old  position  as  a  god,  and  til 
where  would  we  be?   All  mankind  wo 
share    the    slavery    now    limited    to 
owners.  Helen  Lillie  MarvJ 

New  York,  N1 

Wal 

To  the  Editors: 

\ubrey  Goodman's  story,  "Wal 
[January],  is  extraordinarily  well  v. 
ten.  .  .  . 

The  best  thing  about  it  is  its  txi 
Waldo  exists.  Not  as  one  person, 
tai nly.  but  in  the  colorful  moment' 
young  men  all  over  America.  One  1: 
knew  at  Yale  flew  to  Beverly  Hills 
the  weekend,  dated  Eva  Gabor,  and 
back  in  time  for  Monday  mon 
classes.  Waldo.  Another,  at  Princei 
demanded  entrance  once  to  his  friei 
quarters  and,  when  told  they  were  cr 
ming  for  final  exams,  said.  "Open  u] 
I'll  shoot."  They  refused,  and  lie 
(after  carefully  checking  through 
keyhole  that  no  one  stood  in  the  wa 
his  impressively  real  bullets).  W 
Waldo  was  drafted,  he  was  the  < 
trainee  at  Fort  Dix  who  stood  in 
for  physical  examination  in  m< 
grammed  undershorts.  I  shall  never 
get  the  night  he  attempted  to  ste< 
dinosaur  from  the  Los  Angeles  Muse 
or  the  morning  he  took  three  final  ex 
in  courses  outside  his  field  of  stui 
just  for  fun— weeks  later  back  came 


tie 


...ANY  3 


of  these  superb]  High-Fidelity 


12"  COLUMBIA©  RECORDS 

If  you  join  the  Columbia  ©  Record  Club  now— and  agree  to  purchase  4  selections  during  the  coming  12  months 


OAITE    PARISIENNE 
LES    SYLPHIDBS 


PORTS  OF  CALL 

RAVEL:  BOLERO.  LA  VALSE,  PAVANE 

CHABRIER:  ESPANA-IBERT:  ESCALES 

DEBUSSY:  CLAIR  DE  LUNE 


*dh 


most  highly-praised 
orded  performance  of 
h's  monumental  work 


£s  of  The  Philadelphia  Orchestra  | 

Eugene  Ormandy 


Two  delightful  and  ro- 
mantic ballet  scores  by 
Offenbach    and    Chopin 


A  romantic  musical  tour 
-Ormandy  and  The  Phil- 
adelphia Orchestra 


MOZART 
REQUIEM 

I  t  J§"^  omjNO  WALTBR 

'     SW"      XEW  YQfiK  PHUHARWOHiC 
1%W                  WESl»th5T£R  CHOIR 

1 

mmmm 


THE  PHILADEIPHIA 
ORCHESTRA 


H 


m 


RUDOLF  SERKIN 
BEETHOVEN  "*" 

^  "MOONLIGHT"  SonaU 
Wf  "PATRETIQUE"  Sonata 
•APPASSIOMATA"  Sonata 


Mozart's  last  work  — 
which  has  been  called  an 
"opera  for  the  angels" 


BRAHMS 

Symphony  No.  3 
Academic 
Festival 
Overture 


WALTER 

NEW  YORK  PHILHARMONIC 


LEVANT  PLAYS  GERSHWIN 
RHAI=SODY 
IN  BLUE; 


AN  AMERICAN  IN  PARIS 


These  2  delightful  works 
areas  popular  with 
adults  as  with  children 


STRAUSS  WALTZES 
andOVEHTURES 


Definitive  performances- 
of  three  best-loved 
Beethoven  sonatas 


STRAVINSKY: 
FIREBIRD  SUITE 
TCHAIKOVSKY:  , 
ROMEO  AND  JULIET 
LEONARD  BERNSTEIN 
NEW  YORK  PHILHARMONIC 


»HiHiaiiw:ia,'ii»^Hmiinim 


CHABRIER  ESPANA 

PONCHIELLI  DANCE  OF  THE  HOURS 

SUPPE':  HORNING.  NOON  ANO  NIGHT  IH  VIENNA 


aikovsky's  Serenade, 
rber's  Adagio, 
odin's  Nocturne,  etc. 


6  works:  Symphony  No.  3, 
Academic  Festival  Over- 
ture, 4  Hungarian  Dances 


3  Gershwin  works-Con- 
certo in  F,  Rhapsody  in 
Blue,  American  in  Paris 


:NDELSSOHN  I  violin   I 
HAJKOVSKY  I  """""I 


JO  FRANCESCATTI 


liant  performances 
no  of  the  most  popu- 
)f  all  violin  concertos 


JIUl'MM 


amsnEBfiNiiNDih 

SWAN  OFTUONEIA 
EEOiHPEfR  C1HT  SUITE  No.  1 
Q5S2ia  SWEDISH  RHAPSODY 

THE  PHILADELPHIA  ORCHESTRA 


Stunning  hi-fi  perform- 
ances of  the  "Firebird" 
and  "Romeo  and  Juliet" 


BACH'S  ROYAL  INSTRUMENT 
E.P0WER  BIGGS, 


TOCCATA  AND 
FUGUE  in  D  MINOR 
PASSACAGLIA  AND 
FUGUE  in  C  MINOR  ■ 
FUGUE  in  G  MINOR 


Emperor  Waltz,  Blue  Dan- 
ube, Vienna  Life,  Gypsy 
Baron  Overture-2  more 


WAGNER  OVERTURES 


Beecham  presents  a  pro- 
gram of  charming,  happy, 
melodic  music 


COPLAND: 

APPALACHIAN  SPRING 
BILLY  THE  KID 

hat,    -*-*-     r* 
I    ,  ,.p* 


THE  PHILADELPHIA  ORCHESTRA 
EUGENE  ORMANOY.  CONDUCTOR 


The  poetry  and  passion 
of  Chopin  -  excitingly 
performed  by   Istomin 


Exciting  performances  of 
four  very  popular  Scan- 
dinavian works 


5  works:  Concerto  in  D 
Minor  after  Vivaldi;. 
Fugue  in  C  Major;  etc. 


4  overtures:  Rienzi,  Die 
Meistersinger,  Flying 
Dutchman,  Tannhauser 


2  modern  ballet  scores. 
First  complete  recording 
of    Appalachian    Spring 


IHLMflEM:  QOARtTTS  S  *  11 


JAPESTSTBJttWffiTET 


GUIDO 
CANTELLI 

I  NEW  TURK  PSIUUBJOHIC 


VMM 


THE  SEASONS 


BEECHAM 
ELGMts 


m 


U"  ENIGMA 
"'■  VARIATIONS: 

COCKAIGNE 

OVERTURE: 
■  I  SERENADE  FOR 
m  STRING  ORCHESTRA 


ALBENIZ:  IBERIA 
DEBUSSY:  IBERIA 


BEETHOVEN: 
EMPEROR  CONCERTO 

CASADESUS,  Piano 
MITHOPOULOS 


I  tboven's  melodic 
B  Rasoumovsky  Quar- 
I  and   the   "Serioso" 


Vivaldi's  greatest  work 
—  a  musical  portrayal  of 
the  four  seasons 


3  works:  the  clever 
Enigma  Variations;  the 
haunting  Serenade;  etc. 


This  famous  choir  sings 
11  songs:  Come,  Come. 
Ye  Saints;  Clouds;  etc. 


Intoxicating  melodies 
evoke  the  beauty  and 
mystery  of  colorful  Spain 


The  grandest  of  the 
"grand"  concertos— in  a 
rousing    performance 


ll'ou  receive,  at  once,  any  3  of  the  records  shown 
B'bove  —  FREE.  One  is  your  gift  for  joining,  and  the 
i;ither  two  are  your  Bonus  records  "in  advance" 

lifter  you  have  purchased  only  four  records,  you  re- 
ceive a  12"  Columbia  ©  Bonus  record  of  your  choice 
:REE  for  every  two  additional  selections  you  purchase 
I  rom  the  Club.  In  this  way  your  record  purchases  earn 
l|i  50%  dividend 

I  Ivery  month,  as  a  member,  you  receive  FREE  a  new 
ssue   of   the   Columbia   ©   Record   Club   Magazine   - 
||Vhich  describes  all  forthcoming  selections  .  .  .  classi- 
: ,  al,  popular,  jazz,  musical  shows,  etc. 

■I'ou  may  accept  or  reject  the  selection  offered  in  the 
■  lassical   Division,   or   take   records  from   any  of  the 

ji  ther  Club  Divisions:  Listening  and  Dancing;  Jazz; 
iroadway,  Movies,  Television  and  Musical  Comedies. 

ejir  you  need  take  NO  records  in  any  particular  month 

A  our  only  membership  obligation  is  to  buy  four  selec- 
ions  from  the  more  than  100  to  be  offered  in  the 
fj  oming  12  months.  You  may  discontinue  membership 
'    ny  time  thereafter 

JL  he  records  you  want  are  mailed  and  billed  to  you 
m'  t  only  $3.98  (original  cast  Musical  Shows  somewhat 
igher),  plus  small  mailing  charge. 

£  ou  must  be  delighted  with  membership  or  you  may 
ancel  it  by  returning  the  free  records  within  ten  days 

COLUMBIA  @   RECORD  CLUB 

TERRE  HAUTE,  INDIANA 


| —-[FREE- ANY  3 -MAIL  ENTIRE  COUPON  NOW!  \ — — n 


Name 

(Please  Print) 


Address. 


City. 

CANADA. 


CIRCLE  3  NUMBERS  BELOW: 

1.  Beethoven:  3  piano  sonatas 

2.  Gaite  Parisienne;  Les  Sylphides 

3.  Fireb'rd;  Romeo  and  Juliet 

4.  Johann  Strauss  -  Waltzes 

5.  Ports  Of  Call 

6.  Levant  Plays  Gershwin 

7.  Brahms:  Symphony  Ho.  3 

8.  Mendelssohn  and  Tchaikovsky 
Violin  Concertos 

9.  Bach:  Goldberg  Variations 

10.  Strings  of  The  Philadelphia  Orch. 

11.  Peter  and  the  Wolf;  Young  Person's 
Guide  to  the  Orchestra 

12.  Mozart:  Requiem  Mass 
13.  Vivaldi:  The  Seasons 

14.  Sibelius:  Finlandia 
ZONE  State  15.  Tchaikovsky:  Nutcracker  Suite 

iress  ll-USoho  St..  Toronto  2B   ?••  C°Pland:  Appalachian  Spring 


COLUMBIA  ©  RECORD  CLUB,  Depr.  'i21-2 
TERRE  HAUTE,  INDIANA 

Please  send  me  as  my  FREE  gift  the  3  records  whose 
numbers  I  have  circled  at  the  right  -  and  enroll  me  in 
the  Classical  Division  of  the  Club.  It  is  understood  that 
I  may  also  take  selections  from  any  of  the  other  Club 
Divisions. 

My  only  obligation  is  to  purchase  four  selections  from 
the  more  than  100  to  be  offered  during  the  coming 
12  months  ...  at  regular  list  price,  plus  small  mailing 
charge.  For  every  two  additional  selections  I  accept,  I 
am  to  receive  a  12"  Columbia  ©  Bonus  record  of  my 
choice  FREE. 


If  you  wish  to  have  this  membership  credited  to  an  estab- 
lished Columbia  Records  dealer,  authorized  to  accept 
subscriptions,    please    fill    In    the    following    information: 


17.  Beethoven:  Emperor  Concerto 

18.  Bach's  Royal  Instrument 


19. 
20. 

Dealer's  Name 21. 

22. 

Dealer's  Address 91-1   23. 

©  Columbt 


Chopin:  Nocturnes  Vol.  II 
Beethoven:  Quartets  9  and  11 
Elgar:  Enigma  Variations 
Wagner  Overtures 
Songs  of  Faith  and  Devotion 


a  Records  sales  Corp..  toss  ®c*.-»'°'.©.  <£"«..••»   24.  Albeniz  and  Debussy:  Iberia       1-141 


10 


results:  A  plus,  B  minus,  and  "See  me 
after  class!"  The  last  I  heard  of  Waldo 
he  was  sipping  resinated  wine  in  Athens. 
I  he  day  before  he  had  crashed  Grace 
Kelly's  wedding  in  Monaco  and,  natu- 
rally, was  among  the  first  to  kiss  the 
bride.  Robert  Karris  Thompson,  Jr. 

Seventh    \nn\    Hq. 
\1'().  New  York 

Who's  in  Charge? 

To  the   Editors: 

"Who's  in  Charge  Here?"  [The  Edi- 
tor's Easy  Chair,  February]  left  no  doubt 
in  mv  mind  thai  our  elected  President, 
Dwight  D.  Eisenhower,  is  in  charge  and 
that  von  are  definitely  opposed  to  it. 
Your  inference  that  his  illnesses  have 
incapacitated  him  is  not  the  final  con- 
clusion drawn  from  your  editorial.  Your 
criticism  of  his  policies  antedates  his 
illnesses.   .   .   . 

I  am  sure  many  citizens  would  wel- 
come  the  special  privilege  oi  a  national 
magazine  circulation  in  voicing  disagree- 
ment with  your  conclusion.  .  .  .  Many 
people  feel  as  I  do  that  the  leadership 
ol  the  President  is  based  not  on  physical 
strength  but  on  mental  and  spiritual 
vitality.  Mrs.   G.   A.   Webber 

Clark  Lake,  Mich. 

Tn  the  early  days  of  our  republic  Alex- 
ander Hamilton  succinctly  expressed  his 
[ears  too  about  a  weak  government  ex- 
ecutiveship.  .  .  .  Hamilton  admonished: 
"Energy  in  an  Executive  is  a  leading 
characteristic  in  the  definition  of  good 
Government.  A  feeble  Executive  implies 
feeble  execution   of  Government.   .   .   ." 

So  Hamilton  said,  and  I  would  urge 
Americans  hereafter  to  measure  his  re- 
marks carefully  when  going  to  the  polls 
with  the  knowledge  that  they  are  voting 
for  a  cardiac  victim.  .  .  . 

J.   J.  Cobb 
Columbus,  Kan. 

I  wish  to  thank  you  lor  the  February 
1  ,is\  Chair.  It  is  an  article  that  needed 
to  be  written.  And  to  have  the  problem 
expressed  with  such  clarity,  sympathy, 
and  logic  from  all  angles  deserves  the 
highest  praise.  Marga  E.  Davidson 

San  Mateo,  Calif. 

You  certainly  have  some  crust  to  dare 
to  suggest  having  our  beloved  President 
Dwight  D.  Eisenhower  resign.  .  .  .  How 
much  do  you  get  from  Russia  for  open- 
ing in  my  opinion  your  dirty  mouth? 

In  my  opinion  President  Dwight  D. 
Eisenhower  walks  with  God.  He  is  one 
of  the  three  greatest  Presidents  we  have 
ever  had.  .  .  . 

President  Eisenhower's  parents  always 
thought  him  a  wonderful  man.  Can 
your  parents  say  as  much  about  you?  .  .  . 


LETTERS 

You  ought  to  get  down  on  your  hands 
and  knees  and  thank  God  we  have  .1 
great  man  like  President  Eisenhower  for 
Pi  esident. 

I  am. 

An    ardent    admirer   of    President 

1  isenhower,  J.  1..  Hi  mberi 

Hillsdale.   N.  J. 

.   .   .   There   should    be   .1    law   against 

1. dking     about      Presidents     while     in 

office.  ...  P.  Thoren 

New  Brunswick.  N.  J. 

...  I  am  sine  many  Amei  i(  ans  agree 
with  you  but  will  not  s,i\  so  [01  Eear  of 
hurting  or  seeming  to  insult  a  man 
whom   they   like   personally   and   respect. 

It  will  be  a  great  pity  if  Republicans 
fail  to  profit  by  two  very  sad  Democratic 
precedents.  Would  it  not.  actually,  re- 
dound far  more  to  President  Eisen- 
hower's prestige  if  he  had  the  courage 
10  sicp  down  while  still  mentally  alert, 
rather  than  waiting  until  he  has  to  be 
forced  out  or  until  he  causes  as  great 
misfortune  to  the  nation  as  both  Wilson 
and  Roosevelt  did? 

'ion  are  courageous  to  express  your 
opinion  publicly.  I  congratulate  you— 
pel  haps  because  I  ague  with  vou. 

M.    L.   WlNTON 

Greenwich,  Conn. 

Newest  Minority 

To  the   Editors: 

Albert  Votaw  has  outraged  us  ["The 
Hillbillies  Invade  Chicago,"  February]. 
Steinbeck  called  us  Okies.  \1  Capp's 
"l.i'l  Abner"  makes  us  out  as  good- 
natured  primitive  morons.  Snuffy  Smith 
is  the  [ruth,  il  not  the  whole  truth. 
Television's  "The  Real  McCoys"  por- 
trays us  as  cantankerous,  quaint,  lovable 
illiterates.  But  Harper's  latest  is  a 
libelous  assault  on  America's  newest 
minority,  the  Anglo-Saxon.  Southern 
Protestants.   .   .   . 

II  the  article  were  about  a  bunch  of 
Jewish  refugees  or  Polish  immigrants, 
the  clamor  against  Harper's,  the  libel 
suits,  the  snide  remarks  on  TV,  the 
editorial  attacks,  the  whispering  cam- 
paigns, the  boycotts  would  be  enough 
to  put  you  out  of  business.  .  .  . 

We  need  a  publicity  director  to  plant 
news  releases  in  all  media  about  Anglo- 
Saxon  accomplishments;  a  monitoring 
and  news-clipping  service  to  catch  every 
slur  that's  printed  and  nail  every  lie 
that's  uttered,  and  a  legal  department  to 
bring  libel  suits  when  all  else  fails.  .  .  . 
Robert  N.  Jones 
Dallas,  Tex. 

.  .  .  Perhaps  Mr.  Votaw  prefers  Chi- 
cago dominated  by  gang  wars  and  is  sore, 
since    this    distinct    American    layer    of 


society  will  not  become  pawns  of  a  vi 
lord:  or  it  may  be  he  prefers  a  ward  be  J 
and  a  citizenry  that  is  bovine,  asks  J 
questions,  and  accepts  the  little  it  is  m 
fered  lor  its  money  and  likes  it.  andfl 
disgusted  that  these  hillbillies  are  si 
picious  ol  such  a  form  of  city  Eove 
ment. 

He  is  not  the  first  to  become  anno 
at  this  group  of  Americans.  There 
George  III  when  he  was  told  that  sen; 
ol  his  best  soldiers  had  vanished  at  Kill 
Mountains  and  Cowpens.  .  .  .  ThJ 
were  the  "Die'  Hards"  ol  special  privihl 
who  fulminated  at  the  Virginia  and  K<- 
tuc  kv  Resolutions,  lor  they  distrusted  ■ 
stability  ol  the  American  common  m'l 
who  bore  the  hardships,  the  fightil 
and  the  dying  in  the  American  Revol 
lion. 

II  Mr.  Votaw  is  so  keen  in  parad 
the  shortcomings  e>l  any  particular  c 
ol  people,  he  should  have  taken  a  wh 
at  the  politicians,  who  have  done  no 
ing  in  the  last  hundred  years  te>  ra' 
(hi'  standard  of  living  e>f  the  people! 
whom  he  so  heartily  disapproves. 

William  A.  Gar?B 
Belding,  M 

(Mr.  Votaw  was.  of  course,  writing  alul 
out-  specific  i^voiij):  the  isolated,  pox 
stricken,  poorly  educated  "fanners,  rrM 
eis.  an/1   mechanics   from   the   mount 
and  meadows  ol  the  mid-South"  who   I 
finding    it    hard    to    fit    into    the    X01 
em  a  lies  where  they  are  now  migr.am 
in  search  of  xvork.— The  Editors) 


1 


Stiff  Bret 


To  the  Editors: 

The    article    by    George    Kennan 
Chance    to    Withdraw    Our    Troops I 
Europe,"  February]  feels  like  a  good 
breeze  blowing  away  the  smog  of  insaJ 
that   has  gripped   the   country  for   s<| 
time.    It  surely  must  be  clear  to  any! 
who  reads  history  and   has  cogitated 
all    on    the    problem    that    the    pres- 
armaments  race  is  a  dead-end  street 
nothing    less    than    the    destruction! 
humanity  at  the  end. 

The  official   Democrats  seem   to 
nothing   to   offer    that    the    Republi 
dejn't— except  an  intensification  eil  s;, 
Bruce  O.  Wati 
Logan,  11 

Jazz  Writ% 

To  the   Editors: 

No   one   since   Otis   Ferguson    in 
New   Republic  has  written  such  a 
sensitive  article  [on  jazz]  as  Mr.  Har]l 
in  the  February  issue  [After  Hours]. 
Jane  Spring! 
Montebello,   C| 


:REE!...This  *30  Set  of  Books! 


THE  COMPLETE  AND  UNABRIDGED 

BATTLES  and  LEADERS 
of  the  CIVIL  WAR 


4  Big  Volumes  •  Handsomely  Boxed  •  Over  3000  pages 

early  2000  Original  Illustrations  *  A  monumental  work  written 

by  the  men  who  planned  and  fought  the  war  —  Grant, 

Beauregard,  Meade,  Sickles,  Longstreet,  Johnston  •  Rare 

photographs  including  world  famous  Brady  and  Gardner 

collections  •  New  introduction  by  Roy  Franklin  Nichols,  winner 

of  the  Pulitzer  Prize  in  American  History. 

RETAIL  PRICE . . .  $30 


when  you  join  the 

AMERICAN  HISTORY  PUBLICATION    SOCIETY 


lattles  and  Leaders"  is  the  greatest  account  of  the  Civil  War  ever  published.  For  decades 
has  been  obtainable  only  from  rare  book  dealers  at  a  premium  price.  Now  this  set  is 
jrinted  in  its  entirety,  including  every  word  and  picture  of  the  original  edition.  This 
the  war  as  seen  through  the  eyes  and  describee'  in  the  words  of  the  men  who  were 
;re  . .  .  the  personal  narratives  of  the  great  leaders  on  both  sides  who  planned  the  cam- 
igns  and  fought  the  battles. 

Originally  offered —  and  enthusiastically  bought  —  at  $30.00,  this  new  printing  has 
:eived  the  highest  critical  acclaim.  The  American  History  Publication  Society  now 
esents  it  to  you  as  a  membership  bonus  —  ABSOLUTELY  FREE  —  upon  your  enroll- 
nt  with  the  Society.  It  is  indicative  of  the  rare  historical  content  and  high  value  of  the 
blications  available  to  you  through  membership.  To  get  it.  simply  fill  in  and  mail  the 
ipon,  selecting  any  one  of  the  books  listed. 

AS  A  SOCIETY  MEMBER,  HERE  ARE  YOUR  PRIVILEGES 


y  joining  the  American  History  Publication  Society 
,  not  only  do  you  receive  "Battles  and  Leaders  of 
Civil  War"  —  a  S30  value  —  absolutely  free.  You 
also  entitled  to  other  great  works  at  savings  up 
'0%.  Listed  here  are  a  few  of  them  with  pub- 
;rs'  prices  and  Members'  prices  to  illustrate  the 
ngs.  You  are  enrolled  automatically  as  a  Member 
ndicating  your  choice  of  any  of  the  books  listed  and 
rning  the  coupon.  You  receive  the  books  of  your 
ce  and  "an  absolute  guarantee  of  satisfaction  or 
■  money  back. 

ach  month  thereafter  you  receive,  free,  a  copy  of 
iricana,  the  Society's  publication.  This  describes 


the  book  for  the  coming  month,  together  with  capsuled 
descriptions  of  other  important  works  which  are  sure 
to  be  of  great  interest  to  you.  You  are  not  obligated  to 
accept  each  book  offered  monthly.  As  few  as  six  in  the 
first  year  fulfill  your  entire  obligation  as  a  Member  of 
the  Society.  For  each  additional  four  selections  you 
accept,  you  receive  an  important  bonus  book  FREE. 
If  you  do  not  want  a  forthcoming  selection,  you  simply 
return  a  printed  form  which  is  always  supplied. 

Here  is  an  opportunity  to  build  a  library  of  present 
worth  and  future  increment.  It  costs  nothing  to  join, 
and  you  may  cancel  at  any  time  after  accepting  as  few 
as  six  selections.  Fill  in  and  mail  the  coupon  now. 


OOSE  ANY  ONE  OF  THESE  FINE   BOOKS  AS  YOUR  FIRST  SELECTION 


NARRATIVES  OF  EXPLORATION 
AND   ADVENTURE 

by  John  Chorlei  Fremont  —  edited  by  Allan  Nevini 
Explorer's  own  account  of  his  three  great  expedi- 
tions (1842-1846)  opening  the  West.  Graphic  lan- 
guage, vivid  style. 

Retail  price  $8.50  Member's  price  $6.95 


THE    AMERICAN    WARS  —  by  Roy  Meredith 
Records  all  America's  wars  from  Quebec  to  Korea. 
Almost  500  illustrations,  the  on  the  scene  work  of 
military  artists   Living  history  as  It  was  formed. 

Retail  price  $10.00         Member's  price  $7.50 


MATERIALS   TOWARD   A 
HISTORY   OF    WITCHCRAFT 

compiled  by  Henry  Chorlei  Lea 

The  Indispensable  work  for  those  who  wish  to  under- 
stand the  demonic  "black  arts"  that  have  influenced 
and   shaped   world   civilizations;   3  volumes,   boxed 

Retail  price  $20.00       Member's  price  $13.95 


MEDIEVAL   AMERICAN   ART 

by  P6I  Kelemen 

Original  eye-witnesses  describe  in  detail  the  dazzling 
splendor,  the  vivid  costumes  and  fantastic  para- 
phernalia of  the  Indians  with  whom  they  dealt.  755 
pages;   almost    1000   Illustrations. 

Retail  price  $15.00       Member's  price  $11.95 


THOMAS   JEFFERSON 

A   Biography 

by  Nathan  Schachner 

Brilliant  new,  one-volume  edition  —  called  by  N.  Y. 

Times   critic   Orville  Prescott   "the  best  Jefferson 

biography  I  have  seen." 

Retail  price  $8.50         Member's  price  $6.95 


THE    AMERICAN    FUR    TRADE 
OF    THE    FAR    WEST  —  by  Hlram  M.  Chittenden 
This  new  edition  of  a  recognized  classic  restores  to 
prominence  a  study  that  has  been  called  "the  out- 
standing  achievement  of   an   outstanding   life". 

Two  Volumes 
Retail  price  $12.50         Member's  price  $7.95 


A    HISTORY   OF 
PRESIDENTIAL  ELECTIONS 

by  Eugene  H.  Roieboom 

From  Washington  to  Elsenhower,  this  is  a  colorful 
record  of  America's  growth,  crammed  with  a  wealth 
of  fact   not  to  be  found   in  any  other  single  work. 

Retail  price  $8.50  Member's  price  $6.95 


THE    CUSTER    MYTH  —  by  W    A    Graham 
Ablaze   with    the    color    of    the   frontier,    illustrated 
with    80    photographs    and    drawings,    It    brilliantly 
depicts    all    the    events    surrounding    Custer's    last 
battle. 

Retail  price  $10,00         Member's  price  $7.70 


AMERICAN   HISTORY 
PUBLICATION   SOCIETY 


The  American  History  Publication  Society  was 
formed  for  thoughtful  men  and  women  interested  in 
interpreting  the  future  of  America  through  a  knowl- 
edge of  its  past.  The  Society's  prime  purpose  is  to 
help  its  members  build  a  library  of  Americana  —  the 
books  of  permanent  worth  —  at  savings  of  40%  or 
more.  You  are  offered  monthly  a  selection  of  works 
covering  significant  phases  of  American  History. 
Some  are  re-issues  of  out-of-print  accounts  now 
found  only  in  libraries  of  a  few  fortunate  collectors. 
Others  are  new  publications  by  masters  in  their 
chosen  fields.  But  each  brilliantly  illuminates  an  era, 
event  or  exploit  that  has  gone  into  the  making  of 
America. 


American  History  Publication  Society,  Inc.  Dept  E018 
11  East  36th  Street,  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 

Enroll  me  as  a  member  and  send  my  first  selection, 
(checked  below)  plus  my  free  copy  of  the  $30.00,  four- 
volume  set.  "Battles  and  Leaders  of  The  Civil  War." 
During  the  first  year  I  agree  to  accept  at  least  six 
selections.  I  will  receive  the  Society's  "Americana" 
magazine  monthly  and  with  each  four  additional  selec- 
tions I  am  to  receive  a  free  Bonus  Book.  I  can  cancel 
my  membership  any  time  after  the  first  year.  (Note: 
Send  no  money.  Simply  check  the  book  of  your  choice 
and  mail  this  coupon.) 


D  1049  Narratives  of 
Exploration 
&  Adventure 

D  1203  A  History  of 
Presidential 
Elections 

□    456  The  Custer  Myth 


G  1212  Thomas  Jeffersori 
D  1222  Materials 

Toward  A 

History  of 

Witchcraft 
Q  0628  The  American 

Fur  Trade  of 

the  Far  West 


ZONE STATE 

Postooe  ond  duty  oddftion 


i  Canadian  Member! 


<i 


Colonel  E.  B.  Crabill 


the  EASY  CHAIR 


A  Combat  Veteran   Sounds  Off 


This  cantankerous  guest  editor  is  better 
equipped  to  discuss  military  mutters  than  most 
<>l  the  "experts"  now  issuing  daily  statements  in 
Washington.  He  served  as  an  infantry  officer  in 
three  wars,  -iron  twelve  decorations,  and  led  the 
129th  Infantry  Regiment  in  combat  from  Omaha 
Beach  to  the  Elbe  River.  In  its  many  battles. 
including  St.  Malo,  Hurtgen  forest,  and  the 
Bulge,  it  captured  more  than  10.0(10  Germans 
and  lost  about  5,000  in  killed  and  wounded. 
Ih  recently  retired  after  serving  as  chief  of 
research  and  development  of  infantry  weapons 
and  equipment  in  the  Army  Field  Forces. 

SI  N  ( I  E  the  Korean  war  the  citizens  of  the 
United  Slates  have  been  handed  an  annual 
tax  hill  ol  about  seventy  billion  dollars.  Instead 
of  diminishing,  this  bill  shows  ever)  sign  oi 
increasing  to  eighty  billion,  ninety  billion,  or  a 
hundred  billion,  unless  something  more  radical 
is  done  ih, in  the  manicuring  job  normally  per- 
formed   by  Congress. 

The  primary  excuse  lor  this  astronomical  bite 
is  that  sacrosanct  monstrosity  labeled  "National 
Defense— Do  not  touch."  It  takes  the  major  pan 
ol  tin  taxes  now  and  shows  every  indication  of 
growing  bigger.  Why  should  it  be  a  sacred  cow? 
Have  the  people  so  much  confidence  in  the 
Defense  Department  that  they  think,  it  can  do 
no  wrong?  Isn't  there  a  possibility  ol  a  little 
empire-building  mixed  up  with  the  real  require- 
ments? Isn't  it  possible  thai  billions  are  being 
wasted  because  ol  incorrect  conceptions  ol  future 
wais? 

Is  it  true  that  the  only  war  of  the  future  will 
be  an  atomic  war,  with  its  attendant  suicidal 
destruction?  Isn't  it  also  true  that  the  United 
States,  in  spite  of  these  enormous  expenditures, 
may  find  itself  without  the  means  to  fight  more 
probable  wars?  Isn't  it  possible  that  by  spending 
on  personnel  a  fraction  of  the  money  going  into 
expensive'  and  useless  equipment,  a  better  defense 
force  could  be  built?  Have  the  people  in  the 
United  States  become  so  intrigued  with  the 
glamor  ol  airplanes,  guided  missiles,  and  atomic 


bombs  that  they  have  forgotten  that  ground  can 
be  taken  and  occupied  only  by  men  on  foot? 
What  the  defense  setup  needs  is  a  good  tough 

inspection.  Let's  take  a  hard  look  at  some  ol  the 
prevailing  sophisms  thai  ate  responsible  lor  this 
astronomical  spending.  Am  ol  them  could  be  the 
subject  ol  a  complete  article.  For  the  sake  of 
brevity  each  will  only  be  touched  on  here. 

THE     ARGUMENTS 

(1)  The  military  leaders  in  our  country  are 
best  able  to  determine  our  needs  for  national 
defense.  The\  might  be  il  they  were  able  to  rise 
above  their  prejudices,  but  they  are  not. 

It  might  be  possible  to  approach  a  solution 
b)  asking  an  admiral  what  the  Army  needs, 
an  Arm)  general  what  the  Air  Force  needs,  and 
an  Ait  Force  general  what  the  Navy  needs,  but 
io  ask  each  what  his  own  service  needs  is  like 
opening  the  doors  of  the  Treasury  and  handing 
him  a  shovel. 

There  is  an  old  building  in  Washington  that 
used  to  be  called  the  State,  War,  and  Navy 
Building.  Whenever  one  of  our  admirals  or 
generals  passes  it  he  must  shudder  because  not 
so  long  ago  it  used  to  house  them  all  and  the 
State  Department  besides.  The  empires  that  have 
been  built  in  the  Pentagon  have  become  so 
complex  that  there  is  a  saying  in  the  services  that 
it  is  impossible  lor  anyone  to  go  there  and  get  a 
"Yes"  or  "No"  answer  to  anything. 

There  is  a  related  evil  that  goes  along  with 
this— the  staff  build-up,  the  Indians  that  do  the 
Chief's  work  lor  him.  The  more  Indians,  the 
bigger  the  Chief.  All  Indians  have  found  out 
that  the  way  to  get  to  be  Chief  is  to  be  on  the 
staff  of  a  Chief,  ready  to  step  into  his  job.  It  is 
also  much  pleasanter  than  to  be  out  in  the  rain 
and  mud,  dodging  shells.  The  result  is  that  the 
smait  boys  do  bird-dogging  for  the  Chiefs  and 
the  dumb  ones  lead  the  troops  in  combat.  This 
has  two  evils— it  tends  to  build  up  the  staffs  and 
it  is  a  little  hard  on  the  troops. 

(2)  The    money    appropriated    for    military 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 


13 


equipment  is  necessary  for  the  defense  of  the 
country.  It  is  about  as  necessary  as  it  is  to  fur- 
nish each  voter  in  the  country  with  an  air-con- 
ditioned Cadillac. 

The  characteristics  demanded  by  the  services 
in  their  airplanes,  ships,  weapons,  and  vehicles 
are  now  so  expensive  that  the  cost  of  them  is 
from  two  to  ten  times  as  great  as  that— with  a 
small  loss  in  comfort,  efficiency,  or  accuracy— of 
a  serviceable  substitute.  In  World  War  II  a  satis- 
factory liaison  airplane  cost  about  1 1,500.  Ask 
what  the  present  job  costs  and  hold  onto  your 
pocketbook.  The  Rus- 
sians have  a  heavy 
trench  mortar  that  looks 
as  though  it  had  been 
machined  with  a  sledge 
hammer,  but  it  throws 
a  lethal  shell  a  long  dis- 
tance. 

The  accuracy  of  our 
weapons  is  so  far  supe- 
rior to  the  accuracy  of 
the  persons  manning 
them  as  to  be  ridiculous. 
So  far  I  have  never  seen 
a  time  in  combat  when 
such  accuracy  was  either 
necessary  or  humanly 
obtainable,  though  I  have  seen  more  combat 
than  most  officers.  The  advent  of  "human  en- 
gineering," in  recent  years,  has  aggravated  this 
problem.  In  the  old,  tough  days  the  personal 
comfort  of  service  personnel  was  not  a  consid- 
eration. Nowadays  it  is  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant considerations,  which  has  the  dual  disad- 
vantage of  being  extremely  expensive  and  mak- 
ing softies  out  of  the  military. 

(3)  It  takes  nine  men  in  the  rear  to  keep  one 
man  at  the  front.  This  is  a  great  understatement. 
It  started  at  least  as  far  back  as  the  British  pacifi- 
cation of  India,  where  animal  transportation  was 
all  that  was  available  and  communication  was 
by  runner.  Nowadays  with  motor  and  air  trans- 
portation, and  radio  and  telephone  communi- 
cation, the  proportion  of  rear-area  personnel, 
instead  of  decreasing,  has  increased.  In  World 
War  II,  we  who  were  in  combat  estimated  that 
all  the  actual  fighting  was  done  by  from  2  to  5 
per  cent  of  the  personnel  in  the  battle  zone. 
Within  the  range  of  enemy  artillery  fire  there 
was  little  visible  movement  and  very  few  troops 
to  be  seen.  If  you  started  to  the  rear,  however, 
every  mile  the  clutter  of  vehicles,  the  masses  of 
administrative,  supply,  engineer,  ordnance,  mili- 
tary police,  transportation,  signal,  medical,  and 
other  staff  units  increased  progressively.  What 
they  all  did  we  of  the  infantry  could  not  imagine. 
The  artillery  and  tanks  supported  us  and  we 
needed  daily  rations,  water,  and  gasoline,  but 
that  required  only  a  small  number.  The  others, 


rmu° 


as  near  as  we  could  see,  must  have  been  taking 
in  each  other's  washing. 

In  Korea  I  had  the  task  of  inspecting  some  of 
these  rear-area  troops.  I  found  not  a  single  unit 
that  was  as  much  as  50  per  cent  efficient— that 
is,  not  a  single  administrative  unit  turned  out 
as  many  as  half  of  its  assigned  personnel  for  its 
primary  duty.  Where  were  the  others?  On  guard, 
on  kitchen  police,  sick,  AWOL,  on  Rest  and 
Rehabilitation,  running  typewriters,  answering 
telephones,  or  doing  bunk  fatigue.  Most  were 
on  duty  shifts  of  eight  hours.  The  soldiers  at 
the  front?  Twenty-four 
hours  a  day,  seven  days 
a  week. 

Can  anything  be  done 
about  this?  Yes,  but  it 
probably  will  not  be 
done.  Why?  The  big 
headquarters  are  always 
in  the  rear  areas.  They 
want  lots  of  communica- 
tions so  they  can  keep 
up  their  battle  maps. 
That  requires  signal 
troops.  They  want  com- 
fortable housing.  That 
requires  engineers.  They 
want  good  food.  That 
requires  mess  personnel.  They  want  aspirin. 
That  requires  medical  officers.  They  want  lots  of 
staff  officers  so  they  can  get  the  answer  to  any 
problem  that  arises  without  having  to  dig  it  out 
themselves.  All  these  people,  in  turn,  have  to 
be  furnished  rations,  shelter,  telephones,  medical 
attention,  and  so  on.  If  there  are  enough  of 
them  around  they  will  be  so  busy  taking  care  of 
each  other  they  will  have  little  time  left  for  the 
troops  in  the  combat  areas. 

The  Red  Cross,  Special  Services,  and  USO, 
particularly  the  feminine  personnel,  are  needed 
to  keep  rear-area  personnel  entertained.  Obvi- 
ously, these  entertainment  people  couldn't  go  up 
into  the  fighting  areas,  so  they  are  never  seen 
by  the  combat  troops  except  the  rare  times  the 
infantryman  gees  a  pass.  In  World  War  II,  Paris 
was  so  completely  occupied  by  rear-area  troops 
that  combat  troops  in  reserve  couldn't  go  there 
because  there  was  no  room  for  them.  A  more 
recent  example  of  this  is  the  report  by  Time 
magazine  of  how  a  naval  caretaking  detachment 
in  Naples,  originally  consisting  of  forty-five  men, 
has  been  parlayed  into  a  Shangri-La  of  2,103 
military,  534  civilians,  and  3,166  wives  and 
children;  to  take  care  of  NATO  South,  an 
organization   of   692   officers   and   men. 

(4)  The  officers  in  our  services  are  brave,  intel- 
ligent, zealous,  and  unselfish  and  the  enlisted 
men,  when  they  put  on  the  uniform,  are  meta- 
morphosed into  crusaders  rarin'  to  fight  and  die 
for  the  good  old  United  Nations  and  the  Four 


MARBORO 

NEW  YORK'S 
MOST  EXCITING 
BOOKSTORES 


importa 


NEW! 


Volumes  never 
available  at  les 
original  prices. 


5686.    Selected   Writings  of  SYDNEY   SMITH.    I 
with  intro.  by  W.  H.  Auden.  >le  introduc- 

tion to  "the  most  famoi  ration",  an 

ine  writer  who  has  mui  our   times. 

Included   in   this    *  olume   are   the  cre.ir 

his  published  works,  writings  that  electrified  the 
public,    nn  id   made   him   the 

ought  alter  figure   in   London   s 
Pub.   at  $6.50.  Only    1.00 

5016.  AMERICAN  SYMBOLS:  A  PICTORIAL  HIS- 
TORY.   B>    Ernest    I.-.!  i 

representing  a  strikingly  authentic  record  of  Ann 
lite  and  origins.  Visual  symbols  of  the  flags,  flowers, 
birds   and   map    outlines   of    all    the    states — national 
shrines,  emblems,  trademarks  and  hundreds  ol 
authentic  signs  touching  ever',  nerican  lite. 

2.98 
5608.  Thomas  Wolfe— LOOK  HOMEWARD,  ANGEL. 
A  classic   ot   conb  American  literature,   this 

us,    penetrating    and    impassioned    novel    ot    a 
young  man  straining  against   the  bonds  of   a  violent 
ssive  family  established   Wolfe's  reputation  and 
lias    now-    become    a    major    Broadway    success.    I 
6UU  pp.  Reprint  edition.  2.49 

5629.  Dream  Interpretation— THE  DREAM:  MIR- 
ROR OF  CONSCIENCE.  By  Werner  Wolff.  A  highly 
absorbing  history  ot  dream  interpretation,  from 
B.C.  i"  post  Freudian  theories.  Dream  patterns,  and 
how  they  cxpicss  mans  deepest  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings about  life,  death,  sex  and  conflict,  are  here  re- 
vealed in  all  their  implications  and  significance. 
Illustrated  with  unusual  prints  and  drawings. 
Pub.  at  $8.50.  Only  3.98 

3947.  THE  HINDU  RITUAL  OF  LOVE:  KAMA 
KALPA.  By  P.  Thomas.  An  erudite  and  detailed  sur- 
vey concerning  marriage,  morals,  women,  the  art 
and  science  ot  luxe,  and  sex  symbolism,  prevalent  in 
India  from  remote  antiquity  to  the  present  day.  This 
monumental  history  is  supplemented  by  a  magnificent 
gallery  of  1(10  plates  and  a  color  frontispiece  ot  temple- 
sculptures  and  pamtings  depicting  the  pleasures  of 
the  senses  as  expounded  by  Kama.  9V&"  x  11%". 

12.49 


5073.  TRUMAN  MEMOIRS.  By  Harry  S.  Tru- 
man. The  history  making  memoirs  of  a  man  who 
forged  some  of  our  era's  most  momentous  deci- 
sions, the  most  important  presidential  biography 
ever  written.  These  volumes  are  a  remarkable  rec- 
ord of  the  former  President's  tumultuous  years  as 
the  nation's  Chief  Executive.  Two-volume  set; 
almost   1,200  pages!  Pub.  at  $10.00.   Only   1.98 


3924.  HOMOSEXUALITY:  A  Cross  Cultural  Ap- 
proach. Ed.  by  Donald  Webster  Cory.  The  first  book 
which  intelligently  explores  the  subject  of  homo- 
sexuality from  the  historic  world  of  Plato's  Greece 
to  the  hard  realities  of  Kinsey's  America.  440  pp. 
Pub.  at  $6.50.  For  a  limited  lime  only  3.88 

5543.      THE    COMPLETE    ETCHINGS    OF    GOYA. 

Foreword  by  Aldous  Huxley.  All  268  etchings — The 
Disasters  oj  War.  The  Caprices.  The  Proverbs,  The 
Art  of  Bullfighting,  plus  39  others  not  grouped  in  any 
series— now  available  for  your  continual  pleasure  in 
a  permanent  library  edition.  Here  are  galleries  of 
great  art  in  one  handsome  9"  x  12"  volume,  with  an 
appreciation  by  a  highly  articulate  connoisseur. 
Pub.  at  $7.50.  Only  3.95 

4950.  H.  L.  MENCKEN.  By  Charles  Angoff.  Here's 
the  real  Mencken,  a  portrait  from  memory  drawn  h\ 
the  rran  who  knew  him  best;  a  revealing,  uncensored 
picture  of  a  fantastic  personality— and  his  off-the- 
record  opinions  on  nearly  everything  set  against  a 
gaudy  and  memorable  period  in  our  history. 
Pub.  at  $i.95.  Only  1.49 

P-219.  CHINESE  WALL  PAINTINGS  ON  LINEN: 
SINGING  CRANES.  No  verbal  description  could  ade- 
quately describe  the  breath-taking  beauty  of  this  pair 
of  bird  portraits — treasured  possessions  of  the  Shoko- 
kuji  Temple  in  Kyoto,  Japan.  Sometime  in  the  14th 
century,  the  Ming  artist  Wen  Cheng  painted  each 
detail  of  feather  and  form  in  glowing  scarlet,  ash- 
white,  yellow  and  black  and  inscribed  graceful  ide- 
ographic characters  in  black  to  balance  the  composi- 
tion with  exquisite  symmetry.  Recently  a  master- 
craftsman  silk-screened  these  masterpieces  onto  a 
natural-colored  linen  so  perfectly  that  they  could  be 
mistaken  for  the  originals.  Each  panel-shaped  print 
measures  39"  high  x  14>/8"  wide. 
Pub.  at  $30.00.  The  pair  only  5.95 


P-326.  VERMEER  ON  CANVAS:  Young  Woman 
Reading  Letter.  A  portrait  masterpiece  in  the  Rqks- 
museum  in  Amsterdam,  transferred  directly  onto 
artists'  canvas  by  a  new  process,  m  Holland,  and 
mounted    on    ,i    stout    wooden    st r <  h  foi 

framing.  Tl  Id  tones,  time-mellowed  blues 

and    greens    are    I  nd    washable    .is    well. 

'Reproduction  remarkably  good  I  congratulations." 
— Gordon  Washburn,  Director,  Fine  Arts  Dept., 
Carnegie    Institute.    2 1  Vi "    high    x     IX1  '."    wide. 

2.98 
5031.   The    Style   and   Technique   of   LAYOUT.    I 
i  '       tisl   with   25 

rience  in  advertising  art  with  top  ageni 
in  New  York  and  Hollywood  teaches  you  how  to  use 
K    into  the   realm   of    tnst 

':;[    advertising    art'    Hundreds    oj    i ■ 

in  a  big,    1  ()'  ,  "  x   1  2  '  ,"  1 k. 

Only  1.98 
4725.    MARIANNE  THORNTON.    Bs    I      MI 
In   recounting  the   lite  ot   ins  great-aunt,   one  of   the 
foremost  living  writers  tells  not  only  of  a  remark  I 

ing  w.im. in,  but  also  ol  .in  extraordinary  lamily 
and  Victorian  society  during  the  course  of  England's 
greatest   century.   / 

Pub.   at  $5.00.  Only   1.00 

5647.  FROM  ONE  CHINA  TO  THE  OTHER:  144 
Photographs.  By  Henri  Cartier-Bresson.  A  monu- 
mental  human   document  of  the  transition   from  Na- 

ist   to  Communist  government   in  China,   scenes 
of  confusion,  monastery  timelessness  and  military  im- 
mediacy;   the   soul    ot    a    people    600    million    strong, 
in  preservi    ancient  values  in  the  midst  ol   .in 
■  nsis.  Produced  in   1  "  x  1 1". 

Pub.  at  $10.00.  Only  3.98 

P-304.  UTRILLO:  MONTMARTRE  STREET  SCENES, 
folio  of  8  Parisian  scenes  in  the  delicately  colored 
tonalities  that  have  made  his  moody  landscapes  col- 
Each  full-color  plate  meas 
16"  x  2o".  Includes — Montmartn  Street,  Place  de 
Tertre,  Thi  Garden  '  M  ntmartre,  Rue  de  Mont. 
marlre,  Montmartre  Corner,  Montmarlre  Scene,  Le 
Lapin  Agile  and  Village  K 

Pub.  at  $10.00.  Only  2.98 

5240.  THEY  CAME  TO  MY  STUDIO:  Famous  Peo- 
ple of  Our  Time  Photographed  by  VIVIENNE.  From 
Churchill  to  Olivier,  from  Markova  to  Leighton,  the 
most  distinguished  figures  of  public  life,  the  stage, 
the  screen  and  ballet.  Over  200  portraits  by  a  great 
photographer,  with  informal  glimpses  of  the  sitters 
discussing  how  they  should  be  posed  for  posterity. 
9V?"  x  12".  Pub.  at  $8.00.  Only  1.98 

1952.      RABELAIS.  The  complete  unexpurgat.ee]  Car- 
gantua  and  Pantagruel;  the  most  ribald  and  entertain- 
ing classic  in   world   literature.   More  than    100   full- 
page  drawings  by  W.  Heath  Robinson.  962  pp. 
Pub.  at  $7.50.  Only  2.98 


5060.  U.  S.  CAMERA  1957.  By  Tom  Maloney. 
This  outstanding  annual  is  still  the  most  useful, 
comprehensive  pictorial  guide  to  fine  camera  work 
and  the  year's  best  pictures — by  the  all-time  greats 
of  photography  as  well  as  talented  "unknowns" 
— as  seen  the  world  over.  Articles,  features,  port- 
folios,  hundred!  of  full-page  photos,  some  in 
color.   8'/2"  x   11%".   Pub.  at  $6.95.  Only  2.98 


5341.  SCIENCE  SUBJECTS  MADE  EASY.  By  Henry 
Thomas,  Ph.D.  This  huge  book  covers  astronomy, 
geology,  chemistry,  physics,  mathematics,  anthro- 
pology, biology,  physiology,  and  psychology  in  sim- 
ple language.   535  pp.,  over  100  drawing*. 

Special  2.98 
5219.  Bertrand  Russell:  UNDERSTANDING  HIS- 
TORY. A  world-renowned  iconoclastic  philosopher 
contributes  a  biting  analysis  of  current  misconceptions 
of  historical  events.   Hardbound.  Special  1.49 

1856.  NUCLEAR  PHYSICS.  By  W.  Heisenberg,  Di- 
rector of  the  Max  Planck  Institute  of  Physics.  Got- 
tingen.  An  excellent  introduction  to  the  subject  by 
the  Nobel  prize  winner.  With  18  half-tones  and  3  ^ 
line  illustrations.  Pub.  at  $4.75.  Only  1.98 

5646.      FROM  INCAS  TO  INDIOS:  77  Photographs. 

Werner  Bischof's  last  photographic  study,  completed 
by  Robert  Frank  &  Pierre  Verger.  A  tremendously 
rich  panorama  of  the  life  and  treasures  of  the  Peru- 
vian Indians,  proud  descendants  of  the  Incas — from 
their  religious  pageants,  masked  and  costumed  cele- 
brations and  dances  of  wild  abandon,  to  awe-inspiring 
views  of  Cuzco.  the  ancient  capitol  of  Inca  empire, 
and  Machu  Picchu.  the  famous  center  of  pre-Colum- 
bian civilization.  Text  bv  Manuel  Tunon  de  Lara. 
8'/2"  x  11".  Imported.      Pub.  at  $10.00      Only  3.98 


I 


4786.  IN  SEARCH  OF  ADAM.  By  Herbert  ^ 
The  greatest  detective  storv  of  all  time — the 
for  the  truth  about  the  origins  ot  Man  in  th 
ot  the  un i .  i  ord.i  d  past.  Here,  m  "iic  550-page  v 
is  everything  that  is  known  about  the  kinship  b 
humans  and  apes,  the  "missing  link,"  and  th 
terious  lost  i, ucs  who  may  have  been  out  lust 
ancestoi  •  of  photos. 

Pub.  at  (t  Onl  X 

3949.  THE  HOMOSEXUAL  IN  AMERICA.  Byfl 
aid  Webster  (  ory.  Every  aspect  ol  this  httle-l 
stood  lite  is  related  and  evaluated  from  a  subfl 
viewpoint  in  a  book  p.ickc-d  with  hitherto  undis« 
information,  treating  the  subicit  frankly,  ho| 
and  with  keen  analytical  percc;  ' 
Pub.  at   i.i"'.  OnM 

3604.  BOOKBINDING— ITS  BACKGROUND  tl 
TECHNIQUE.  By  Edith  Diehl.  These  two  box! 
umes,  themselves  masterpieces  of  the  bookbJJ 
art,  authoritatively  reveal  the  history  and  everyT 
of  workmanship  of  this  fascinating  craft,  uj 
plates  and  nearly  200  drawings. 
Pub.  at  $i0.00.  2  vols.,  boxed,  on/1 

3590.      Sartre:     EXISTENTIALISM     AND     Hi 
EMOTIONS.  Here  is  the  heart  of  Sartre's  phil| 
—  that    man    is    personally    responsible    for    \ 
does — that  there  are  no  values  external  to  m 
man   may  therefore  choose  different   values. 
Pub.  at  $2.75.  O 

5261.    BURKE'S    PEERAGE.    The    101st    ed 
Burke's    Genealogical    and    Heraldic    History 
Peerage  Baronetage  &  Knightage.   1956.  The  a] 
tative    last   word    on    British    nobility.    Gold 
binding.  Nearly  3,000  pp. 
Pub.  at  $50.(i<>.  Onl: 

4936.  BARBED  WIT  AND  MALICIOUS  H' 
By  Patrick  Mahony.  Hundreds  of  sparkling  : 
ot  stings,  slurs,  sarcasms,  rapid-fire  repartee, 
retorts,  insults,  and  epigrams  caustically  en 
over  the  vears  by  the  famous  and  near-famou 
Pub.  at  $3.50.  On 


5582.  FIGURE  PAINTING.  By  Andre  I 
The  first  English  edition  of  the  classic  an 
used  by  artists  and  students  all  over  the  v 
Among  the  many  subjects  discussed  by  the  h 
French  artist  and  teacher  (with  the  graphic  a 
9  full-color  plates.  104  half-tone  illustration] 
7  diagrams)  are:  Intelligence  in  Painting,  M 
ling,  Drawine.  The  Sketch.  Composition,  (j 
Perspective,  etc.  This  is  definitely  a  "must) 
every  art  library.  7Vi"  x  lO'/g". 
Pub.  at  $7.50.  Onl) 


5135.      AMERICAN    WINES   AND    WINE-M 

By  Philip  M.  Wagner.  Wine-making  from  tlj 
maker's  point  of  view;  not  only  a  practical 
for  the  home  producer,  but  also  a  first-rate  gj 
consumers  (chapters  on  New  York,  Califori 
French  vineyards)  and  a  practical,  amusirj 
mentary  on  the  uses  of  wine.  36  illus. 
Pub.   at  $5.00.  Oti 

5283.     SWITZERLAND.  A  book  of  photogrffl 

an  introduction  by  Richard  Aldington.  The  >, 
of  the  Alps,  the  pastoral  beauty  of  the  cou 
the  joy  of  winter  sports,  as  well  as  the  hiddj 
face  of  this   lovely  and   fascinating  country, 
after  page  of  finely  reproduced  plates. 
Pub.  at  $5.00.  0 

4703.      EXTRAORDINARY     POPULAR     DEL 
AND    THE    MADNESS    OF    CROWDS.    By 

Mackay.  Intro,  by  Bernard  Baruch.  Long  out 
this  classic  work  describes  vividly  and  in  d( 
great  delusions  of  the  past  which  so  disastn 
fected  whole  peoples  and  nations:  the  witch 
the  tulip  madness,  strange  prophets  and  "m.1 
healing,  financial  hoaxes,  haunted  houses,  b 
alchemy,  divination,  the  end  of  the  world. 
remarkable  and  curious  book.  Many  illuslram 
pp.  Pub.  at  $7.00.  0. 

3465.      HARUNOBU    AND    THE    EDO    GRC 

full-color  plates  immortalizing  the  fragile,! 
and  incredibly  lovely  maidens  portrayed  by  tj 
Harunobu  in  47  plates  and  presenting  16  oo 
traits,  genre  prints,  etc.  by  Harunobu's  c< 
raries,  Buncho,  Shunsho.  Shigemasa  and  K 
The  text  by  Lubor  Hajek  is  a  full-length  d| 
study  of  Harunobu  and  his  school — their  w 
their  period.  Cloth  covered,  Japanese-style 
binding  with  bamboo  clasp.  8"  x  10W'.  Imi 

Spe 


w  listings  of 


/:' 


Imports  from  gre&l  pub- 
lish «ng  houses  of  England 
and  tSte  ContSn&rtt 


NEW! 


Fabulous  savings  on 
books  in  every  field  if 
you  order  promptly. 


College  Book  of  AMERICAN  LITERATURE. 

Ellis,  Pound  &  Spohn.  Here  in  two  volumes, 
ver  1,000  pages,  is  a  comprehensive  and 
;h  survey  ol  American  literature,  from  John 
and  the  Puritans  of  New  England  to  O'Neill 
jmingway.  Every  major  writer  and  minor  con- 
■  to  the  advance  of  our  literary  heritage  is 
■ith  and  represented  by  characteristic  selections, 
descriptive  introductory  passages  provide  a 
te  background  to  each  author.  Almost  200 
i,  over  800  selections,  more  than  2100  pages. 
I  $10.50. Both  vols,  only  3.88 


.  THE  BROTHERS  KARAMAZOV.  By  Feo- 
3ostoyevsky.  A  handsome  permanent  edition 
our  library  of  one  of  the  enduring  master- 
s  of  literature.  A  great  novelist's  revelation 
e  summits  and  depths  of  the  human  spirit, 
;n  with  compassion  and  unequalled  psycho- 
il  insight.  877  pages.  Special  1.98 


THE    SELECTIVE    EYE    1956-1957.    A    new 

)gy  of  the  best  articles  and  illustrations  from 
.,  the  provocative  international  art  review.  A 
cent  9V2"  x  1 2 1/2 "  volume  devoted  to  all  as- 
if  the  visual  arts  and  the  world's  greatest 
:  25  fascinating  articles,  190  black-and-white 
itions,  51  full-color  plates,  most  of  them  of 
,  never  before  shown  in  color. 
$8.7}.  Only  4.95 

AGEANT    OF    ITALY.    By    James    Reynolds, 
icily  and  Calabria  to  the  Alps,  from  Imperial 
!  nd  Medieval  Florence  to  the  lavish  resorts  of 
■  from  ghostly  ruins  to  pleasure  palaces,   here 
grand   tour   and   guide   to   all   of   Italy,    its 
s,  culture  and  traditions,   by   a  master  story- 
id  artist,  in  a  glorious  6V2"  x  9V2"  profuselv 
ced  book.  Pub.  at  $7.50.  Only  2.98 

FIESTA  IN  PAMPLONA:  85  Photographs, 
ull  Color.  By  Inge  Morath.  Reveals  as  never 
the  wild,  glorious  spectacle  of  the  bullfight, 
the  moment-by-moment  crescendo  from  the 
irocessions  and  the  letting  loose  of  the  bulls 
ero's  solitary  prayers  and  his  climactic  action 
orrfda.  Text  by  Dominique  Aubier,  cover  de- 
Picasso.  8'/2"  x  11".  Imported. 
'10.00.  Only  3.98 

THE  PENTAMERON.  Transl.  by  Sir  Richard 
Fully  reflecting  the  Rabelaisian  vigor  and 
directness  of  their  15th  century  origins,  Giam- 
Basile's  witty  folk-tales  are  here  presented  in 
icpurgated  edition  by  the  translator  of  the 
Nights.  Illus.  Pub.  at  $5.00.  Only  1.98 

PSYCHOANALYSIS  TODAY.  Ed.  by  Sandor 
Ferenczi,  Alexander,  Brill,  Jones  and  25 
stinguished  psychologists  presents  a  fascinat- 
ory  of  psychoanalysis,  discussing  every  aspect 
eud's  influence  on  medicine  to  child-parent 
ships,  juvenile  delinquency,  sexuality,  neu- 
sychoses,  psychology  as  it  relates  to  religion, 
"ature,  sociology,  anthropology  and  crime. 
$6.00.  Only  2.98 

GOODBYE  TO  UNCLE  TOM.  By  J.  C.  Fur- 
icluttered  by  prejudice  and  unhampered  by 
^leading,  this  is  perhaps  the  most  enlightening 
>out  the  American  Negro  to  appear  in  our 
dramatic,  thoroughly  documented  historical 
,  from  the  earliest  misconceptions  to  today's 
problems.  Illustrated. 

$6.00.  Only  1.98 

WORD  ORIGINS  AND  THEIR  ROMANTIC 
5.  By  Wilfred  Funk.  Reveals  the  fascinating 
•ns  of  more  than  3,000  words  in  common 
h  unusual  stories  you  can  use  to  spark  any 
tion.  432  pp.  Originally  $4.95.       Only  1.98 

LOVE  IN  THE  SOUTH  SEAS.  By  Bengt 
on,  anthropologist  on  the  Kon-Tiki  voyage, 
'ete,  accurate,  frankly  written  account  of  the 
nd  sex  life  of  the  Polynesians,  that  deals  with 
ruction,  marriage  customs,  sexual  freedom 
hibitions,  attitudes  toward  nudity,  abortion 
inity,  and  the  basic  concepts  of  a  people  to 
e  sexual  act  is  as  natural  as  eating  and  drink- 
tos.  Pub.  at  $4.00.  0»/>  1.98 

JALLET  CARNIVAL.  By  Margaret  Crosland. 
inion  to  the  ballet  that  provides  just  about 
g  you  want  to  know.  Over  100  biographies 
1st  and  present  great  figures  in  ballet;  almost 
es  of  all  the  well  known  works  in  the  inter- 
repertory;  a  vocabulary  from  adagio  to  za- 
_a  guide  to  phonograph  records.  This  pro- 
ustrated  400-page  Book  is  a  must  for  ballet 
ub.  at  $5.00.  Only  2.98 


5685.  IN  SEARCH  OF  THEATER.  By  Eric  Bentley. 
One  of  the  foremost  contemporary  writers  on  the 
arts  of  the  theater  surveys  with  critical  eye  and 
friendly  intent  the  theatrical  life  of  the  Western 
World  since  the  end  of  World  War  II.  A  handsome 
edition  for  your  permanent  library,  with  75  photos 
and  12  drawings. 
Pub.  at  $6.00.  Only  1.98 


5523.  JAMES  STEPHENS:  COLLECTED 
POEMS.  Revised  &  enlarged  edition.  This  final 
selection  by  the  author  of  all  his  poems  which 
he  wished  to  preserve  will  more  than  serve  to 
reaffirm  his  reputation  as  one  of  the  enduring 
voices  of  modern  poetry.  Distinguished,  imagina- 
tive verse  by  the  author  of  The  Crock  of  Gold. 
Pub.  at  $5.00.  Only  2.98 


5063.  EUROPE  IN  COLOR.  By  the  Editors  of  Holi- 
day. Intro,  by  Allan  Nevins.  Here  are  nearly  200 
outstanding  full-color  photographs  of  the  countries 
of  Europe,  taken  by  some  of  the  world's  most  expert 
lensmen.  See  Europe's  most  beautiful  and  spectacular 
scenery,  its  famous  vacationlands,  its  peoples  at 
work  and  at  play.  8V4"  x  10Vi". 
Pub.  at  $7.50.  Only  3.49 

3948.  SEX.  ART  AND  RELIGIOUS  SYMBOLISM: 
SIGNS  OF  LIFE.  By  H.  M.  Raphaelian.  Erotic  il- 
lustrations from  Egypt  and  India,  religious  iconogra- 
phy from  all  countries  and  all  religions,  Semitic 
scripts,  stone-rubbings,  bas-reliefs  and  secret  rites  are 
but  some  of  the  sources  of  this  erudite  and  curious 
pictorial  dictionary  of  symbols,  gathered  from  every- 
where and  all  ages.  Over  250  illus.   7%"  x   WV2"  ■ 

Special  3.98 

5148.  Colette:  CLAUDINE  AT  SCHOOL.  This  is 
the  book  that  catapulted  Colette  to  international  fame 
and  eventually  the  Academy  Concourt— the  high- 
spirited  story  of  the  amoral  Claudine,  school-girl 
wise  beyond  her  years,  and  of  her  "search  for  the 
absolute  of  happiness  in  physical  love." 
Pub.  at  $3.50.  Only  1.49 

5350.  THE  GLOBE  RESTORED:  A  Study  of  the 
Elizabethan  Theatre.  By  C.  Walter  Hodges.  Brilliant 
illustrations  and  descriptive  text,  based  on  the  most 
recent  research,  bring  to  life  in  authentic  reconstruc- 
tion the  world  of  Shakespeare  and  the  most  famous 
playhouse  of  all  time.  Over  90  plates  and  line  draw- 
ings. Pub.  at  $7.50.  Only  2.98 


P-325.  EL  GRECO  ON  CANVAS:  View  of  Toledo. 

A  priceless  art  treasure  from  the  Metropolitan  Muse- 
um of  Art,  reproduced  by  a  new  process  in  Holland, 
directly  on  artists'  canvas  and  mounted  on  a  wooden 
stretcher  ready  for  framing.  The  immortal  blues, 
greens  and  grays  of  El  Greco  are  not  only  fadeproof. 
but  washable  as  well.  "Reproductions  are  as  hne  as 
any  I've  seen  and  the  price  is  incredibly  low." — 
Edgar  Schenck,  Director  of  the  Albright  Gallery. 
2iy2"  high  x  21"  wide.  A  $20  value!  Only  2.98 

5683.  COMPULSION  AND  DOUBT.  By  Wilhelm 
Stekel,  M.  D.  Modern  man  shows  the  psychic  scars 
of  anxiety,  dread  and  obsession  as  never  before  in 
history.  In  this,  book,  Dr.  Stekel  gives  these  emo- 
tional disorders  a  most  acute,  comprehensive  and 
informative  treatment.  He  lays  bare  neurotic  obses- 
sions and  compulsions,  showing  the  hidden  causes 
and  the  subconscious  motives  at  their  roots.  Concrete 
case  histories,  told  in  absorbing  detail,  illustrate  and 
form  the  basis  of  Dr.  Stekel's  conclusions.  Two 
volumes. 
Pub.  at  $7.50  Both  vols,  only  3.98 


4930.  THE  SECOND  SEX.  By  Simone  de  Beau- 
voir.  A  masterpiece  of  documentary  writing  that 
is  a  profound  and  unique  analysis  of  what  it 
means  to  be  a  woman — in  body,  in  mind,  in 
spirit,  sexual  life,  social  position,  love  and  mar- 
riage. The  author  employs  the  resources  of  bi- 
ology, psychology,  sociology,  history,  literature 
and  philosophy,  to  provide  a  total  picture  of 
modern  woman.  "One  of  the  few  great  books  of 
our  era."- — Philip  Wylie. 
Orig.   pub.   at  $10.00.  Only  4.95 


3905.  CANTERBURY  TALES.  By  Geoffrey  Chaucer. 
A  new,  readable  version,  rendered  in  modern  lan- 
guage. 25  color  illustrations  and  many  marginal 
decorations  by  Rockwell  Kent.  Only  2.49 

1450.  JAPANESE  WOODCUTS.  By  Hajek-Forman. 
72  entrancing  masterpieces — 50  in  glowing  color  and 
22  in  monochrome — by  Masanobu,  Harunobu,  Ki- 
yoshige,  Kiyomitsu,  and  other  great  artists  of  the 
colorful  "early"  period  of  this  fascinating  art.  The 
stunning  page-size  plates  are  supplemented  by  32 
pages  of  authoritative  history  and  criticism.  Deco- 
rated cloth  portfolio  binding  in  Japanese-style  with 
ribbon  ties  and  bone  clasps.  Imported.  8V4"  x  lOVi"- 
Pub.  at  $12.50.  Only  5.95 


MAILTHIS    COUPON   TODAY 

All  orders  shipped  within  48  hours  of  receipt 

IT!  3  T  b  O  TO     DePf-  H-231    222  Foorth  Ave.,  New  York  3,  N.  Y. 

Please  send  me,  postage  prepaid,  the  bargains  circled  below. 

□   Enclosed  find  $ □  Send  C.O.D.*  Minimum  purchase  $3.00. 

1450    1856    1952    3465     3577    3590    3604    3905    3924     3947    3948    3949    4703    4725 
4786    4929    4930    4936    4950    5016    5031     5060    5063    5073    5135    5148    5219    5240 
5241    5261     5283    5341    5350    5523    5536    5537    5543    5582    5608    5629    5646    5647 
5648    5655    5666    5667    5668    5683    5685    5686    5700 
P219    P304     P325    P326 


Name_ 


Address. 


City- 


-Zone_ 


-State- 


I    I   Check  here  if  you  receive  our  monthly  bargain  circular 

New  York  City  residents  add  3%  sales  tax.  *A  few  cents  extra  for  C.O.D. 
Add  25<  per  title  for  deliveries  outside  U.S.A.  and  possessions. 
10-DAY  SATISFACTION  OR  MONEY-BACK  GUARANTEE. 

WHEN  IN  NEW  YORK  CITY,  VISIT  A  MARBORO  BOOK  SHOP 

47  West  42nd  Street  ♦  8  East  59th  Streel  ♦  144  West  57th  Street 
56  West  8th  Street  •  390  Fulton  Street  (Brooklyn) 


Woodrow  Wilson  did.  "I  not  only 
use  all  the  brains  I  have,"  he  said, 
"but  all  I  can  borrow." 

Makes  sense,  doesn't  it?  We 
think  so.  That's  why  we  encour- 
age our  customers — and  everyone 
else  who  is  interested  in  owning 
stocks — to  use  the  services  of  our 
Research  Division,  which  is  made 
up  of  more  than  a  hundred  men 
and  women  with  access  to  all  the 
pertinent  facts  and  figures  on  the 
major  companies  in  every  Ameri- 
can industry. 

Research  will  recommend  in- 
vestments to  suit  your  situation  if 
you  wish,  or  review  your  present 
holdings,  or  give  you  a  well-docu- 
mented opinion  on  almost  any 
company  that  interests  you.  This 
service  is  yours  for  the  writing, 
without  charge  or  obligation  — 
whether  you  are  a  customer  or  not. 

So  exercise  your  executive  abili- 
ties and  delegate  your  investment 
problems  to  our  Research  Division. 
Remember,  two  heads  are  better 
than  one  —  and  one  hundred  are 
better  than  two. 


MERRILL  LYNCH, 

PIERCE, 
FENNER  &  SMITH 

Members  New  York  Stock  Exchange 
and  all  other  Principal  Exchanges 

70  Pine  Street,  New  York  5,  N.  Y. 

Offices  in  1 12  Cities 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 


Freedoms.  1  would  (.ill  ihis  about 
20  per  <  enl  correct.  We  owe  out 
success  in  wars  to  .i  \<i\  small  group 
ol  heroes.  The  resi  jusl  go  along  Eor 
the  tide.  Not  is  ihis  sin. ill  group 
made-  up  more  "I  generals  than  pi  i- 
vates  oi  vii  e  versa.  It  is  about  the 
same   in   all   ranks. 

George  Washington's  statement 
that  the  patriotism  ol  citizens  ol  the 
United  suu-s  was  dependent  upon 
what  would  best  serve  then  selfish 
interests  is  as  true  toda)  as  ii  was 
then.  In  ordei  to  get  one  officer  who 
is  a  ual  leadei  it  is  necessary  to 
hire  about  three.  II  Congress  evet 
thought  ii  a  good  idea  to  pa\  serv- 
ice personnel  a  living  wage,  as  com- 
pared (o  c(|iii\ . ilt  in  jobs  iii  <  i  '1  life, 
the  services  could  probabl)  get  along 
wiih  hall  their  present  boss  per- 
sonnel. Si nt  t  Congress  doesn't  sec  (it 
to  do  this,  the  services  manufacture 
a  lHiinlxi  ol  jobs  ami  hope  that  l>\ 
hiring  three  |5,000-a-year  men  they 
will  get  one  Silt. 000  man.  This  is 
not  only  expensive  but  takes  up  a 
lot  ol  time  in  trial  and  error,  not 
io  mention  the  casualties  caused  by 
pool    leadership. 

The  same  economics  appl)  to  en- 
listed men.  Two  enlisted  men  in 
uniform  will  look  alike,  but  one  will 
fight  and  the  other  hide.  One  is 
worth  ten  times  the  amount  he  is 
paid  and  the  other  is  a  liability.  II 
we  paitl  enlisted  men  a  living  wage, 
instead  ol  babying  juvenile  delin- 
quents who  couldn't  gel  a  job  else- 
where, the  services  could  eliminate 
hall  their  personnel  who  are  now  in 
baby-sitting  jobs  such  as  military 
polite,  excess  administrative  duty, 
excess  instruction,  special  service, 
recruiting,  and  the  like.  Military 
service  is  just  like  any  other  business 
and  it  could  be  run  a  great  deal 
more  effectively  on  business  princi- 
ples, rather  than  by  the  politico- 
paternalistic  methods  now  in  vogue. 

(5)  All  soldiers,  sailors,  and  airmen 
contribute  equally  to  their  country's 
defense  and  should  be  equally  en- 
titled to  veterans'  benefits.   Boloney. 

II  you  believe  this,  go  out  some 
night  when  it  is  raining— it  always 
rains  in  combat— dig  yourself  a  fox- 
hole with  about  lour  inches  of  water 
in  the  bottom  and  spend  a  couple 
ol  weeks  there,  living  on  canned 
rations.  Even  without  the  mortar 
and    artillery    fire,    the    ever-present 


dangei    ol   having   your  arm  or 

blown  oil,  oi  ol  Ik  'in"  killed,  ab 
two  wicks  should  make  a  Christ 
ol  von.  \dd  the  hazards  ol  com 
and  il  you  still  think  all  vetei 
should  be  treated  alike  you  sho 
i  un  lot  Congress. 

Battles  are  won  In  a  \er\  lew 
usually  brave  men  who  are  able 
do  the  right  thing  at  a  critical  ti 
Battle  fronts  are  now  usually 
wide  lot  the  wil\  strategy  ol  a  St< 
wall  Ja<  kson  or  the  persona]  lea 
ship  ol  a  Napoleon.  Moie  often  t 
are  decided  by  the  boldness  ol  s( 
lieutenant  oi  sergeant  who  mj 
a  break-through  which  is  then 
ploited   by   higher  leaders. 

The   great    mass   ol    so-called 
erans  in  the  United  States  never 
the  words  ol   an  old   Indian   figl 
"heard  the  whine  ol  a  hostilc's 
let."    They  probabl)   gave  up  I 
persona]  advantage  in  return  lor 
versational    resources    that    will 
them   all   their   lives.     The    vcter 
organizations  are  too  well  enirenc 
politic  ally  to  do  much  about  this, 
as  far  as  justice  to  the  e\-sei\icei 
is  concerned,  Congress  is  show 
out    money    indiscriminately   so 
a  few  deserving  men  will  get  a  u 
ol  it.    Being  often  handicapped,  I 
deserving  will  probably  be  tram 
in  the  rush. 


(6)    Wars  of   the  future   zoill 
all-out  wars  like  World  Wars  I 
II.   This  is  highly  improbable 
United    States    military    machin 
now  geared  for  only  one  purpi 
to  fight  Russia.    This  plays  dir 
into  the  hands  of  the  Russians, 
obviously  have  no  intention  of 
ting   into   an    all-out   war   with 
United  States.    They  can  gain  t 
desired  ends  much  more  easily 
effectively  by  piecemeal  tactics.  E| 
time  there  is  a  disturbance  or 
burst   of   violence   anywhere   in 
world,  look  for  the  Communist; 
they  don't  instigate  it  themselves 
will  be  there  shortly  after  the  troj 
starts. 

"Why,"   they   say,   "take   a  loj 
punishment    conquering    the   w 
the  hard  way  when  you  can  ta 
a  country  at  a  time  the  easy 
using  non-Russian   troops?''    If 
can    suck    untrained    United 
troops  into  a  few  more  Koreas 
Every   one    of    them    will    hurt 
United   States.    If  we  send   Ur.j 


«s% 


«J».^!l*V,t* 


viMN/  i 


*^^s4f: 


i  I  net  ■* 


THE 
CAT  L  FIDDLE 


Invitation  to  60,000  British  pubs 


lis  is  the  Ctfr  and  Fiddle  at  Hinton 
l.dmiral,  Hampshire.  It's  pretty  typ- 
|)f  pubs  around  these  parts.  We 
I  that  the  thatch  has  a  charm  of  its 
I  But,  like  all  pubs,  the  real  character 
I :  place  comes  from  inside. 
Ijentially,  a  pub  is  two  things  at  once, 
lib  for  the  locals.  A  haven  for  the 
ler.  Somehow  the  beer,  the  darts, 


and  the  shove-ha'penny  manage  to  blend 
both  purposes  admirably. 

Britain  has  roughly  60,000  pubs  and  the 
oldest  is  said  to  be  the  Fighting  Cocks  at 
St.  Albans  (A.D.  795).  All  have  their  pet 
claims.  Some  say  the  Cat  and  Fiddle  is  a 
corrupted  testimonial  to  the  purity  of 
Catherine  of  Aragon  (i.e.  Catherine  la 
Fidele).  Heigh-diddle-diddle,  the  beer  is 


always  good.  So  are  the  sandwiches. 

Here's  an  idea.  Why  not  get  a  map  and 
plan  a  leisurely  tour  all  over  Britain, 
staying  at  inns  on  the  way?  You  can  stay 
at  most  village  inns  for  as  little  as  $2.80 
a  night,  hearty  breakfast  included. 

Your  travel  agent  can  now  book  you 
from  New  York  to  Britain  and  back,  by 
sea  or  air,  for  less  than  $400 ! 


•  free  illustrated  literature,  write  British  Travel  Assoeiation,  Box  170,  336  Madison  Avenue,  New  York  17.  In  Canada :  90  Adelaide  Street  West,  Toronto,  Ontario. 


I  is  a  fascinating  game  when  you  get 

■  lg  of  it.  But  it  isn't  as  easy  as  it  looks. 

I  pubs  have  dart  teams.  Any  of  these 

■s  will  willingly  give  you  a  lesson. 


BEER.  Most  Britons  drink  draught  beer. 
Old,  mild  or  bitter.  You  can  mix  any  two 
"arf-and-arf."  Wc  suggest  you  experiment. 
Nearest  to  American  beer  is  bottled  lager. 


SKITTLES.  You  may  be  lucky  enough  to  find 
a  pub  with  a  skittle  alley.  This  one  is  at  the 
Royal  Oak  in  Winsford,  Somerset.  Order  a 
glass  of  Somerset  cider.  It's  marvelous  stuff! 


*"PP"H!"PI 

w 

1  *  t  *         !           5 

w 

AMERICAN  PRESIDENT  LINES 


SERVING  50  PORTS  ON  4  MAJOR  TRADE  ROUTES 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 


es  troops  into  the  Middle  East, 
r    getting    Britain    and    France 

the  Russians  can  hang  the  in- 
er  label  on  us.  They  also  know 
/  have  nothing  to  fear  from  the 
ted  States  where  it  counts— on  the 
and.  As  long  as  they  can  keep 
y  from  airplanes,  atomic  bombs, 

sea  battles,  they  can  have  it 
-.  They  have  five  divisions  to  our 
,  and  ours  are  too  badly  scattered 
be  assembled  for  combat  any- 
re.  When  the  awe-inspiring  Sixth 
:t  moved  into  the  eastern  Medi- 
anean  in  the  Suez  crisis  it  had 

eighteen  hundred  ground  fight- 
troops— one  battalion  of  Marines. 

')   Wars   of   the   future   will    be 

ded  by  atomic  bombs,  airplanes, 

guided  missiles.    Don't  you  be- 

2  it.  Any  time  she  chooses  to  do 

Russia  can  march  across  Europe 

ibout    three    months.    There    is 

ling    in    Europe    to    stop    her. 

re  is  nothing   that   the   United 

es  has   that  could  stop   her.    It 

ardly  thinkable  that  if  the  Rus- 

s  occupied  Bonn  we  would  kill 

dreds  of  thousands  of  Germans 

to   stop    their    vanguard.    Nor 

Id  it  be  feasible  to  destroy  Vi- 

i  to  prevent  the  Russians  from 

ipying  it.    It  would  not  be  pos- 

to  saturate  Europe  with  atomic 

ibs.  The  Russians  would  seek  out 

unbombed   places   as    the    tides 

le  sea  go  around  the  headlands. 

y  might  possibly  be  stopped  at 

;ource,  by  bombing  Russian  cities 

bases.   Are  we  prepared  to  sac- 

:  the  east  coast  of  the   United 

;s    for    this?     That    is,    are    we 

iared   to   commit   suicide    for   a 

ciple?     Any    Air    Force    officer 

vs  that  no  defense  will  stop  all 

bombers.    It   would    take    only 

to  destroy  a  city. 

)  Atomic  weapons  are  so  devas- 

ig  that  they  will  eliminate  war 

means  of  settling  international 

greements.     Don't    believe    that 

either.    History  is  replete  with 

x>ns    so    devastating    that    war 

Id    be    impossible.     Recent    ex- 

les  are  poison  gas  in  World  War 

nks  in  World  War  I,  saturation 

Ibing,  V-l   and  V-2  guided  mis- 

I  in  World  War  II.    They  had 

effects  in  past  wars  and  may 

i|  sed  again  in  future  wars,  but  no 

|)on  will  ever  stop  all  wars. 


In  April  1945,  when  I  stood  on 
a  hill  overlooking  the  devastation 
wreaked  by  American  and  English 
bombers  on  the  Ruhr  complex,  the 
whole  area  appeared  to  me  to  be 
completely  destroyed.  An  examining 
group,  after  hostilities  ended,  re- 
ported that  in  spite  of  this  bombing 
the  manufacture  of.  weapons  was 
operating  at  nearly  80  per  cent  of 
efficiency  when  the  Ruhr  was  over- 
run by  LTnited  States  ground  troops. 

(9)  Wars  are  won  by  the  nations 
having  the  best  machines.  This  fol- 
lows the  old  saying  that  God  is  on 
the  side  of  the  heaviest  artillery,  and 
it  is  not  to  be  depended  on.  History 
has  too  many  instances  in  which  a 
rabble  poorly  armed  and  trained 
but  possessing  high  morale  has  de- 
feated well-trained  and  well-equipped 
armies. 

The  last  and  most  painful  exam- 
ple of  this  was  Korea,  though  in 
this  instance  the  troops  were  not 
well-trained.  In  Korea,  the  United 
Nations  forces  had  complete  control 
of  the  sea,  complete  control  of  the 
air,  and  overwhelming  superiority 
in  tanks  and  artillery,  but  they  were 
unable  to  defeat  a  howling  mob  of 
uneducated  peasants  armed  with 
weapons  mostly  of  World  War  I 
vintage.  In  this  instance  the  expla- 
nation given  was  that  we  were  not 
allowed  to  bomb  beyond  the  Yalu 
River.  Since  our  bombers  regularly 
destroyed  the  bridges  south  of  the 
Yalu,  only  to  have  them  back  in 
operation  the  next  day,  this  appears 
—to  one  who  was  there— to  be  only 
an  alibi.  The  Korean  war  was  an 
infantry  war  and  we  failed  to  win 
because  we  did  not  have  enough 
infantry  and  the  infantry  we  had  was 
not  good  enough. 

Weapons  are  superior  only  if  the 
persons  handling  them  are  superior 
and  have  high  morale.  The  troops 
of  Israel,  recently,  went  across  the 
border  into  Egypt  and  took  away 
from  the  Egyptians,  like  taking  candy 
from  a  baby,  the  mass  of  modern 
weapons  that  had  been  furnished 
them  by  the  Communists. 

A     BETTER     WAY 

IT  I S  an  accepted  principle  that 
nobody  should  criticize  the  way 
things  are  being  done  unless  he  is  pre- 
pared to  offer  a  better  way.  In  com- 


BANGKOK 

KNOWS  THE  PRESIDENTS 

Golden  spires  of  the  centuries-old  temples 
of  Bangkok  .  .  .  steel  masts  of  the  sleek, 
modern  cargoliner.  The  old  and  new  .  .  . 
the  East  and  the  West,  one  of  the  long- 
remembered  contrasts  of  travel  with  the 
President  fleet.  Bangkok  knows  and  wel- 
comes these  carriers  of  America's  goods; 
adds  Thailand's  own  riches  to  their  home- 
ward cargoes. 

And  here  her  passengers  will  tread  the 
Courtyard  of  the  Emerald  Buddha,  and 
gaze  at  the  towering  Temple  of  the  Dawn. 
Soon  they'll  sail  onward  for  further  adven- 
ture in  Singapore,  Penang,  Colombo  and 
other  ports  visited  by  their  President  liner; 
one  of  40  ships  on  a  never-ending  mission 
of  service  to  the  free  world. 

To  Bangkok  on  a  "Mariner" 
World  Cruise 

Deluxe  Mariners  offer  informal  freighter 
travel  with  the  luxury  of  "picture-window" 
staterooms,  lounges,  and  suites.  These  air- 
conditioned  cargoliners  sail  from  New 
York  and  California  twelve  times  each 
year.  Fares  from  $2725. 

Cruise  ships  'Round  the  World 

Join  us  for  100  leisurely  days  of  cruise  life 
and  shore  adventure  in  the  Orient.  India, 
Middle  East  and  Mediterranean.  The  pas- 
senger liners  president  polk  and  presi- 
dent monroe  sail  from  New  York  and 
California  every  8  weeks.  Fares  from 
$3075.  Or  spend  two  sunny  weeks  aboard 
these  ships  from  New  York  to  California, 
via  Panama  and  Acapulco.  Fares  from 
$550. 

California  to  the  Orient 

Visit  Bangkok  —  and  Angkor  Wat.  Singa- 
pore, India  —  on  an  extension  tour  when 
you  cruise  to  Hawaii,  Japan,  the  Philip- 
pines and  Hong  Kong  aboard  the  presi- 
dent CLEVELAND  Or  PRESIDENT  WILSON;  Or 

aboard  the  president  hoover  direct  to  the 
Orient.  Or  remain  with  the  ship,  returning 
to  San  Francisco  in  6  weeks.  Pressed  for 
time?  Travel  one  way  by  President  liner, 
one  way  by  air.  Round-trip  sea/air  fares 
apply.  Cruise  fares  from  $1386.  See  your 
travel  agent  for  details. 

See  your  freight  forwarder  or  broker  for 
cargo  information. 

AMERICAN  PRESIDENT 
LINES 

General  offices: 
311  California  Street,  San  Francisco  4 


See  13,000  miles  of  the  world  from 

the  deck  of  a  fine  passenger  liner! 

♦ 

from  Japan  and  Hong  Kong  to  Rio  and 

Buenos  Aires,  with  Singapore,  Mauritius,  Capetown 

and  many  other  fascinating  ports  in  between. 

57  days  of  relaxation  and  enjoyment,  seeing  new  places  and  new 
faces  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe.  The  flawless  service,  and 
cuisine,  the  modern  comforts,  the  unexcelled  seamanship  of  a  fine 
Dutch  ship  are  your  assurance  of  a  successful  voyage. 

Include  a  side  trip  to  fascinating  Bali. 
20-       SEE  YOUR  TRAVEL  AGENT. 

v      ROYAL 
INTEROCEAN 

LINES 

General  Passenger  Agents  for  North  America: 

HOLLAND-AMERICA  LINE    .    DUTCH  WORLD  SERVICES 

29  Broadway,  New  York 

Holland-America  Line  offices  in  principal 

^— ^— —  cities  of  the  U.  S.  and  Canada  — — ^^— 


€h#o<£ 


ct 


SPORTSMAN  S  PARADISE 

The  Government  of 

La  Province  de  Quebec 

has  reserved  thousands  of 

virgin  lakes,  rivers,  forests, 

mountains,  as  a  sportsman's 

paradise.  Six  great  Provincial 

Parks  offer  the  finest  fishing. 

hunting,  camping.  Hotels, 

camps,  guides  are  eager  to 

help  you  organize  the 

best  trip  you  have 

ever  enjoyed. 


For  information  and  reserva- 
tions, write:  Provincial  Publicity 
Bureau,  Parliament  Buildings, 
Quebec  City.  Canada;  or  48 
Rockefeller  Center.  New  York 
20,  N.Y. 

S?  ... 


£ 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 

pliance  with  this  principle,  I  offer 
the  following  re<  ommendations,  none 
nl  which  I  expert  to  see  carried  out: 

(1)  Stop  depending  on  guided 
missiles,  atomic  bombs,  and  airplanes 
to  solve  all  defense  problems.  They 
probably  won't  be  used  in  small  wars 
and  will  be  suicidal  to  use  in  big 
wars. 

(2)  Keep  read)  and  available  in 
the  continental  United  States  at 
leasl  a  dozen  tough  .and  well-trained 
divisions  ol  prolessional  soldiers  th.it 
can  be  moved  anywhere  to  back 
up  decisions  ol  the  United  Nations. 
Three  or  lour  of  them  should  be 
ait  home.  They  should  contain  no 
re<  ruits  and  should  have  no  adminis- 
trative duties.  They  should  be  pro- 
vided with  sufficient  troop-carrying 
aircraft,  under  Army  control,  to 
transport  them  with  their  equipment 
to  any  threatened  area. 

(3)  Reduce  by  50  per  cent  tin 
personnel  on  duty  in  the  Pentagon. 
including  assistant  secretaries,  ad- 
mirals, and  generals.  Require  all 
lower  headquarters  to  reduce  their 
non-combat  personnel  50  per  cent 
either  by  eliminating  installations 
or  by  reducing  personnel  in  existing 
installations.  The  amount  of  ad- 
ministrative work  deemed  necessary 
always  equals  the  number  of  people 
available  to  do  the  work.  The  source 
ol  administration  is  the  Pentagon. 
Reduce  it  and  all  other  headquarters 
can  be  reduced. 

(4)  Revise  the  military  character- 
istics of  war  materiel,  to  eliminate 
requirements  that  make  it  expensive 
without  proportionately  increasing 
its  combat  value.  The  excessive  cost 
of  war  materiel  is  our  most  serious 
problem. 

(5)  Start  the  pay  of  enlisted  men 
at  S50  a  week,  of  officers  at  56,000 
a  year.  This  would  probably  elimi- 
nate the  draft.  To  compensate  for 
the  increased  costs,  eliminate  all 
fringe  benefits,  including  transporta- 
tion. Transport  no  dependents  over- 
seas. Make  the  minimum  tour  of 
duty  at  one  post  three  years  in  the 
United  States  and  one  year  overseas. 
Sharply  curtail  the  Military  Air 
Transport  Service. 

(6)  Eliminate  the  Corps  of  Mili- 
tary Police.  This  is  an  outstanding 
waste  of  good  manpower.  Have  mini- 
mum military  police  in  tactical  units. 


COMING   I 


Harper's 

-^-  in  tt  tin  *•  i  » 


nici"(izme 


NEXT   MONT 


THE  GINS 

AT   FALAISE   GAP 

A    firsthand    account    of   one 
the      most      crii.-hinji — and      le; 
known — American    victories 
World  War  II. 

By  Richard  B.  Mcjk 


WHY  CANADIANS  ARE 
TURNING  ANTI-AMERICAN 

A  report  on  our  neighbors'  fi  | 
political  campaign  in  which  bo) 
parties  attacked  the  U.S.A.   .  .  | 

Bv  Bruce  Hutchis^ 


HOW  FRANK  LLOYD  WRIGH' 
GOT  HIS  MEDAL 

When  some  Philadelphia  arc] 
tects  decided  to  award  a  go 
medal  to  that  unpredictable  f 
triarch  of  American  architectu 
Mr.  Frank  Lloyd  Wright.  th< 
problems  only  began.  A  play-1 
play  account  of  a  hilarious  w« 
end  shows  how  ornery  —  ai, 
wonderfully  engaging — the  gn 
man  can  be  .  .  . 

By  Alfred  Bendir 


Hoic  a   Classical   Education  Ma 
A  NOBEL  SCIENTIST 

A  surprising  recipe  for  traini 
men    in    practical    thinking,    fn 
a      mathematical      physicist     w  I 
has    been    described    as    Einstei  I 


successor. 


By  Werner  Heisenbt 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 

lischarge  soldiers  who  misbehave, 
harply  reduce  such  military  activ- 
ies  as  Special  Service,  Information 
ervice,  Food  Service,  and  Recruiting 
ervice.  Have  combat  units  take  care 
£  their  own  maintenance,  recreation, 
ommunications,  recruiting,  and  po- 
ice  work. 

(7)  Reduce  individual  clothing 
nd  equipment  of  military  personnel 
o  that  which  can  be  carried  on  their 
lacks  or  in  their  unit  transportation. 
7hey  will  throw  the  excess  away 
/hen  they  get  in  combat  anyway, 
fhe  criterion  should  be  not  what 
light  add  to  their  comfort— there  is 
to  comfort  in  battle— but  what  is  the 
rinimum  with  which  they  can  op- 
rate  effectively. 

(8)  Foflow  General  Bradley's  rec- 
mmendation  that  hospitalization  of 
eterans  at  the  taxpayer's  expense  be 
mited  to  those  whose  disabilities 
ere  the  result  of  wounds  or  injuries 
eceived  in  the  war. 

(9)  Build  no  anti-atomic  personnel 
lehers.  No  presently  available  warn- 
lg  system  would  allow  time  to  oc- 
jpy  them,  particularly  since  the 
ombing  would  be  at  night,  when 
te  factories  and  office  buildings  are 
pipty. 

IN  ALLY    let    me    forecast    the 
obable  trend  of  the  next  war.    It 
ill  start  as  the  Korea,  Indochina,  or 
iddle    East    war    started.     It    will 
adually    involve    Communist    na- 
ons  on  one  side  and  non-Comrau- 
st  nations  on  the  other.  There  will 
no  declaration  of  war.  No  atomic 
apons  will  be   used.    No  guided 
issiles  will  be  used.    No  strategic 
>mbers  will  be  used.  No  sea  battles 
11  be  fought.  First  there  will  be  an 
war  between   fighter   planes   for 
ntrol  of  the  air,  which  will  be  in- 
cisive or  won  by  the  non-Commu- 
ts.    This  will  settle  nothing  and 
:  non-Communist  force  will  look 
jund   for   somebody    to    take    the 
:>und  and  settle  the  war.  Since  only 
few  ground   troops  are  available, 
decision   will    either   go    to    the 
mmunists  or  will  be  delayed  a  year 
ile  the  non-Communist  countries 
i  assemble  some  unwilling  civil- 
s,  train  them  as  soldiers,  and  put 
'm  on  the  battlefields,  to  die  or  be 
imed  for  a  cause  in  which  they 
not  interested. 


JIT* 


'La  Quebrada"  Acapuko  Mexico. 

ACAPULCO 

the  world  famous  seashore  resort 
of  enthralling,  unforgettable  and 
mysterious  beauty,  where  nature 
stands  forth  in  singular  magnificence. 
Rugged  cliffs,  snow  -  white  beaches 
surrounded  by  exotic  tropical  vegetation. 
Here  you  can  enjoy  unexcelled  surf-bathing, 
boating  and  exciting  deepsea  fishing. 
Splendid  hotels,  incomparable  sunsets  and 
dancing  under  starry  skies. 

You'll  be  really  happy  vacationing  in  Mexico. 

MEXICO  awaits  you.     Your  travel  agent  will  tell  you. 

MEXICAN   GOVERNMENT  TOURIST  BUREAU 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA  310$  Wilshlre  Blvd.  ;  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y.  630  Fifth  Ave.  No.  801    Rockefeller  Center. 

CHICAGO,  ILLINOIS  27-E.  Monroe  Street  Suite  No.  304  :  SAN  ANTONIO;  TEXAS  209  E.  Travis  Street 

HOUSTON,  TEXAS  809  Walker  Ave.  :  MONTREAL,  CANADA         1255  Phillips  Square,  Suite  No.  206 

MIAMI   FLORIDA  45  Columbus  Arcade  •  TORONTO,  CANADA  20  Carlton  Street 

NEW  ORLEANS,  LOUISIANA  203  St  Charles  Street  •  LA  HABANA,  CUBA       Calle  23,  No.  72  •  La  Rampa,  Vedado. 


SELLS   FIRST   ARTICLE 

TO   LOOK   MAGAZINE 

HALFWAY     THROUGH 

COURSE 

■■   an   article    in   answer   to 
h   appeared  in  Look 
The  article  drew  an  unusual 
reader     response     ami     mine     was 
chosen  as  the  best.  The  editor  ex- 
Interesl   in  the  tai 
'■  '      N.I.A.     Course    and 
heck    I    received    more    than 
for      it."— Glenn      Dunlap 
Paii  i  ii  tile,    Ohio 


Why  Can't 
You  Write? 

It's  much  simpler 
than  you  think! 

CO  many  people  with  the  "germ"  of 
writing  in  them  simply  can't  gel 
started.  They  suffer  from  inertia.  Or  thej 
set  up  imaginary  barriers  to  taking  the 
hist   step. 

Many  are  convinced  the  held  is  con- 
fined to  persons  gifted  with  a  genius  for 
writing. 

Few  realize  thai  the  great  bulk  ol  com- 
mercial writing  is  done  by  so-called  "un- 
known-." Noi  only  do  these  thousands  of 
men  and  women  produce  mosl  oi  the 
fiction  published,  but  countless  articles 
on  business,  world  affairs,  home  making, 
hobbies,  travel,  local,  club  and  church 
activities,     etc.,     as    well. 

Such  material  is  in  constant  demand. 
Every  week  thousands  of  checks  for  $25, 
$50  and  $100  go  out  to  writers  whose 
latent  ability  was  perhaps  no  greater 
than  yours. 

The    Practical    Method 

Newspaper  work  demonstrates  that  the  way  to  learn 
t"    write    is    by    writing!    Newspaper  editors 

waste  no  time  on  theories  or  ancient  classics  The 
story  is  the  thing.  Everj  copy  "cub"  goes  throu 
course  ol  practical  criticism-  a  training  that  turns  out 
""•"■■  -uei-cs.stul  authors  than  any  other  experience 
_  That  is  whj  Newspaper  Institute  of  America  base 
its  writing  instruction  on  the  Cops  Desk  Method  It 
starts  and  keeps  you  writing  in  your  own  home  on 
your  own  time.  And  upon  the  rery  kind  ol  actual 
assignments  given  daily  to  metropolitan  reporters  Thus 
you  learn  by  doing,  not  bs  studying  the  individual 
styles  or   model   authors. 

Each  week  your  work  is  analyzed  constructively  by 
practical  writers.  Gradually  they  help  to  clarify  your 
own  distinctive  style.  Writing  soon  becomes  easj 
111  Profitable,  too,  as  you  gain  the  "professional"  touch 
that  gets  your  material  accepted  bs  editors.  Above  all. 
you  can  see  constant  progress  week  by  week,  as  your 
faults    are  eorreeted   and   your   writing   ability   grows. 

Have  You  Natural  Ability? 

Our  FREE  Writing  Aptitude  Test  will  reveal 
whether  or  not  you  have  natural  talent  for 
writing.  It  will  analyze  your  powers  of  observa- 
lion,        your        imagination        and        dramatic        instinct. 

You'll     enjoy     taking     this      test.      There      is      i 

or  obligation.  Simply  mail  the  coupon  below, 
today.  Newspaper  Institute  of  America.  One 
Park  Avenue,  New  York  16,  N.  Y.  (Founded 
1925.)      (Licensed    by     State     of    N.     Y.) 


P  One 


(Approved  Member, 
National    Home    Study   Council) 


Newspaper   Institute  of  America  . 

One  Park  Ave.,  New  York  16,  N.  Y.  , 

Send  me  without  cost  or  obligation  your  Writing  J 

Aptitude  Test  and  further  information  about  writing  ! 
for    profit    as    promised    in    Harpers.    April. 

Mr. 

Mrs I 

Miss 

Address    ' 

City       Zone               State  I 

(All    correspondence   confidential.    No    salesman    will  ' 


call  on  you. ) 


17-D-598 


Copyright   1957,    Newspaper    Institute   of   America 


PERSONAL  and  otherwise 


Among    Our    Contributors 


POINTERS     FOR     SPIKS 

WARREN    UNNA'S  arti- 
cle on  CIA-"Who  Watches 

the  Wan  Inn. in?"  (p.  46)— is  the  lust 
report  on  that  important  agenq  .is 
a  governmental  institution.  The 
main  hallmark  of  CIA,  as  the  pub- 
lit  sees  it,  is  an  awesome  secrecy— 
a  polic)  which  often  provides  inci- 
dents  ol  glorious   absurdity. 

Bill  Gold,  columnist  for  the  Wash- 
ington Post,  recently  commented  on 
the  bollixes  that  may  result  from 
interservice  conflicts  in  secrecy.  They 
may  have  their  use,  he  pointed  out, 
citing  the  case  ol  a  non-secret  Soviet 
technical  report  which  circulated 
among  seven  of  our  government 
agencies.  All  seven  translated  it, 
classified  it  as  "secret,"  and  filed  it 
away. 

"We  know  that  Red  spies  will  try 
to  steal  anything  we  mark  'secret,' " 
said  Mr.  Gold.  "So  we  put  a  'secret' 
stamp  on  practically  everything. 
This  prevents  spies  from  stealing 
selectively,  and  forces  them  to  take 
pot  luck.  And  we  further  reduce 
their  mathematical  chances  of  steal- 
ing something  of  value  by  stuffing 
our  files  with  things  they  already 
know. 

"The  latter  technique  is  also  use- 
ful in  getting  spies  transferred  from 
Washington.  When  microfilm  reach- 
ing Moscow  turns  out  to  be  nothing 
but  a  translation  of  an  old  Russian 
report,  some  secret  agent  is  likely 
to  find  that  his  next  assignment  is 
in  Siberia,  digging  non-secret  salt. 

"Instead  of  criticizing  our  policy 
on  secrecy,  patriotic  citizens  should 
be  thinking  about  ways  to  augment 
it. 

"I  move  that  all  grocery  lists, 
baseball  averages,  and  material  writ- 
ten on  the  walls  of  telephone  booths 
be  classified  'secret.'  That'll  really 
drive   'em   nuts." 

.  .  .  Warren  Unna  prepared  his  re- 
port on  CIA  in  Washington,  where 
he  covers  national  affairs  for  the 
Post  and  Times  Herald.    Another  of 


Mr.  Tuna's  notable  jobs  of  repon 
ing  was  a  series  in  the  Post  whicl 
was  reprinted  in  the  Congressiona 
Record  and  was  rounded  up  in  In 
Harper's  article  in  May  1956,  "Re 
publican  Giveaways." 

SPEAKING     OF     J  A  Z 

.  .  .  When  Benny  Goodman  pei 
forms  May  25-31  in  the  America 
Theater  on  the  Brussels  Fail 
Ground,  he  and  his  orchestra,  sextel 
and  trio  will  be  writing  a  double 
si. n  red  chapter  in  the  history  d 
American  jazz.  First,  to  judge  Iron 
Nat  Hentoff's  "What's  HappeniB 
to  Jazz"  (p.  25),  the  prescntatioj 
ol  a  lull  jazz  concert  in  a  situatioi: 
ol  great  prestige  is  a  rarity  in  i| 
sell.  And.  in  the  second  place,  th 
Goodman  orchestra  will  be  backe< 
In  the  Westinghouse  Broadcasts 
Company— a  new  departure  in  pr: 
vate  sponsorship  foi  public  ends  tha 
should  delight  not  only  the  per 
formers  and  Howard  S.  Cat  11  man 
LJ.S.  Commissioner  to  the  Fait  (h 
said  he  was  "overjoyed"),  but  alsi 
all   good  jazz   fans. 

Mr.    Hentoff,    who    has    been    cc 
editor    of    two    volumes    about    jazs 
(Hear  Me   Talkin'   to   Ya   and    Th 
Jazz  Makers),  is  working  on  anothi 
history  of  jazz   to  be   published   b 
Rinehart  this  year.    He  contribuj 
articles  on  jazz  to  several  magazinj 
writes    "liner"    notes   for   record 
bums,  and  shares  a  radio  series  oi 
WBAI-FM   with   Gunther   Schullei 


NEXT  month  Harper's  will 
institute  a  regular  feature  on 
jazz  recordings  by  one  of  its  edi- 
tors, Eric  Larrabee.  "Jazz  Notes" 
will  appear  in  the  New  Record- 
ings department.  Mr.  Larrabee 
is  a  member  of  the  board  of  ad- 
visers of  the  Institute  of  Jazz 
Studies  and  has  spoken  on  jazz 
subjects  for  the  New  York  His- 
torical  Society,  the  American 
Studies  Association,  the  Lenox 
School  of  Jazz,  and  the  American 
Festival  of  Jazz  at  Newport. 


P    &    o 

Women  of  distinction  have  re- 
ly won  sitting  rights  in  various 
Is  of  the  world— from  the  student 
ng-room    at    the    University    of 

Delhi  to  the  House  of  Lords 
xmdon.    But   no   such  luck  yet 

American  housewives.  "The 
k  Cure  for  Women"  (p.  33)  by 
ta  Jean  King  is  only  the  per- 
1  experience  of  one  wife,  but 
>uld   be   a   campaign   document 

new  declaration  that  woman's 

to  sit  down  begins  at  home. 
rs.  King  lives  with  her  husband 
two  preschool  children  on  the 

of  the  desert  in  Tucson.  Be- 
her  marriage  she  taught  occu- 
mal  therapy  at  the  University 
mthern  California,  was  a  thera- 
in  a  neuropsychiatric  hospital, 
worked  with  problem  children, 
hopes  to  teach  in  a  school  for 
"{capped  children  when  her  own 
md  daughter  are  older. 

3y  the  middle  of  February  this 
anybody  who  could  spare  a 
1  or  a  dime  for  a  newspaper 
1  have  a  daily  sheaf  of  economic 
asts  to  tide  him  over  the  reces- 
Unfortunately,  the  forecasters 
reed. 

ministration  officials  (said  Rich- 
E.  Mooney  in  the  Neiu  York 
s)  were  looking  to  the  next  fifty 
(that  is,  till  about  April  6)  as 
'bad  news"  period  for  the  na- 
1  economy. 

vile  Democratic  Senators  were 
lg  about  bread  lines  back  home 
emphis  or  Lorain,  the  president 
e  U.S.  Chamber  of  Commerce, 
M.  Talbott,  was  declaring: 
re  is  absolutely  nothing  wrong 
the  basic  economy.  .  .  .  We'll 
l  improved  and  changing  econ- 
along  about  June." 
publican  leader  of  the  House, 
h  W.  Martin,  Jr.  said  in 
rix  that  there  was  nothing 
5  that  "a  little  calmness,  corn- 
sense,    and    confidence    can't 

d  Harry  S.  Truman,  modulat- 
le  key,  wrote  in  his  syndicated 
in:  "There  is  nothing  seriously 
5  with  our  economy  now  that 
ous  and  enlightened  leadership 
>t  quickly  overcome." 
ce  there  is  something  peculiarly 
ssing  about  too  much  reassur- 
I  the  common  citizen  was  feeling 
r  more  jittery  after  these  pro- 


.with  Railway  Thrift  Coupons 


London  to  Glamis  (466  miles)  $70.02 


See  panoramic  views  of  Britain  from  comfortable  and 
swift,  modern  British  Railways  trains.  See  how  far  your 
dollars  go  with  Thrift  Coupons  .  .  .  1,000  miles  of  go-as- 
you-please  rail  travel  for  $21  (2nd  class)  ...  $31.50  (1st 
class).  Also  good  on  Irish  cross-channel  and  MacBrayne's 
steamers.  Additional  miles  at  commensurate  savings. 
Valid  for  six  months.  Buy  Thrift  Coupons  from  your 
travel  agent  before  you  feove.  Not  sold  overseas. 


BRITISH    RAILWAYS 


OFFICES  IN  NEW  YORK  •  CHICAGO  •  LOS  ANGELES  •  TORONTO 
Want  "planning  literature"?  Write  British  Railways,  9  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  York  20,  N.  Y.,  Dept.  F8-4 


The  more  you  know  about  Scotch, 

^  r       the  more 

Ballantine's 


I  .     s 


"21"  Brands  ,  1nt. 


N.Y.C.         86  PROO 

ALSO    IMPORTERS    OF    94.4    PROOF    BALLANTINE'S    DISTILLED    LONDON    DRY    GIN    DISTILLED    FROM    GRAIN 


24  practical,  tested  ways 
to  free  you  from  anxiety, 
fear   and   strain   .   .   . 

The  Art  of 

LIVING 

WITHOUT  TENSION 

By  David  Seabury 

In  this  much-needed  hook,  an  experi- 
enced ami  well-known  practicing  psy- 
chologist shows  you  how  to  enjo>  a 
confident,  full  life,  free  from  the  ten- 
sions of  today's  living.  \  nu  discover  how 
to  use  the  many  modern  tools  of  mental 
efficiency  now  available  to  help  you 
solve  pressing  problems  with  the  mini- 
mum of  effort.  You  learn  how  to  substi- 
tute the  amazing  process  of  association 
linkage  for  wearisome  mental  routines. 
You  find  new  sure-fire  methods  to  add 
zest  and   meaning  to  everything  you  do. 

Dr.  Seabury's  twenty-four  step  plan 
to  peace  of  mind  shows  you 

•  How  to  think  efficiently,  without  strain 

•  How    mental    imagery    can    help    you    get 
what   you    want   out    of    life 

•  How  to  use  your  creative  energy  to  elim- 
inate  tension 

•  How    "organized    thinking"    can    help    you 
break  old  habits  of  hesitation  and  fear 

•  How    to    establish    new    patterns    of    confi- 
dence  and   achievement 

•  How  to  make  intuition  and  inspiration  pay 
big  dividends 

•  How  role  playing  can  help  you  attain  your 
goals 

What  to  do  about  tension- 
creating  attitudes  .  . . 

Instead  of  vague  generalizations,  THE 
ART  OF  LIVING  WITHOUT  TENSION 
gives  you  specific  techniques  for  solving 
particular  problems,  and  successfully  meet- 
ing difficult  situations.  By  understanding 
and  applying  the  24  steps  in  this  hook  you 
have  in  \our  possession  the  power  to  con- 
trol strain  and  fulfill  your  desires — a  power 
that  once  aroused  functions  spontaneously 
without  conscious  effort. 

For  guidance  on  how  to  transform  your 
life  into  one  of  joy  and  success,  free 
from  insecurity  and  tension,  get  a  copy 
of  this  amazing  book  for 


—  Ten  Days'  Free  Examination j 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS 
51  E.  33rd  St.,  N.  Y.  16 


I  Gentlemen:  Please  send  me  THE  ART 
I  OF  LIVING  WITHOUT  TENSION  for 


10  days'  free  examination.  Within  that  i 

time  I  will  remit  S3. 95,  plus  a  few  cents  i 
mailing  charges,  or  return  it  postpaid. 

Name ' 


PERSONAL     &     OTHERWISE 


I 

..Zone State | 


Address 

City 

SAVE  !   If  you  enclose  payment,   publisher  will   pay    I 
mailing  charges.   Same  return  privilege.  5113   B    ■ 


nouncements  than  before  and  anx- 
ious to  get  at  an  analysis  which 
would  not  onh  suggesl  immediate 
action  but  outline  a  sound  long-term 
policy.  Ibis  is  what  Ross  M.  Robert- 
son's "Fouj  Steps  in  11. ill  the  slump 
—and  Avoid  Another"  (p.  34)  aims 
to  accomplish. 

Dr.  Robertson  is  directoi  ol  busi- 
ness history  studies  at  the  School  ol 
Business  at  Indiana  University.  He 
was  bom  in  Kansas  and  trained  at 
the  University  of  Kansas.  He  was 
Eormerl)  financial  economist  at  the 
Federal  Reserve  Bank  of  St.  Louis, 
and  his  book,  Histoid  of  the  Ameri- 
can Economy,  was  published  in  1955. 

...  In  "Country  Doctors  Catch  Up" 
(p.  40),  Marion  K.  Sanders  repot  is 
on  the  new  and  successful  group 
practice  techniques  that  are  bringing 
first-rate  medical  attention  to  people 
far  from  urban  medical   facilities. 

Mis.  Sanders  is  the  author  of 
Women  in  Politics,  a  former  editor 
and  writer  for  government  and  so- 
cial agencies,  and  a  suburban  New 
York  housewife  who  supports  the 
national  and  state  Democratic  com- 
mittees by  speaking  and  campaign- 
ing. Her  husband  (who  is  a  doctor) 
was  relieved  when  she  finished  the 
current  article,  on  which,  she  sa\s. 
he  served  as  a  twenty-four-hour-a-day 
consultant  for  several  months. 

Mis.  Sanders  is  now  working  on  a 
book  about  Mary  Wollstonecraft. 

THIS    WAY    OUT 

...  In  "Standing  Room  Only"  (p. 
54)  Arthur  C.  Clarke  summarily  dis- 
misses the  possibility  of  human 
emigration  to  outer  space  as  a  solu- 
tion to  Earth's  population  problem. 
Colonization  "never  helps  for  more 
than  a  few  generations,"  he  says. 
Though  he  may  be  right  in  the  long 
run,  all  the  same  we  might  find 
emigration  helpful  in  a  few  local 
and  immediate  crises. 

For  example,  the  Borough  of 
Manhattan  has  an  average  of  192 
dwelling  units  or  something  over 
600  persons  per  acre— a  high  density 
even  for  our  crowded  planet.  Ap- 
parently nothing  can  be  done  about 
the  quantity  of  people  who  insist 
on  living  there,  but  why  couldn't 
the  quality  be  improved  by  selective 
weeding  out? 

The  city  Fathers  could  begin  by 


loading  a  space  ship  at  the  Balk 
Pioneei  \o\agei\  might  be  lhos« 
t  ul\  adolesc  ents  who  were  suspej 
from  the  public  si  hools  this  wi 
A  vehicle  headed  Ol  T  woulc 
more  effit  ient,  permanent,  and 
gettable  (ban  any  ol  the  sto] 
quarters  that  have  been  sugg 
on  Ellis  Island  or  in  aband 
school   buildings  around   town. 

While  we  ate  at    ii.   why   not 
in    the   "problem"   families   who 
said    to   be  spoiling   the  good    if 
and     happy    atmosphere    ol     pi 
housing  projects  in   the  cit\? 

Poverty  would  not  have  to  be 
basis  of  choice,  as  it  may  see 
be  in  these  instances.  We  < 
sieve  out  some  definitely  mi< 
c  hiss  people  from  the  suburbs 
are  chiefly  responsible  for  the  t: 
jams  in  town.  At  all  vehicular 
proae  lies  to  Manhattan,  the  ant! 
ties  could  trap  those  thousand 
commuters  who  insist  on  drivin 
work  or  shop  in  their  private 
Thev  could  be  given  a  mere 
even  an  exciting,  choice— to  1 
their  cars  at  home  or  to  acre] 
subway  ride  to  the  Battery,  wl 
the    next    space    ship    waits. 

Aggressive  youngsters,  rowdy 
dies,   impatient  egotistic    commi 
—all  of  these  should  make  excel 
colonists  in  an  unknown  world, 
leave  a  good  deal   more   peace 
cptiet  for  us  straphangers  behim 

Arthur  Clarke,  who  discusses 
population  problem  on  a  wi 
scale  for  the  long  run,  is  an 
lish  writer  on  science,  a  wart 
radar  officer,  a  skin-diving  explo 
and  the  author  of  science  ficti 
Trained  at  King's  College  in  p 
and  mathematics,  he  is  a  Fell 
the  Royal  Astronomical  Society 
was  for  some  years  chairman  of 
British  Interplanetary  Society 
next  boo!;,  Voice  Across  the  > 
about  transoceanic  communicatic 
will  be  his  twentieth. 

...  At  the  time  of  his  death  a  v 
ago,  Joyce  Cary  had  received  so 
measure  of  the  recognition  that 
brilliant  novels  of  English,  Irish, 
African  life  deserved.  The  trile 
made  up  of  Herself  Surprised,  To 
a  Pilgrim,  and  The  Horse's  Moi 
has  recently  been  re-issued  in  c 
volume  by  Harper  &  Brothers,  w 
previously  brought  out  ten  of 
novels  in  America.    During  the  1 


i 
i 


P    &    o 

is  that  Cary  spent  in  bed  in 

d,  his  home,  he  was  working 
lew  novel;  and  he  had  finished 
nd  Reality,  a  personal  credo, 

will  come  out  next  fall. 
i  of  the  last  finished  stories  he 

is   the  one   that   appears   this 
i— "Happy  Marriage"    (p.  65). 

The  English  Disease"  is  diag- 
on  page  69  by  Norman  Mac- 

e,  who  is  on  the  staff  of  the 
"Statesman  and  has  twice  been 
or  party  candidate  for  Parlia- 
i  Mr.  MacKenzie  does  not  class 
\i  as  an  "angry  young  man." 

i  the   contrary,"   he   wrote    to 

,  "I  have  a  job  I  like,  a  charm- 

fe  and  two  daughters,  a  pleas- 

Dme,  and  I  can  travel  half  as 

as  I  would  like  to.  Why  should 

•y  about  a  society  which  treats 

well  as  this?    The  answer  is 

is  too  comfortable:  it  is  cor- 

me.    I  do  not  want  to  be 

I  want  to  be  challenged. 

ngland  today  seems  designed 

comfort  before  challenge." 

obody  is  more  aware  of  the 
uacy  of  American  schools  in 
ig  mathematics  than  the 
men  themselves.  At  their  Feb- 
neeting,  the  National  Associa- 
Secondary  School  Principals 
ed,  among  other  things,  that 
.hould  be  required  from  the 

through  the  twelfth  grade. 

this  curriculum  goes  into 
lowever,  the  questions  of  what 
)f  math  and  what  kind  of 
ig  will  certainly  have  to  be 
:d.  In  "Math  Even  Parents 
nderstand"  (p.  73),  Peter  F. 
*r  opens  them  up. 
Drucker  is  the  author  of  sev- 
fluential  books  on  the  chang- 
*anization  of  society  and  the 
iibilities  of  management.  The 
ecent  of  these  was  America's 
'wenty  Years. 

roes  Rorty  of  Flatbrookville, 
[ersey,  visited  Ireland  last 
r  and  wrote  "Return  of  the 
(p.  57).  As  well  as  a  poet, 
a    writer    on    nutrition    and 

i  Goodwin  Winslow  ("Plat- 
•efore  the  Castle,"  p.  38)  is 
hor  of  The  Springs  and  other 
and  verse.  She  lives  in 
i,  Tennessee. 


YES ...  a  Priest 
Forgive  Your 


You  may  not  accept  the  idea  of  confess- 
ing your  sins  to  a  priest,  as  Catholics  do. 

Perhaps  you  believe,  as  many  do,  that 
Confession  is  not  of  divine  origin . . . 
but  only  an  invention  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  And  possibly  you  will  insist 
that  God  alone  has  the  power  to  forgive 
sins  and  you  therefore  confess  directly 
to  Him. 

Catholics  know  that  Christ  Himself 
instituted  the  Sacrament  of  Penance, 
which  includes  Confession,  when  He 
said  to  His  Apostles:  "Receive  ye  the 
Holy  Ghost;  whose  sins  ye  shall  forgive, 
they  are  forgiven  them;  whose  sins  ye 
shall  retain,  they  are  retained"  (John 
20:22,23). 

If  they  were  faithful  to  these  instruc- 
tions, could  the  Apostles  have  neglected 
preaching  Confession  and  Penance  from 
the  very  beginning  of  their  ministry? 
They  and  their  disciples  went  every- 
where proclaiming  the  doctrine  given 
them  by  Christ,  establishing  churches, 
and  appointing  bishops  and  priests  upon 
whom  they  conferred  the  same  au- 
thority. 

Christ  was  not  speaking  in  parables 
when  He  said:  "Whose  sins  ye  shall 
forgive,  they  are  forgiven  them;  whose 
sins  ye  shall  retain,  they  are  retained" 
(John  20:22,  23).  No  words  could  be 
plainer.  And  the  subsequent  actions  of 
the  Apostles  leave  no  doubt  that  they 
understood  exactly  the  responsibility 
and  the  authority  vested  in  them. 

The  writers  of  the  Church,  whose 
testimony  bears  witness  to  the  tradition- 
al belief  and  practice  from  the  earliest 
days  of  Christianity,  insisted  on  Confes- 
sion as  the  necessary  means  of  regaining 
God's  favor.  They  tell  us  that  Confession 
was  made,  not  to  laymen  but  to  priests 
who  exercised  the  power  of  forgiving 
sins  by  virtue  of  Christ's  commission. 
Origen  and  St.  Cyprian  in  the  second 
century;  Pacian  and  Aphraates  in  the 
third,  and  St.  Chrysostom  and  St.  Augus- 


tine, in  the  fourth,  all  left  historical 
testimony  of  the  acceptance  of  the  Sac- 
rament of  Penance  by  the  first  Chris- 
tians. 

For  1,500  years,  the  faithful  of  all 
Christendom  confessed  their  sins  to  a 
priest,  just  as  Catholics  still  do  the  world 
over  today.  And  every  Catholic,  whether 
he  be  the  ruler  of  a  nation  or  the 
humblest  of  men,  must  be  truly  re- 
pentant and  must  confess  his  sins  if  he 
wants  God's  forgiveness. 

Holy  Scripture  clearly  tells  us  that 
Christ  DID  establish  the  Sacrament  of 
Penance.  If  you  want  to  know  more 
about  this  Sacrament  which  can  bring 
the  grace  of  God  into  the  most  sinful 
heart;  if  you  want  to  feel  a  new  and 
tremendous  inner  sense  of  spiritual  re- 
birth, write  today  for  our  free  pamphlet 
entitled:  "Yes  ...  A  Priest  Can  Forgive 
Your  Sins."  It  will  be  sent  free  on  your 
request,  in  a  plain  wrapper.  And  no- 
body will  call  on  you.  Ask  for  Pamphlet 
D-46. 


SUPREME  COUNCIL 
KNIGHTS  OF  COLUMBUS 
RELIGIOUS   INFORMATION   BUREAU 
4422   Lindell   Blvd.,  St.   Louis  8,  Mo. 

Please  send  me  your  Free  Pamphlet  entitled:  "YES 
...   A  Priest  CAN   Forgive  Your  Sins!"  D-46 

NAME , 


ADDRESS- 
CITY 


_STATE_ 


SUPREME        COUNCIL 

KI1IGHTS  of  COLUmBUS 

RELIGIOUS      INFORMATION      BUREAU 


4422      LINDELL      BLVD. 


ST.    LOUIS     8,     MISSOURI 


KNOW. 

STncmtberry,  variant  of  Knotberbv. 

Snow  {ric«),  v.  Pa.  t.  knew(ni«).  Pa.  pple. 
known  (n#>n).  Forms :  Inf.  i  cmiwan,  3-4 
cnaweCn;  .1-4  cnowe(n,  3  cuone(n,  4-5  cnowj 
3-5  kuawe.n,  3-4  knaun,  5  .S<\  knaue,  (5-7 
knau);  3-5  (3- .Sir,  and  «W.)  knaw;  3-4knowen, 
Cskncoweu,  3~5kuoue(n:  s-6kcou,6kJiowne), 
3-7  knowe,  (6-7  kno),  5-  know.  1'a.  t.  3-3 
crte'ow,  3  cneou,  csew,  cneu,  3-4  kneow,  3-6 
kueu,  (4  kneu^,  kneuh,  knej,  knev,  knuj.  5 
knecw,  knogh),  4-O  kueve,  3-  knew.  Also 
3  cnawed,  5  knowede,  9  dial,  kuowed.  /'a. 
1  crnVwen,  3-5  knawen,  3-4  knauen,  (3 
knauB(e),  4  knawe,  6  knaw,  7  $c.  knawne,  9 
ndttortk.  knawn;  3-5eEowe,r..  4  ^knoweE, 
(4  -an,  4-5  -yn),  4-3  k;iow(e,  (5  kno,  6  knouin, 
knoeu,  7  knouen),  O-7  knowne,  6-  known. 
Also  2-3  i-cnawe(n,  3  .cnowe(n,  2-4  i-, 
ykna(u)we(n,  -knowe(n.  knawed, 

kcaued,  kuaud,  4  (9  r/<Vi/.)  knowed.  [A  Com. 
Tcut.  and  Com.  ed  in  ling. 

alone  of  tin 
(.;c\ 

-chnr.au.  - 
Gotlic  ts  1 

vb.  1  '-'cut., 

=  OSlav.  .    ! ...  *?«<?-, 

whence  th 

I.  and 
ptive   71-71 u-aitir  .  Jiiu- 

know.     Gi  e  too!; 

(,f'<v,  ;  as  C.-X  7.'.. 

eaily  times  the  simple  vb.  arious 

losses ;  i:.  tt!  survived  only 

in  derived  forms;  in  Gothic  the  word  is  not  re- 
corded ;  i<)  ON.  the  pre?,  inf.  was  obs. ;  in  ON. 
and  OHG.  the'oritj.  .  t.  and  pa.  pplc. 

were  lost;  in  OHG.  and  OE.  the  vb.  was  app. 
known  only  in  composition,  as  in  OK.  gecnawaa, 
onaui-wan,  iicn&vxm.  The  first  of  these  may  be 
considered  as  the  historical  ancestor  of  MK.  and 
mA.knmu,  for  although  it  came  down  in  southern 
ME.  as  i'knoiven,y-hitnee,ti\t  prefix  was  regularly 
dropped  in  midi.  and  north.,  giving  the  simple 
Stem  form  aiaiucn,  kuav;{i>,  hiowe{n,  which  was 
well-established  in  all  the  main  senses  by  1:00 
(a  single  instance  being  known  a  I 100).  The  verb 
has  since  had  a  vigorous  life,  having  also  occupied 
with  its  meaning  the  original  territory  of  the  vb. 
Wit,  Ger.  viissen,  and  that  of  Can,  so  far  as  this 
meant  to  '  know '.  Hence  Eng.  know  covers  the 
ground  of  Ger.  wissen,  kenneti,  crkemun,  and  (in 
part)  k'innen,  of  J-'r.  covnattre 
iicvisu,  ce-gnescirc,  and  scTra 
and  ilfilvat  (oTJa).  But  i; 
lias  supplanted  know,  and 
equivalent  of  '  know '  in  all 
tion.  As  tcotdwcufasxuie 
in  form  iknewcjtf/^  Wtbi  '•!■ 
southen 

covi 

vera 

Teuto- 

difficulty  in  arranging 

Jactorily.     However,  as  die  word  isetymolog: 

related    to    Gr.    ytyv&citcti',   L.   {g)nd~scere   and 

(g)nuvisse,  F.  cofir.ailrc  (:— L.  cognosce!*}  to  '  know 

by  the  Senses ',  Ger.  kbtmen  and  hernial,  Eng.  can, 

Int.  it  annears  uroner  to  start  with  the  uses  which 


KNOW. 

the  %||bal  forms  and   phrases  bv 
expres7V%  ;n  which  the  word  'knov 
an  existi^^Jjk  without  reference  to 
its  uses. 


°^ 


Kriezu,  in  i: 
as  'To  hold  for  in' 
is  held  tot*.-)  iiu  : 
Ward,  in  Emyil,  iir:i.    .   ■■ 

perceive  or  apprehend,  or  it 
prebend.  ..Thus  a  blind  in. 


al  sense, has  been  defin? 
ice  and 
foundation'.   M 
^^v.  Fsjc/wt.-gy, 
'Wmay  mea 
nun:. 

A'tww  abu 


of  L. 

KCIV 
N' 


e,  may  knoxi*  about  li? 

Otlwrs'hoIS 
:r  object  of  knowing  is  a  faT* 
Mid  tii.-.r  a!l  so-called  kitcwin 
persons  resolves  itself,  upon  analysis,  into  tiij 
-.as  their  existence,  idei 
.  etc.,  the  particular  fact  being  undj 
.'.,  or  by  a  consideration  of  ibe  kin.', ' 

lUt    th' 

■■  Mr.  G 

.'■.■'."  have  ithfercnt  n 

Mr.  G.  cr  ffoJHol  < 
uiry. 

I.  1.  trans.  To  perceive  ( 
at  with  one  pe; 
one  has  a  previous  motion  «| 
tify.     c-; 

-.if  min  fcder  me  hare 

■ 

tizoo  1 

-.2=0  (,\  * 

:■..".!  •. 

UnWM 

»SSo    I  Ccm/n.   23: 

pursuit,  they  knew  her  for  a  3>oi  tugall  Carrack.    17c 
y.Aii  not  be  cha 
in  fbr  the  same 
i-'/r/«>-(i84o!  26  Fvr  fot 
iS<Ss  KlNOSLEV  Iter, 
of  your  hiiir,  by  your  eve: 
HowiiLLS  Hal.  Jaunt.  f>-;,  I  wonder  how 
known  us  for  Amen. 

b.  Te>  recognize  or  distinguish,  or  b.< 
distinguish    (one    thing)  from    (ano"" 

c  '375  Cursor  Jlf.  6400  (Fairf.)  Mony  atte . 
gc-dc  fra  he  ille.    140S  Hoccleve  La.  r)in 
.we  feeste  (ro  peuaunce.    1598  S 
in.  iii.  44  We'll  teach  hir-i  10  know  Tti- 
1704  J'oi  K  Wimlsor  For,  175  : 
her  nymph  he  known.    1843  M.\c> 
i  III.  255  Uurney  loved  hi  1 
and  Johnson  just  knew  the  bell  of  Sail 
from  the  organ. 

e.  intr.  To  distinguish  btttvc 

1B64  Lowell  Fireside  Trar.  3  Let  hi  . 
good  and  evil  fruits. 

t  2.  trans.  To  recognize  in  some  capacity ;  to 
acknowledge;  to  admit  the  claims  or  authority  of. 
,==  Be  know  3.   Obs. 


with,   !.  1, 
things.     Chi 


cjsoo  Okmin  0S18  Ne  woliden  Jw^j  nohht  enawenn  No 
>atcv::i  batt  leJ5  v.-asrenn  ohht  binnfulle,  a  1300  Cursor  M. 
5x07  pat  we  haus  misdon  we  will  knau,  c  137s  Lay  Folks 
Mass  Bit.  iMS.  K.)  51  Lercd  &  lewed  pat  wil  ..  knowe  to 


:o  him  scl 

:•■■:  rriten  craH 

I  he  pi  cyst 
U    i/su/;t,    V 

:  order  lo  rcjH 

xj.ciience  of  (somefl 

lave   experienced,  1) 

>ne.     Also_/%'.  of  inanfl 

egative  forms  of  cxprcssionl 

*39°  Gowkr  Con/,  j.  7  Justice  of  lawc  tho  was  hoMe.'.J 

ciiees  knewen  rio  debat.    5591  Shaks.  T;t;o  Cent.  1.  iii.  nSj 

haning  knowne  no  trauaile  in  his  youth.      1697  Diyi? 

'.- .    '. 

kno 

bat   the  perl 

1879  R. 

>.aj\.n 

under  the  name  oli%fam:t't3fai&mwB.on\\>  ca 
:837  Cooperative  A'etvs  XVIII.  2.12  The  tiinht.rse.areil 

«vV,^r  i<  Xvhnit-nllv  l-nnyn  :.s  '  I 

The  Oxford  English  Diction 


To  KNOW— to  want  to  know 


People  talk  now  about  the  importance  of 
KNOWING,  of  the  new  rush  to  get  more 
Americans  to  know  more  things. 

Both  the  importance  and  the  rush  are  true 
enough;  there  can  be  no  argument  about  that. 

But  what  is  even  truer  is  that  wanting  to 
know  is  half  the  battle,  that  the  longing,  the 
hunger,  the  appetite  for  knowing  are  in  them- 
selves a  kind  of  victory. 


So  it  is  that  our  sudden  upgrading  of  mei 
who  KNOW  is  a  tremendous  good  which  i 
developing  throughout  the  land. 

In  schools  and  colleges,  on  newspapers  anc 
networks  and  to  TIME's  writers,  researchers 
and  editors,  this  upsurge  of  desire  for  wider 
surer  knowing  is  cause  indeed  for  celebration 

TIME— The  Weekly  Newsmagazine 


J[ 


IH 


Harper 

MAGAilziNE 


WHAT'S  HAPPENING 

TO  JAZZ 


NAT   HENTOFF 

Over  the  sound  of  clinking  glasses  and 

cash  registers,  the  musicians  are  fighting 

to  be  heard  ...  to  get  jazz  out  of  the 

night  clubs  and  into  the  concert  hall. 

TE  N  years  ago  the  world  of  jazz  might  have 
been  flat  for  all  that  anyone  outside  of  it 
knew  or  cared.  Inside  were  the  musicians,  with 
their  various  dialects  and  dialectical  persuasions; 
the  relentless  critics,  contentious  and  insecure; 
and  the  small  outposts  of  lay  partisans  for  the 
music,  themselves  divided  into  merciless  squads 
of  heretic-hunters.  For  curious  outsiders  the 
terrain  was  too  forbidding  to  venture  into  alone, 
and  they  could  find  few  reliable  guides  or  guide- 
books. 

For  "popular"  music  there  was  a  huge,  quick- 
sand audience,  but  it  either  didn't  know  that 
jazz  existed  or  else  was  scared  off  by  its  socially 
disreputable  connotations  and  its  challenges  to 
inhibition.  For  classical  music  there  was  of 
course  a  proudly  discriminating  public  which 
thought  of  jazz— if  and  when  it  had  to— as  in- 
distinguishable  from    those   faceless  night   cries 


of  childish  doom  and  tadpole  love  that  arise 
from  the  swamplands  of  "pop  music." 

In  the  past  decade,  however,  a  startling  change 
has  taken  place  in  the  status  of  jazz— or,  more 
accurately,  in  the  extent  to  which  its  existence 
is  admitted.  Stimulated  by  the  expansion  of  the 
LP  record  industry,  the  audience  for  jazz  has 
notably  increased.  Among  the  indexes  have  been 
the  expanding  attendance  at  jazz  "festivals"  and 
the  traveling  all-star  troupes— "package  shows" 
is  the  blunt  trade  term— and  the  growth  of  night 
clubs  specializing  in  jazz,  though  this  segment 
of  the  industry  is  incorrigibly  erratic. 

A  further  indication  has  been  the  unprece- 
dented space  that  jazz  now  gets  in  the  non- 
specialist  press.  A  few  newspapers— such  as  the 
New  York  Times,  the  San  Francisco  Chronicle, 
the  Boston  Globe,  the  Boston  Traveler,  and  the 
Washington  Post— have  engaged  resident  critics. 
The  New  Yorker  and  the  Saturday  Review  carry 
regular  jazz  coverage;  and  it  is  encouraging  that 
the  work  of  Whitney  Balliett  in  the  New  Yorker 
and  Martin  Williams  in  the  American  Record 
Guide  is  more  perceptive,  and  certainly  better 
written,  than  the  average  level  of  material  in 
trade  magazines  like  Down  Beat  and  Metronome. 
In  Balliett,  Williams,  and  John  S.  Wilson  of  the 
Times,  mature  guides  for  the  perplexed  have 
at  last  appeared. 

While  radio  and  TV  remain  largely  apathetic, 
when   not   actively  hostile,   it  is   some  measure 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


of  change  that  CBS-TV's 
"Seven  Livelv  Arts" 
series  was  willing  to 
devote  one  of  its  few  re- 
maining hours  tlii-.  win 
ter  to  jazz— and  that, 
shortl)  thereafter,  Steve 
Allen  was  able  to  put 
on  an  "all-star"  jazz  I  V 
program  that  at  leasi 
had  a  sponsor,  il  not 
much  else.  A  sizable 
number  ol  educational 
I-  \I  stations  now  in<  hide 
a  ( ourse  on  jazz,  at  one 
time  or  another,  as  nat- 
urally as  a  series  on  geo- 
politics. And  for  more 
than  three  years  now 
John  Wilson  has  been  conducting  "The  World 
of  Jazz,"  the  first  jazz  program  on  New  York's 
classical-music  station,  WQXR— a  weekly  half- 
hour  that  is  now  transmitted  to  over  fifty 
countries  by  the  Voice  of  America  and  Radio 
Free  Europe. 

Afore  substantial  books  on  jazz  have  been  pub- 
lished in  the  past  five  years  than  in  the  previous 
twenty-five,  among  them  the  first  thoroughly 
analytical  study  by  a  critic  who  is  also  a  mush  ian, 
Andre  Hodeir"s  Jazz:  Evolution  and  Essence. 
There  is  a  lucid  introductory  history,  most 
valuable  for  its  account  of  pre-jazz  origins,  in 
Marshall  Stearns'  The  Story  of  Jazz;  and  there 
are  Leonard  Feather's  omnium-gatherums  of 
biography,  history,  criticism,  and  miscellany, 
The  Encyclopedia  of  Jazz,  The  Encyclopedia 
Yearbook  of  Jazz,  and   The  Bool;  of  jazz. 

In  recent  years  the  impressive,  and  occa- 
sionally astonishing,  breadth  and  depth  of  in- 
terest in  jazz  abroad  has  been  recognized  by  the 
State  Department  itself.  For  example  the  Dizzy 
Gillespie  band— despite  its  outrage  to  the  aes- 
thetic sensibilities  of  Senator  Ellender— swung 
through  a  successful  tour  of  the  Middle  Fast  and 
Latin  America  under  official  auspices  in  1956, 
and,  early  last  year,  the  Department  sent  the 
Wilbur  de  Paris  band  on  a  three-month  trek 
through  Africa.  For  some  time  now  the  most 
popular  service  of  the  Voice  of  America,  from 
Europe  to  the  Pacific,  has  been  the  daily  two-hour 
jazz  program  prepared  and  announced  by  the 
Voice's  exceptionally  capable  jazz-expert,  Willis 
Conover. 

Even  Russia— where  attempts  were  formerly 
made  to  exorcize  jazz  as  an  especially  noxious 
form   of   bourgeois    decadence— is    beginning    to 


come  around.  The  music  is  welcomed  officially, 
though  from  a  firmly  parochial  viewpoint.  Ac- 
cording to  Max  Frankel  in  the  New  York  Times, 
the  organ  of  the  Ministry  ol  Culture.  Sovetskaya 
Kultura,  has  declared  that  "there  is  nothing 
wrong  with  jazz  as  a  'genie'  if  it  can  be  de- 
veloped into  a  'native,'  thai  is  a  Russian,  jazz." 
rhroughoul  Western  Europe  and  South  Amer- 
ica—and on  such  new  frontiers  as  Warsaw, 
Ceylon,  Tokyo,  and  Bombay  ma}  now  be  found 
jazz  magazines  and  groups  of  dedicated  if  de- 
rivative jazzmen.  Indeed,  the  prestige  ol  the  jazz 
musician  is  usuall)  higher  abroad  than  it  is  here, 
a  situation  thai  has  drawn  to  Europe  a  few  jazz 
expatriates,  mostly  Negro,  who  prefer  the  psychic 
income  there  to  the  possibilities  of  larger  but 
more  ambiguous  gains  at  home. 

In  America,  in  tact,  though  the  audience  is 
multiplying,  the  jazz  musician's  relationship  to 
it  is  about  what  it  was  ten  years  ago.  The  condi- 
tions in  which  the  music  is  played  have  changed 
very  little.  The  places  that  book  jazz  musicians 
and  the  agents  who  manage  them  continue  to 
handle  jazz  as  though  it  were  "entertainment." 
comparable  to  Perry  Como,  strip-teasers,  and 
trampoline  acts.  During  the  same  period  jazz  has 
increasingly— and,  in  retrospect,  inevitably— be- 
come a  music  to  listen  to,  rather  than  dance  to 
or  drink  to,  but  it  is  not  so  treated  in  practice. 

"What  good."  one  composer-pianist  asked  re- 
cently, "is  all  the  publicity  il  we  still  have  to 
play  most  of  the  time  to  audiences  who  act  as 
if  they're  at  home  watching  television?" 

YOUNG     MEN     OF     JAZZ 

THE  problems  of  the  musician  with  his 
audience  are  by  no  means  new;  Mozart 
must  have  made  the  same  complaint.  But  jazz 
itself,  on  the  other  hand,  was  Ear  more  functional 
when  it  originated  in  the  South,  the  Southwest, 
and  along  the  Atlantic  seaboard  a  hall-century  or 
more  ago.  The  music  (not  then  called  "jazz") 
was  played  for  parades,  funerals,  dances,  bor- 
dellos, and  other  social  activities.  Many  of  the 
early  jazzmen  worked  at  other  jobs  during  the 
day  and  regarded  their  music  as  an  accepted 
way  to  participate  in  community  life  as  well 
as  a  chance  for  extra  income.  They  did  not 
think  of  themselves  as  "artists." 

Gradually  the  jazz  musicians  developed  a  de- 
gree of  self-consciousness.  By  the  'thirties  there 
were  books,  magazines,  critics,  discographers,  and 
fervent  fans  to  question  them  on  all  manner  of 
abstruse  points.  But  so  long  as  jazz,  for  the 
musician,  remained  primarily  an  improvisational 


WHAT'S     HAPPENING     TO     JAZZ 


27 


kick,  there  was  little  conflict  between  his  needs 
and  his  listeners'  demands.  Some  musicians  of 
that  era  in  fact  preferred  an  audience  that  was 
entertaining  itself  with  talk  and  bibulous  laugh- 
ter, since  they  were  then  freed  to  play  and  im- 
provise entirely  for  themselves.  During  the 
'thirties,  in  any  case,  if  Art  Tatum  or  Roy 
Eldridge  or  Lester  Young  found  no  pleasure 
in  playing  for  pay,  he  could  seek  it  in  after-hour 
jamming  for  an  audience  of  musicians. 

For  the  young  modern  jazzman,  however,  this 
kind  of  extra-curricular  release  is  neither  so  easy 
to  attain  nor  so  fulfilling.  For  one  thing,  there 
is  much  less  all-night  jamming,  a  fact  that  sad- 
dens many  of  the  jazzmen  whose  roots  go  back 
to  the  'twenties  and  'thirties. 

"The  other  guys  have  the  gigs  [jobs]  today," 
explains  Roy  Eldridge,  forty-six,  "and  they  don't 
want  you  to  play  with  them  if  you  don't  play 
their  things."  The  "other  guys"  are  the  younger 
men;  their  "things"  are  the  arrangements  and 
originals  that  every  organized  modern  unit  has 
carefully  built  from  within  itself. 

Solo  improvisation  remains  essential  to  modern 
as  well  as  swing-era  jazz,  but  increasingly  the 
improvising  emerges  from  the  context  of  group 
expression.  For  a  number  of  young  jazz  musi- 
cians, the  transitory  pleasures  of  improvising, 
however  intense,  are  no  longer  enough  of  a  goal. 
They  want  to  communicate  to  an  audience  a 
durably  constructed,  whole  performance  in 
which  the  improvising  and  the  writing  are 
organically  interrelated.  Nearly  every  group  that 
stays  together  long  enough  is  working  toward 
its  own  body  of  music  in  addition  to  the  im- 
provisational  "styles"  of  its  soloists. 

As  a  result,  the  members  of  many  of  these 
groups  become  angry  and  discouraged  when  they 
have  to  perform  for  raucously  inattentive  night- 
club patrons  or  shrill  adolescents  in  large 
auditoriums.  One  exasperated  leader,  Charles 
Mingus,  won  a  Pyrrhic  victory  over  a  normally 
aggravating  audience  about  a  year  ago  at  New 
York's  Cafe  Bohemia.  He  cut  through  the  babble 
by  announcing  grimly: 

"We  will  now  have  an  audience  participation 
number.  We  will  play  four  bars.  Then  you 
break  glasses  and  talk  and  generally  make  noise 
for  four  bars.  Then  we'll  play  again.  The  title 
of  the  song  is  'Reverse  Psychology.'    Dig?" 

The  audience  was  intimidated  into  silence  for 
a  number  or  two,  but  the  next  set  was  as  noisy 
as  ever. 

This  concern  on  the  part  of  young  jazzmen 
with  building  a  group  identity  is  also  a  product 
of  the  past  ten  years.    In  early  jazz,  during  the 


first  two  and  a  half  decades  of  this  century,  there 
had  been  collective  improvising  in  which  the 
soloist  emerged  from  but  did  not  dominate  the 
group  (for  'Nexample,  Louis  Armstrong:  1923 
with  King  Oliver's  Creole  Jazz  Band,  Riverside 
RLP  12-122).  In  time,  however,  the  soloist  pre- 
dominated, except  for  those  rare,  uniquely  co- 
hesive units  like  the  Duke  Ellington  band  of 
the  'thirties  and  early  'forties,  and  the  Count 
Basie  bands  of  roughly  the  same  period.  (A 
superior  Ellington  program  can  be  heard  on  In 
a  Mellotone,  Victor  LPM-1364,  while  Basie  is 
well  represented  in  large  and  small  band  settings 
in  Lester  Leaps  In,  Epic  LG-3107.)  But  Elling- 
ton, Basie,  and  a  few  other  exceptions  aside, 
the  'thirties  were  marked  by  the  ascendancy  of 
the  improvising  soloist. 

BIRTH     OF    THE    COOL 

\\  /HEN  several  young  musicians  of  the 
W  late  'thirties  became  bored  with  what 
they  regarded  as  the  static  jazz  language  of  that 
time,  and  started  to  explore  more  complex  har- 
monies and  rhythms,  what  is  now  termed 
"modern  jazz"  began  to  emerge.  At  first,  these 
experiments  were  made  primarily  by  soloists, 
most  notably  the  late  Charlie  Parker,  within  a 
customary  setting  of  rhythm  section  and  perhaps 
two  horns  in  the  front  line.  But  eventually,  in 
the  late  'forties,  some  of  the  modernists  began 
to  wonder  if  their  ephemeral  performances  might 
be  made  more  cohesive  and  durable,  and  the 
arrangements  and  compositions  might  become 
strong  and  resilient  enough  to  stand  by  them- 
selves night  after  night  and  not  be  entirely  de- 
pendent on  the  unpredictable  improvising  power 
of  a  given  musician  on  a  given  evening. 

An  influential  first  step  in  this  direction  was 
made  in  1949-50  by  the  Miles  Davis  nine-piece 
sessions,  with  writing  by  Gil  Evans,  Gerry  Mulli- 
gan, John  Lewis,  and  others  (Birth  of  the  Cool, 
Capitol  T-762).  During  the  next  few  years  other 
units  combined  group  expression  with  individual 
improvisation;  in  some  there  was  less  actual 
writing  than  parts  developing  out  of  trial-and- 
error.  Examples  were  the  sextet  and  quartet  of 
Gerry  Mulligan  (Mainstream  of  Jazz,  EmArcy 
36101  and  Gerry  Mulligan  Quartet  in  Boston, 
Pacific  Jazz  1228).  Other  carefully  integrated 
combinations  in  which  solo  improvising  was  still 
important  were  the  Modern  Jazz  Quartet  (Fon- 
tessa,  Atlantic  1231);  Jimmy  Giuffre's  trio  (The 
Jimmy  Giuffre  3,  Atlantic  1254);  Charles  Mingus' 
Jazz  Workshop  (The  Clown,  Atlantic  1260);  and 
the  more  informal   but   still   disciplined    Miles 


28 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


Davis    Quintet    ('Round    About   Midnight,    Co- 
lumbia CL-949). 

At  the  same  time,  there  was  a  growing  concern 
among  jazz  musician-writers  as  a  whole  for  more 
challenging  frameworks  than  had  previously  ex- 
isted. Jazzmen  began  to  be  impressed  with 
the  possibilities  for  "The  Future  of  Form  in 
razz,"  the  title  of  the  most  illuminating  article 
yet  printed  on  the  subject,  by  Gunther  Schuller 
in  the  Saturday  Review,  January  12,  1957.  The 
successful  writers  were  invariably  those  who  de- 
veloped forms  from  within  the  materials  and  tra- 
ditions of  jazz  itself,  instead  of  grafting  classical 
devices  onto  jazz:  George  Russell,  (Jazz  Work- 
shop, Victor  LPM-1372);  Teddy  Charles  and 
other  young  modern  writers  (Tentet,  Atlantic 
1229);  Andre  Hodeir  (American  Jazzmen  Play 
Essais,  Savoy  12104);  Bill  Holman  (whose  Quartet 
is  contained  in  Shelly  Marine's  Volume  5,  Con- 
temporary 3519);  Gil  Melle  (Primitive  Modem, 
Prestige  7040);  and  several  others,  including 
the  unclassifiable  and  pervasively  influential 
Thelonious  Monk  (Brilliant  Corners,  Riverside 
12-226).  There  were  also  the  more  extended 
writings  of  Jimmy  Giuffre  and  of  John  Lewis, 
musical  director  of  the  Modern  Jazz  Quartet;  and 
there  had  always  been  Duke  Ellington,  the  most 
significant  of  the  early  shapers  of  more  viable 
forms  from  within  jazz. 

There  are  enough  players  to  execute  such 
music  accurately,  since  nearly  all  the  young  jazz- 
men are  now  well  trained  in  the  technique  of 
their  instruments  and  can  read  with  nearly  as 
quick  fluency  as  their  classical  contemporaries. 
Furthermore,  many  of  the  adventurous  young 
improvisers  have  become  interested  in  the  move- 
ment toward  more  challenging  forms  and  have 
been  co-operating  with  the  writers  and  leaders. 
But  where  were  these  works  to  be  played? 
The  discouraging  context  for  "serious"   jazz 


listening  provided  by  even  the  few  well-con- 
ducted night  clubs  is  self-evident.  A  stray  con- 
ventioneer can  destroy  the  line  of  a  composi- 
tion for  musician  and  listener  alike  with  a  couple 
of  thirsty  bellows;  and  most  of  the  "regular" 
jazz  club  patrons  lack  the  patience  to  sit  through 
extended  compositions.  The  large  package  show  s. 
another  major  opportunity  lor  jazz  work,  arc 
even  more  constricting  to  the  musician.  These 
magnified  vaudeville  programs,  euphemized  as 
"concerts"  by  their  promoters,  are  clamorously 
advertised  on  the  basis  of  the  "names"  on  the 
bill;  and  a  musically  logical,  balanced  program 
is  the  least  concern  of  the  management.  The 
audiences  for  these  shows  have  come  to  expect 
more  and  bigger  names  each  season;  and,  for  the 
most  part,  they  are  hungry  for  immediate  thrills 
—usually  involving  their  ability  to  recognize  a 
currently  popular  record. 

"you're   on  !'' 

WHAT  of  the  "festivals"?  The  largest, 
most  publicized,  and,  unfortunately, 
most  representative  is  the  American  Jazz  Festival 
at  Newport,  Rhode  Island.  Each  year  its  pro- 
moters try  to  cram  as  many  "name"  units  as  possi- 
ble into  each  program,  and  the  result  of  this 
assembly-line  circus  has  been  described  by  Oscar 
Peterson,  a  skilled,  sensitive  pianist,  in  an  in- 
terview in  the  Canadian  magazine,  Mayfair: 

"No  one  gets  to  prove  anything.  One  of  the 
nights  we  were  at  Newport  ...  I  think  we  did 
seven  minutes.  It's  ridiculous  to  say  you're  going 
to  book  Basie,  Ellington,  Shearing,  Garner, 
Brubeck,  Condon,  and  so  on,  to  play  all  on  one 
night.  Everybody's  standing  around  and  sud- 
denly one  of  the  organizers  rushes  up  and  says: 
'Okay,  George  Shearing!  You're  on!  You've  got 
four  minutes!'  ...  I  remember  John  Lewis  of 
the  Modern  Jazz  Quartet  complaining  to  me  that 
after  all  the  fuss  and  trouble  getting  to  the  place, 
he  sat  down  and  found  the  piano  was  way  out 
of  tune." 

Peterson  was  indulging  in  hyperbole.  Shear- 
ing's unit  more  likely  received  twenty  than  four 
minutes,  but  is  twenty  minutes  enough?  It  is 
as  if  Emil  Gilels  were  invited  to  make  a  guest 
appearance  at  Carnegie  Hall  to  play  half  a 
Beethoven  sonata.  At  another  of  the  "festivals," 
the  New  York  Jazz  Festival  at  Randall's  Island, 
the  promoter  last  year  instructed  his  "acts"  not 
to  play  any  ballads  lest  the  impatient  adolescents 
in  the  audience  become  restive.  Not  even  at 
Lewisohn  Stadium  are  conductors  ordered  to 
omit  all  adagio  movements. 


WHAT'S     HAPPENING     TO     JAZZ 


29 


These  examples  of  conspicuous  vulgarity  do 
not  characterize  all  the  summer  jazz  rites.  There 
are  satisfactions  and  hope  lor  the  future  in  the 
jazz  section  of  the  Stratford,  Ontario,  Shake- 
spearean Festival.  The  initial  Great  South  Bay 
Jazz  Festival  on  Long  Island  last  year  gave 
promise  to  musicians  that  its  promoters  were 
actually  more  concerned  with  music  than  with 
emulating  Mike  Todd.  And  there  is  beginning 
to  be  room  for  "serious"  modern  jazz  programs 
in  the  summer-long  series  of  concerts  presented 
at  the  Music  Barn,  an  adjunct  of  Music  Inn  in 
the  Berkshires  (here  also  is  the  new  School  of 
Jazz,  whose  first  three-week  semester  took  place 
in  the  late  summer  of  1957). 

Music  Inn,  Stratford,  and  a  few  other  sites  for 
jazz-making  are  the  exception,  however,  in  the 
life  of  the  jazz  player,  most  of  whose  working 
time  is  spent  in  night  clubs  and  to  a  lesser  extent 
in  "packages."  Many  of  them  have  had  and  are 
continuing  to  have  extensive  musical  training; 
many  approach  their  careers  with  a  dedication 
comparable  to  that  of  their  classical  contem- 
poraries. They  feel  their  playing  should  be 
judged  as  music  and  not  by  show-biz  criteria. 

Miss  Jutta  Hipp,  for  example,  an  intent  young 
German  pianist  who  emigrated  here  two  years 
ago,  was  able  to  find  work  at  first  because  of 
the  exotic  promotional  possibilities  of  a  lissome, 
long-haired  European  jazz-girl  with  an  improb- 
ably exact  last  name.  In  the  past  year,  however, 
her  employment  opportunities  have  dwindled 
dishearteningly;  the  main  reason  for  her  "de- 
cline" given  by  club  owners  and  bookers  is  that 
she  doesn't  smile  enough. 

Another  cumulative  burden  for  many  young 
musicians  is  the  demand  to  "create"  six  nights 
a  week  for  several  hours  each  night  or,  in  cities 
like  Boston,  seven  nights  a  week.  Jazz  of  quality, 
whether  traditional  or  modern,  is  an  exhausting 
craft.  Granted  that  some  jazzmen  have  fixed 
patterns  of  improvisation,  sometimes  for  whole 
choruses,  they  still  must  be  able  to  project  some 
degree  of  "spontaneous"  conviction  for  many 
hours  every  night;  and  for  their  own  self-respect, 
as  well  as  the  respect  of  their  colleagues,  they 
must  avoid  jazz-by-rote  as  much  as  they  can. 
The  wife  of  one  notable  jazz  player-composer 
was  angered  recently  when  a  critic  complained 
that  her  husband  hadn't  been  writing  much 
lately.  "How  can  he  have  the  strength  to  write," 
she  demanded,  "alter  he  gets  home  from  compos- 
ing on  his  horn  six  hours  a  night  all  week?" 

There  remain  as  well  a  number  of  modern  jazz 
musicians  who  hardly  get  work  at  all  because 
they   are   considered    too    "esoteric,"   and   many 


provocative  and  possibly  significant  modern  jazz 
compositions  do  not  get  played  in  clubs  or  at 
the  usual  run  of  jazz  "concerts."  To  my  knowl- 
edge, none  of  George  Russell's  compositions  in 
his  Victor  Jazz  Workshop  set— one  of  the  most 
important  albums  since  the  Miles  Davis  1949-50 
Capitol  date— has  even  been  performed  in  a  New 
York  night  club,  let  alone  in  other  cities.  Where 
can  John  Lewis,  Jimmy  Giuffre,  or  J.  J.  Johnson 
have  their  compositions  in  Columbia's  extraor- 
dinary Music  for  Brass  album  (CL  941)  per- 
formed? 

This  past  June,  Brandeis  became  the  first  uni- 
versity to  commission  a  concert  equally  divided 
between  compositions  by  jazz  writers  and  clas- 
sical composers  interested  in  jazz.  Columbia, 
because  of  the  taste  and  consistent  "public 
service"  perspective  of  its  jazz  album  head, 
George  Avakian,  did  record  the  works.  But, 
again,  where  can  they  be  heard  "live"?  They  are 
meant  by  their  composers  to  be  performed  before 
an  audience  again  and  again,  but  Birdland  is  not 
the  place  for  a  selection  from  the  Music  for  Brass 
or  the  Brandeis  set,  nor  is  the  middle  of  a 
Count  Basie-Sarah  Vaughan-Al  Hibbler-Jeri 
Southern-and-many-more  package  show. 

XANADU    BLUES 

MANY  musicians,  however,  persist  in  be- 
lieving that  somewhere  there  must  be  a 
paradise  in  which  the  pleasure  domes  are  filled 
with  quietly  attentive  audiences,  the  hours  are 
reasonable,  the  concerts  are  not  supermarket 
sales,  and  the  festivals  are  festive.  There  are, 
for  instance,  widening  opportunities  along  the 
college  circuit.  A  few  units  like  Dave  Brubeck's 
and  the  Modern  Jazz  Quartet  are  spending  an 
increasing  amount  of  their  time  playing  one- 
nighters  at  universities  rather  than  spending 
weeks  in  night  clubs.  The  presence  of  an  audi- 
ence that  has  come  primarily  to  listen,  and  the 
knowledge  that  the  two  or  two-and-a4ialf  hours 
involved  will  not  be  followed  by  several  more 
the  same  night,  can  have  remarkably  energizing 
and  satisfying  effects  on  many  modern  groups. 

There  are  also  a  few  young  promoters  who  are 
beginning  to  act  as  though  they  thought  the 
stifling  package  shows  were  not  the  most  de- 
sirable way  of  presenting  jazz  "in  concert." 
George  Wein  of  Boston,  who  oddly  enough  is 
responsible  for  the  Newport  Grand  Guignol,  is 
proceeding  in  quite  another  direction  in  his 
fall  and  winter  selves.  He  has  booked  Dave 
Brubeck's  quartet  by  itself  in  Symphony  Hall  in 
Boston,   the   Modern  Jazz   Quartet   by   itself   in 


30 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


Jordan  Hall,  and  Enroll  Garner  alone  in  Sym- 
phony Hall.  This  autumn,  he  instituted  the 
first  tour  under  his  newest  banner,  Concert  [azz 
productions,  presenting  the  Brubeck  quartet— 
again  by  itself— along  a  circuit  of  some  fifteen 
cities  in  Canada  and  the  United  States,  a  num- 
ber of  which  are  not  sufficiently  populous  to 
be  visited  by  the  omnibus  package  productions 
(among  them  Trenton,  Bridgeport,  Manchester, 
Hartford,  and  Montreal). 

"It  is  only  in  the  small  concerts  of  this  sort," 
notes  the  ringmaster  of  Newport,  "that  the  artist 
can  be  presented  with  the  dignity  that  he  de- 
serves. .  .  .  Instead  of  .  .  .  the  large  tours  once 
a  year  with  six  important  jazz  artists  in  an  all- 
star  show,  the  aim  is  to  present  five  or  six 
smaller  concerts  featur- 
ing a  different  single 
artist  each  time  in  many 
towns,  large  and  small." 

Mr.  Wein  simplified 
his  intentions  for  a 
Doivn  Beat  reporter:  "In 
the  classical  field,  we 
have  a  Rubinstein,  a 
Horowitz,  or  a  Menuhin 
who  can  attract  many 
persons  in  a  single  eve- 
ning's concert.  There 
should  and  can  be  the 
same  thing  with  jazz  per- 
formers. Can  you  pic- 
ture a  'battle  of  cellos' 
between  Casals  and 
Piatigorsky?  The  classi- 
cists don't  need  that  and 
neither  does  jazz." 

Even  the  two  major  classical  concert  agencies, 
Columbia  Artists  Management  and  National 
Artists  Corporation,  are  trying  out  a  jazz  pres- 
entation this  season  along  their  long-established 
classical  wheels.  Neither  management  office  has 
used  much  imagination  in  forming  its  units  but 
the  start,  however  stumbling,  does  suggest  that 
the  jazz  musician  may  not  be  forced  forever  to 
depend  solely  on  the  atavistic  jazz  agencies. 
Columbia  and  NAC  are  not,  I  should  add,  that 
much  more  serene  a  sanctuary  for  musicians 
than  the  Associated  Booking  Corporation,  the 
Willard  Alexander"  office,  Shaw  Artists,  and  the 
Gale  Agency  of  the  jazz  world;  but  at  least  the 
classical  offices  do  not  have  to  have  explained 
to  them  what  the  word  "concert"  means. 

Most  of  the  jazz  bookers,  for  example,  are 
happily  idiotic  in  the  way  they  arrange  college 
jazz  concerts.    A  few  jazz  leaders  like  Brubeck 


and  Mulligan  are  strong  enough  in  will  and 
di  awing  power  to  insist  on  being  booked  alone, 
but  other  jazz  combos  find  themselves  twisted 
into  packages  for  the  colleges  that  are  still  in- 
appropriately and  sometimes  grotesquely  mixed. 
As  jazz  begins  to  move  out  of  the  night  clubs, 
a  background  in  basic  jazz  aesthetics  is  going 
to  be  absolutely  essential  for  all  bookers  in 
jazz  agent  ies:  Unfortunately,  the  heads  of  the 
agencies  are  most  in  need  of  instruction  and 
least  aware  of  that  melancholy  fact. 

Another  set  ol  answers  may  be  worked  out  by 
George  Wein  as  he  gains  experience  with  his 
■Concert  Ja//  Productions."  A  third  alternative 
was  explored  in  the  spring  of  1957  by  George 
Avakian  of  Columbia  Records.  With  his  classical 
violinist  wife,  Anahid  Ajemian,  Avakian  pre- 
sented a  series  of  four  "Music  for  Moderns"  con- 
certs at  Town  Hall  in  New  York  for  which  they 
carefully  combined  leading  classical  artists  and 
several  of  the  most  eloquent  modern  jazz 
groups. 

One  Sunday  afternoon  program,  for  example, 
included  the  Modern  Jazz  Quartet  in  an  original, 
impressionistic  film  score  written  by  its  music 
director,  John  Lewis;  Erik  Satie's  "Sports  et 
Divertissements"  played  by  William  Masselos 
with  narration  by  Virgil  Thomson;  and  Debussy's 
"Sonata  for  Flute,  Viola  and  Harp"  played  by 
John  Wummer,  Walter  Trampler,  and  Edward 
Vito.  Similar  series  in  other  cities  could  combine 
the  audiences  for  both  jazz  and  classical  music, 
and  could  especially  provide  the  jazz  musician 
a  job  in  which  how  much  he  smiled  would  not 
be  the  main  consideration. 


TOO    QUIET    OUT    THERE 

AC  A  U  T I O  N  should  be  entered  here,  how- 
ever. Even  if  optimum  concert  opportuni- 
ties were  opened,  the  exodus  from  the  jazz  night 
clubs  is  not  likely  to  make  them  obsolete.  There 
will  always  be  jazzmen,  including  a  sizable 
number  of  young  players,  who  will  feel  happier 
in  clubs,  intermittent  drunks  notwithstanding. 
"I  get  very  nervous,"  singer  Anita  O'Day  said 
recently,  "when  it  gets  completely  quiet  out 
there.  I  feel  better  when  the  audience  is  balling 
it  up  a  little;  then  I  can  relax  too." 

And  Jimmy  Giuffre,  one  of  the  most  active 
writer-leaders  in  modern  jazz,  told  a  Toronto 
reporter:  "1  don't  particularly  like  to  play  jazz 
in  a  concert  hall.  I  like  the  attention  you  get, 
but  not  the  stiffness,  the  formality.  I  prefer  the 
easy  relaxed  atmosphere  of  a  club— but  without 
the  noise!" 


WHAT'S     HAPPENING     TO     JAZZ 


31 


There  are  other  jazz  groups  flexible  enough 
in  temperament  and  repertory  to  be  effective  in 
several  different  contexts.  Julian  "Cannonball" 
Adderley,  who  accurately  calls  himself  a  modern 
traditionalist,  can  be  equally  at  home  at  a 
college  concert  or  playing  at  a  neighborhood 
bar.  (He  is  now  with  Miles  Davis,  who  prefers 
night  clubs.)  Similarly,  the  best  bands  of  Count 
Basie  and  Woody  Herman  will  communicate 
directly  and  fully  almost  anywhere.  Herman,  in 
fact,  is  skeptical  about  any  move  to  transfer 
jazz  from  the  clubs. 

"Take  jazz  out  of  the  saloons?"  he  told  Ralph 
Gleason.  "Then  it  won't  be  jazz.  It's  hard  to 
keep  that  naturalness  in  a  concert  hall." 

But  a  growing  number  of  the  young  players 
disagree  with  Herman,  and  there  are  also  older 
jazzmen  who  would  have  much  to  say  to  a  con- 
cert audience.  Major  contributors  to  the  jazz 
language  like  Lester  Young,  Coleman  Hawkins, 
or  Ben  Webster  have  rarely,  if  ever,  been  pre- 
sented in  concert  with  the  care  and  quality  of 
accompaniment  they  have  long  deserved. 


THE    DUKE,    WHO    GOOFED 

FO  R  a  time  the  man  who  came  closer  than 
any  other  jazz  musician  to  escaping  from  the 
round  of  requests  at  dances  and  at  night  clubs, 
and  creating  a  concert  situation  in  which. he 
alone  determined  what  he  would  play,  was  Duke 
Ellington.  From  1943  to  1950  Ellington  pre- 
sented an  annual  Carnegie  Hall  program  of  sub- 
stance and  durable  originality,  usually  repeated 
at  Symphony  Hall  in  Boston  and  other  similar 
locations.  But  sometime  during  the  'forties,  he 
apparently  became  discouraged  and  fell  back, 
until  quite  recently,  on  his  impressive  repertory 
of  standard  originals.  For  subsistence,  he  had 
to  depend  largely  on  the  grinding  routine  of 
one-nighters  in  ballrooms  and  at  private  parties, 
interspersed  with  occasional  stays  at  night  clubs 
and  resorts.  Some  of  the  men  in  the  band  are 
said  to  have  grumbled  that  Ellington  was  play- 


ing only  a  small  percentage  of  his  book,  and  that 
some  of  his  new,  provocative  material  wasn't 
being  played  at  all.  He  answered  that  the  kind 
of  dates  and  the  kind  of  audiences  they  had  to 
play  for  demanded  familiar  material.  And  so, 
what  could  have  been  the  most  fruitful  decade 
of  his  career— following  upon  the  "Black,  Brown, 
and  Beige,"  "Deep  South  Suite,"  "New  World 
A-Comin',"  and  other  works  of  the  'forties- 
became  instead  a  time  in  which  Ellington  the 
"entertainer"  superseded  Ellington  the  first 
major  jazz  comj:>oser. 

When  a  chance  came  in  the  summer  of  1956 
for  Ellington  to  present  a  pair  of  concerts  at 
the  Stratford,  Ontario,  Shakespearean  Festival, 
he  chose  a  "sure-fire''  program  consisting  of  a 
few  pieces  of  some  consequence,  a  drum  exhi- 
bition, some  ormolu  vocal  numbers,  and  a 
couple  of  other  shallow  concoctions  aimed  at 
grabbing  the  attention  of  characteristic  night- 
club and  package-show  audiences.  But  the  Strat- 
ford audience  was  neither.  Many  of  those  pres- 
ent both  nights,  in  fact,  were  middle-aged  visitors 
to  Stratford  who  had  come  to  see  the  plays  and 
were  expectantly  curious  about  jazz. 

After  the  first  concert,  and  the  rather  mild 
audience  reaction,  Ellington  said  to  the  music 
director  of  the  festival,  "You  know,  I  goofed." 
The  latter  agreed  that  Ellington  should  have 
chosen  a  more  musically  substantial  program. 
So  strong,  however,  had  Ellington's  long-bred 
habit  become,  of  "entertaining"  to  keep  the 
band  and  himself  alive,  that  his  second  Strat- 
ford concert  was  the  same  as  the  first. 

The  fault,  if  that's  the  word  in  this  case,  is  not 
entirely  his.  He  has  never  had  a  booking  agency 
or  a  manager  who  knew  how  and  where  to  place 
a  leader  and  a  band  of  such  unique  quality  and 
value.  He  has  never  been  able  to  escape  from 
the  hungry  obscurantism  of  the  jazz  booking 
agencies,  which  have  kept  him  working  but 
under  such  conditions  that  he  decreasingly  had 
the  time  or  encouragement  to  continue  writing 
at  the  sustained  imaginative  level  of  which  he 
had  long  since  proved  himself  capable. 

This  year  at  Town  Hall,  as  part  of  the  "Music 
for  Moderns"  series,  Ellington  premiered  "Such 
Sweet  Thunder,"  a  loose  collection  of  twelve 
attempts  "to  parallel  in  miniature  some  of 
the  .  .  .  characters  in  Shakespeare,  sometimes 
to  the  point  of  caricature."  Most  of  the  sections 
were  thoroughly  agreeable,  though  rarely  mov- 
ing, but  the  "suite"  had  obviously  been  hastily 
patched  together  and  the  connection  of  its  parts 
with  the  characters  from  Shakespeare  purportedly 
depicted  was  so  quixotic  that  the  collected  works 


32 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


of  any  other  author  might  have  served  as  well. 
Even  at  this  concert,  before  an  audience  thai 
included  Dmitri  Mitropoulos  and  was  dearly 
billing  to  Listen  attentively,  Duke  could  not 
resist  his  characterise  half-mocking,  we-do-so- 
want-to-amuse-you  introductions.  \nd.  with  sad- 
dening  inevitability,  lie  ended  the  concert  by 
saying,  "We  l<>\e  you  madly,"  smiling  "cheese" 
through  it  all.  The  young  j.i//  trumpeter  Miles 
Davis,  a  devoted  admirer  ol  Ellington,  delivered 
a  one-line  review  on  his  way  out,  "Man,  that 
man  is  putting  everybody  on." 

Most  ol  the  young  modern  jazzmen  ate  un- 
likely to  come  (lose  to  Ellington's  creative 
achievements  hut  the)  do  not  want,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  "put  on"  anybody,  knowing  that  the 
form  ol  mocker)  this  phrase  connotes  is  as  much 
directed  against  the  sell  as  against  an  audience. 
The)  want  to  communicate  as  honestl)  ami  as 
deepl)  as  they  (an.  And  increasing  numbers  ol 
them  therefore  feel  that  the  time  has  come  to 
leave  the  places  where  jazz  has  hitherto  been 
played.  They  feel  that  much  ol  the  audience 
will  follow  them,  and  that  more  will  come  to 
hear  them  where  they  can  be  heard. 

END    OF    THE 
SAWDUST    TRAIL 

EARLIER  this  year,  a  report  of  a  confer- 
ence on  "The  Arts  and  Exchange  of  Per- 
sons" at  the  Institute  of  International  Education, 
stated  that  jazz  is  "...  a  valuable  means  of 
furthering  exchange-of-persons  programs  .  .  . 
hut  .  .  .  greater  emphasis  might  be  placed  on 
opportunities  for  study  in  these  fields  in  the 
United  States.  Jazz  is  the  stepchild  of  music  so 
far  as  institutions  are  concerned.  When  its 
name  is  mentioned  in  Congress,  politicians 
shudder.  On  the  other  hand,  foreign  intellectuals 
whom  we  wish  to  impress,  feel  that  jazz  is  an 
integral  part  of  American  music. 

"Very  few  serious  music  schools  in  this  coun- 
try," the  report  went  on,  "even  give  instruction  in 
jazz  or  popular  music.  It  is  ironic  that  at  the 
fuilliard  or  Eastman  schools  one  learns  how 
to  write  symphonies  or  operas  which  will  seldom 
be  performed  if  at  all.  .  .  .  We  believe  that 
courses  should  be  established  in  our  conserva- 
tories and  colleges  to  show  the  evolution  of  jazz, 
popular  music,  and  folk  music.  .  .  .  We  should 
take  our  jazz  seriously  if  we  are  to  have  a  really 
representative   international  program." 

The  report  is  accurate  as  far  as  it  goes.  But 
where  are  courses  to  be  established  for  concert 
bookers  and  personal  managers?  Although  many 


musicians  are  now  ready  for  it.  the  exodus  1mm 

the  night  dubs  will  not  take  place  until  a  new 
generation  ol  managers  and  hookers,  who  un- 
derstand what  the  musicians  want  and  need, 
have  established  a  place  lot  themselves  in  the 
music  business.  Until  that  lime.  Chat  lie  Mingus 
will  continue  to  tail  uselessly  at  night-dub 
audiences,  and  valuable  new  jazz  compositions 
will  be  performed,  il  at  all,  at  recording  studios, 
while  a  few  stray  concerts  provide  all  the  basic 
income  there  is  lor  the  experimental  jazz  writer. 
In  this  respect,  incidentally,  the  position  ol  the 
contemporary  jazz  composer  is  almost  identical 
to  that  of  the  classical  composer,  except  that  the 
former  docs  have  more  chances  to  be  recorded. 
The  record  companies,  as  far  as  that  goes, 
have  always  been  ahead  of  the  booking  agencies, 
club  owners,  and  package  producers.  So,  of 
course,  have  the  musicians.  But  the  men  who 
determine  where  and  how  the  jazz  musician 
works  continue,  lor  the  most  part,  to  (are  little 
about  the  musician  himsell  and  much  less  about 
lus  music.  They  are  gratified  at  the  growth  in 
popularity  and  acceptance  ol  jazz  within  the 
past  ten  years,  because  their  own  commissions 
have  increased  accordingly.  But,  as  far  as  the 
cultural  position  ol  jazz  is  concerned,  most  of 
the  middlemen  are  typified  by  the  agency  execu- 
tive who  was  angered  by  the  insistence  of  Erroll 
Garner's  manager  that  (..unci  would  do  only  one 
concert  a  night  during  a  proposed  recent  tour 
of  Britain.  The  agent  had  been  accustomed  to 
docile  jazzmen  who  were  rushed  through  Euro- 
pean tours  working  two  and  sometimes  three 
concerts  a  day. 

"Who  the  hell  do  you  think  Garner  is,  Rubin- 
stein?" he  demanded. 

"In  his  field,  he  is,"  answered  Martha  Glascr, 
one  of  the  rare  managers  of  ability  and  courage 
in  jazz.  "He's  a  creative  musician,  and  he's  not 
going  to  wear  himsell  out  doing  two  conceits 
a  night.  We  go  to  Britain  as  human  beings, 
or  we  don't  go  at  all." 

Mr.  Garner,  though  he  is  in  much  demand 
by  the  jazz  public  in  Britain,  visited  there  last 
year  as  a  non-working  tourist.  He  will  play 
there  in  the  future  only  if  his  wholly  reasonable 
conditions  of  one  concert  a  night  are  met.  If 
he  wins,  he  will  have  set  an  isolated  but  valuable 
precedent. 

It  will  take  many  such  precedents,  however, 
before  jazz  musicians  are  graduated  from  Bird- 
land  and  the  sawdust  trail  to  places  where  they 
can  reach  an  audience  without  competing  with 
cigarette  girls  who  sell  teddy  bears  or  hawkers 
for  programs  and  "special  Newport  hats." 


Lorna  Jean  King 


The  Work  Cure 
for  Women 


A-Ct^«.L_§ 


THIS  vague  put-upon  feeling  had  been 
bothering  me  for  some  time,  but  only  re- 
cently did  I  finally  realize  that  I'm  just  one  vic- 
tim of  a  vast  conspiracy.  Chances  are  that  any 
woman  who  has  seen  a  doctor— a  male  doctor- 
in  the  last  ten  years  has  had  the  same  kind  of 
experience. 

It  started  back  in  1950  when  I  had  to  go  to 
the  clinic  with  a  badly  infected  finger.  I  always 
get  wounded  in  the  annual  battle  with  the  rose 
bushes.  After  the  precautionary  tetanus  shot, 
I  wondered  what  to  do  for  the  finger. 

"Oh,  that,"  the  doctor  said  cheerfully.  "Noth- 
ing better  for  it  than  hot  soapy  dishwater  three 
times  a  day." 

I  was  somewhat  let  down,  since  I'd  been  re- 
hearsing a  speech  to  my  husband  about  the  im- 
possibility of  my  doing  dishes  for  at  least  a 
week. 

The  following  winter  I  came  down  with  a 
cold  which  vacillated  between  chest  and  sinuses 
for  several  days.  When  home  remedies  failed,  I 
called  on  a  throat  specialist.  After  the  usual 
sprays,  throat  paintings,  and  antibiotics,  he  said 
briskly: 


"You'll  be  fine  in  a  few  days— and  remember, 
there's  nothing  better  than  steam  for  these  con- 
gestions. Be  sure  to  inhale  the  steam  from  your 
dishwater,  and  turn  the  shower  on  full  blast 
while  you  clean  the  bathroom." 

"There's  a  good  deal  of  steam  involved  in 
ironing  clothes,  too,"  I  said  sourly. 

"Fine,  fine,"  he  said,  obviously  encouraged  by 
my  co-operative  attitude. 

That  evening,  when  my  husband  asked  why  I 
was  banging  the  dishes  around  so  viciously,  I 
countered  by  inquiring  why  it  was  that  when  he 
had  a  cold  the  doctor  always  told  him  to  go 
to  bed. 

Some  time  later  I  sprained  my  ankle.  I  told 
my  husband  it  hurt  too  badly  to  be  broken,  but 
he  insisted  on  rushing  me  to  the  orthopedist. 
Two  X-rays  and  $20  later,  the  doctor  was  taping 
me  up  with  a  professional  flourish. 

"I  suppose  I'll  have  to  stay  off  my  foot  for 
a  few  days,"  I  ventured. 

"Not  at  all,"  he  boomed.  "These  things  heal 
fastest  when  you  keep  on  using  them." 

I  mentioned  that  when  my  cousin  sprained  his 
ankle  they  told  him  to  stay  off  it  for  a  week. 

"Well,  circumstances  alter  cases,"  the  doctor 
said  evasively.  "I'll  tell  you  though,  it's  a  good 
idea  to  put  your  foot  up  occasionally  while  you 
are  sewing." 

"Thanks  a  lot,"  I  muttered. 

Not  long  after,  I  found  evidence  that  doctors 
will  apparently  stop  at  nothing.  The  following 
is  an  Associated  Press  dispatch  datelined  Calgary, 
Canada. 

To  housewives  who  aim  at  top  physical  con- 
dition: get  down  and  scrub  the  kitchen  floor. 
This  advice  comes  from  Dr.  D.  Plewes,  consult- 
ant for  Canada's  health  and  welfare  depart- 
ment, who  says,  "Some  of  the  best  exercises  for 
women  are  done  on  the  hands  and  knees  and 
utilize  floor  scrubbing  motions." 

I  was  busy  planning  a  counter-campaign  which 
would  persuade  doctors  to  prescribe  lawn  mowing 
instead  of  golf  for  middle-aged  males,  when  I 
discovered  I  was  in  what  used  to  be  called  "a 
delicate  condition."  My  husband  waited  on  me 
hand  and  foot— until  after  our  first  visit  to  the 
obstetrician. 

"Now  about  exercises,"  he  said  cheerfully. 
(Have  you  ever  noticed  how  maddeningly  cheer- 
ful doctors  are?)  "The  best  exercises  are  ones 
you  can  do  while  you  work  around  the  house. 
Bend  your  knees  and  keep  your  back  straight 
when  you  do  your  dusting.  Practice  deep  breath- 
ing while  you  wash  dishes  and—" 

"—Inhale  the  steam,"  I  said  absently. 


Ross  M.  Robertson 


Four  Steps  to  Halt  the  Slump 
— and  avoid  another 


A  former  Federal  Reserve  Bank  economist 

examines  the  cause — and  the  cost— 

of  the  present  slump,  and  outlines  the 

simple  measures  needed  to 

get  business  back  into  high  gear. 

FOR  the  third  time  within  a  decade  the 
American  economy  has  suffered  the  jolt  of 
a  business  slump.  Once  again  we  are  enduring 
the  waste  of  idle  men  and  equipment  as  total 
demand  falls  short  of  what  fully  employed  re- 
sources can  produce. 

The  current  recession  is  particularly  frustrat- 
ing   For  one  thing,  it  could  have  been  avoided 
by  prompt  and  imaginative  use  of  an  enlightened 
public  policy.    For  another,  it  has  been  marked 
by   unusually   serious   unemployment;    approxi- 
mately one-third  of  the  country's  major  labor- 
market  areas  already  have  reached  the  danger 
point  of  "substantial  labor  surplus."    Far  more 
significant,  though,  is  the  fact  that  the  present 
dip  portends  a  slowing  of  the  vigorous,  surging 
growth  of  the  economy  which,  up  to  the  mid- 
1950s  most  of  us  had  come  to  accept  as  normal. 
Actually,  there  is  no  need  for  apprehension. 
The  recession  can  be  halted  and  the  economy 
impelled    forward   at   or   near   its   astonishingly 
great  potential.    But   exhorting   consumers   and 
businessmen  to  have  faith,  while  depending  en- 
tirely upon  small  increases  in  spending  for  de- 
fense and  remodeling  post  offices,  will  not  do. 
To   achieve   an   economic  stability   required   by 
modern   standards,    the   government   must    take 
firm,  unequivocal  action-and  do  it  now. 

As  we  shall  see,  the  steps  to  full  employment 
and  consistent,  uninterrupted  economic  growth 
are  simple  enough.  Indeed,  they  are  largely 
procedural,  requiring  only  minor  changes  in  the 


agencies  responsible  for  stabilization  measures. 
But  before  deciding  what  ought  to  be  done,  we 
need  to  diagnose  our  current  ills  and  take  a 
careful  look  at  the  outmoded  economic  philoso- 
phy of  a  good  many  of  today's  policy-makers. 

a  "failure-to-grow" 
recession 

BY   THE  late  spring  of  1957  every  economist 
in    the   country   worth   his   salt   knew    that   the 
economy  was  faltering,  and  as  the  year  wore  on 
it  became  clear  that  if  even  "routine  prosperity 
were  to  persist  there  would  have  to  be  a  tall 
upturn  comparable  to  that  of  1956.  To  be  sure, 
the  national  income,  in  dollars  of  falling  pur- 
chasing   power,    showed    respectable    quarter-to- 
quarter  gains,  and  consumer  outlays  continued 
the  gentle   upward  drift   of  recent  years.    But 
when   the   figures  were   corrected   for   price   in- 
creases, it  was  apparent  that  actual  output  was 
little  more  than  holding  its  own.    The  Federal 
Reserve  index  of  industrial  production  bore  out 
the  conclusion  of  loss  of  momentum.    From  an 
all-time  high  of  147  in  December  1956  the  index 
declined  to  143  the  following  April  and  varied 
only  two  points  from  that  figure  through  Sep- 
tember, when  it  stood  at  144  (1947-49  =  100). 

In   the   fourth  quarter  of    1957,   as   everyone 
knows,  the  leveling-out  actually  became  a  down- 
turn   with  production  and  income   falling  and 
unemployment  rising  rather  rapidly.  What  must 
be  understood  is  that  we  already  were  in  trouble 
when,  for  nearly  a  year,  the  amount  of  goods  and 
services  produced  and  sold  held  about  constant. 
Why?  The  answer  is  easy.   In  the  postwar  era 
our  productive  capacity  has  grown  at  an  average 
rate  of  about  4  per  cent  each  year-the  result 
both  of  increased  productivity  and  of  an  increase 
in  the  quantity  of  our  resources,  including  labor. 
It  follows  that  when  business  activity  levels  out, 


FOUR     STEPS     TO     HALT     THE     SLUMP 


35 


excess  capacity  begins  to  appear.  Or  to  put  it 
the  other  way  around,  the  gross  national  product 
(the  amount  of  goods  and  services  actually  sold 
in  the  market  place)  has  to  increase  at  an  annual 
rate  of  4  per  cent  if  an  increasingly  productive 
labor  force  and  physical  plant  are  to  remain 
fully  employed. 

It  can  be  argued,  of  course,  that  we  need  not 
concern  ourselves  with  so  small  a  shortfall,  in 
present  dollar  figures  amounting  to  something 
like  |17  billion  a  year.  Indeed,  there  would  be 
little  cause  for  worry  if  the  increasing  sluggish- 
ness of  sales  did  not  react,  and  rather  quickly, 
on  businessmen's  expectations.  As  excess  capacity 
appears,  executives  begin  to  revise  downward 
their  planned  expenditures  on  new  plant  and 
equipment,  with  a  consequent  fall  in  activity 
in  the  industries  which  provide  these  goods.  As 
unemployment  appears  in  the  capital-goods  in- 
dustries, producers  of  consumer  durables— par- 
ticularly automobiles  and  appliances— feel  the 
pinch,  and  incomes  fall  further.  The  result,  as 
Professor  Robert  Turner  puts  it,  is  a  "failure-to- 
grow"  recession. 

How  serious  can  such  a  recession  become?  The 
answer  seems  to  be  that— in  spite  of  a  generation 
of  legislation  aimed  at  protecting  the  economy 
against  major  storms— recessions  can  still  become 
bad  enough  to  bring  a  politically  intolerable 
amount  of  unemployment. 

Let  us  assume  the  best,  though,  rather  than 
the  worst.  Let  us  suppose  that  industrial  pro- 
duction turns  upward  this  spring  or  early  sum- 
mer and  that  employment  rises  steadily  to  the 
end  of  the  year.  Even  under  this  most  optimistic 
assumption,  it  is  hard  to  see  how  levels  of  pro- 

POSTWAR    OUTPUT  OF 
GOODS    AND    SERVICES 


duction  and  income  can  be  much  higher  in  late 
1958  than  they  were  at  the  end  of  1956.  And 
under  no  circumstances  will  it  be  possible  for 
the  total  output  of  goods  and  services  to  reach 
the  postwar  trend  line  before  some  time  in  1959. 

A  glance  at  the  chart  on  this  page  suggests  how 
far  the  American  economy  has  missed  its  output 
potential  since  1955.  We  have  already  losfc  the 
addition  to  total  production  which  a  normal 
growth  rate  in  1956  and  1957  would  have  given 
us,  and  we  will  lose  more  in  1958.  Idle  resources 
will  cause  the  American  people  to  forgo  goods 
and  services  worth  at  least  $50  billion.  The  social 
cost  of  a  poorly  performing  economy  is  great 
indeed. 

Modern  economics  can  prescribe  a  remedy,  for 
economics  as  a  discipline  has  made  gains  in  the 
past  generation  comparable  to  those  in  the 
physical  and  biological  sciences.  But  the  pre- 
scriptions are  of  no  use  if  policy-makers,  whatever 
their  political  persuasions,  refuse  to  accept  them. 

ARTICLES    OF     FAITH 

UN  F  O  R  T  U  N  A  T  E  L  Y  f  or  the  cause  of 
economic  stability,  men  in  their  middle 
years  and  later— the  ones  who  are  running  things 
now— learned  their  economics  in  a  day  when  the 
subject  was  little  more  than  a  branch  of  phi- 
losophy. Unless  they  have  made  a  heroic  effort 
to  keep  up,  the  economic  principles  which  they 
absorbed  are  of  little  use  in  solving  today's 
policy  problems.  They  are  simply  articles  of  faith, 
embraced  with  religious  fervor,  that  stand  solidly 
in  the  way  of  responsible,  adequate  government 
action  when  it  is  required. 


BILLIONS  OF 
1957  DOLLARS 


RATIO  SCALE 


I  I    '    I    I  '   '    I     I    l    l    l    I   i    i    l    I    l    l    l    I 

1946  '48  '50 


1  i  i  i  1  i  i  i  1 1  i  i  I  '  i  '  I  i  '  '  I  '  i  i  I  i  i  i 


500 
450 

400 
350 

300 


'52  54  56 

SEASONALLY  ADJUSTED  AT  ANNUAL  RATE 


'58 


'60 


250 


DATA:    DEPARTMENT  OF  COMMERCE  AND 
BUREAU  OF  LABOR  STATISTICS 


36 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


Perhaps  the  sorriesl  oi  these  beliefs  is  the 
notion  that  somehow  or  othei  a  temporary  in- 
terruption in  economic  expansion  in  a  good 
tiling  for  the  economy  and  the  people  in  it.  Ml 
kinds  of  reassuring  figures  are  conjured  up,  in 
the  business  press  and  politic al  speeches,  to  sug- 
gest that  business  must  on  occasion  "catch  its 
breath"  or  "regroup  its  forces"  or  "digesl  its 
new  gains  in  capacity."  In  the  silliest  and  most 
vulgar  ol  these  images  the  slowing  eeonoim  is 
likened  to  an  inebriate  recovering  from  too  many 
martinis.  This  is  patronizing  nonsense.  Bad 
business  is  bad  for  business;  and  unemployment 
is  bad  for  workers.  As  Professor  [ohn  Lewis  has 
remarked,  "The  flexibility  and  efficiency  of  the 
productive  mechanism  is  greatest  when  activity 
is  expanding  steadily,  not  stalling.  And  certainly 
the  only  way  to  digest  new  capacity  is  to  use  it." 
Nor  can  we  blink  the  suffering  of  the  man  with- 
out a  job.  Character  is  not  built  in  the  degrada- 
tion of  unemployment  or  in  the  hardships  ol  a 
household  with  sharply  reduced  income. 

More  harmful,  though,  as  a  deterrent  to  posi- 
tive action,  is  the  fetish  of  a  balanced  budget. 
Because  a  family  or  a  business  cannot  long  allow 
outgo  to  exceed  income,  it  is  assumed  that  the 
federal  government  cannot  do  so  without  risking 
"national  bankruptcy."  But  this  simply  is  not 
so,  for  the  reason  that  a  sovereign  government 
can  always  pay  its  bills.  One  ol  the  first  princ  iples 
of  economics,  and  possibly  the  first  principle  of 
public  finance,  is  that  legitimate  and  necessary 
goals  of  government  should  never  be  sacrificed 
to  any  prejudgment  about  the  state  ol  the  budget. 
Of  course  it  should  sometimes  be  in  balance; 
there  are  also  times  when  it  should  be  in  surplus 
and  times  when  it  should  be  in  deficit. 

But  there  is  a  third  article  ol  faith  that  stands 
in  the  way  of  a  deficit  when  it  is  sensible  to  have 
one.  This  is  the  belief  that  there  is  something 
peculiarly  burdensome  about  the  public  debt. 
Business  executives  whose  firms  are  regularly 
borrowing  in  capital  markets,  because  it  is  often 
good  business  to  do  so,  somehow  can't  under- 
stand that  government  borrowing  may  be  as 
productive  as  corporate  or  individual  borrowing. 
Moreover,  the  federal  debt,  except  for  the  book- 
keeping costs  of  servicing  it,  is  burdenless.  In 
the  aggregate  it  places  no  pressure  on  the  econ- 
omy. We  do  indeed  owe  it  to  ourselves;  the 
$275  billion  of  debt  is  offset  by  $275  billion 
worth  of  financial  assets— i.e.,  government  securi- 
ties—owned by  some  American  or  an  American 
institution.  Even  the  interest  on  the  debt  repre- 
sents a  simple  transfer— from  citizens  as  taxpayers 
to  citizens  as  bondholders.    Nor  do  we  shift  a 


burden  to  our  children.  They  inherit  the  debt 
li.il)ilit\,  but  the)  inherit  an  ecpial  amount  of 
government  bonds.  And  I  suspect  that  our  chil- 
dren will  thank  us  lor  handing  this  country  over 
to  them  intact,  tree  ol  the  devastation  ol  war 
and  tooled  up  lor  the  scientific  adventures  ol  the 
next  generation. 

Sue  h  reasoning  is  so  easilv  followed  and  so 
patenth  logical  that  these  parts  ol  the  orthodox 
credo  might  well  be  dropped,  il  it  were  not  for 
the  fourth  article  ol  faith— the  one  with  just 
enough  sense  in  it  to  give  credence  to  the  other 
three.  A  good  many  sincere,  public-spirited  peo- 
ple are  convinced  that  the  gravest  danger  to  the 
United  States  lies  in  inflation.  The  papers  these 
days  are  lull  ol  warnings  that  we  must  take  care 
not  to  "strengthen  our  defenses  and  ruin  our 
economy  in  the  process." 

It  is  true  that  upward  pressures  on  prices 
probably  will  present  a  recurrent  problem.  His- 
torically, though,  the  United  States  has  had 
severe  bouts  with  inflation  only  during  and  im- 
mediately after  wars,  and  the  only  time  we  have 
suffered  a  runaway  inflation  was  during  the 
Revolution.  It  is  almost  inconceivable  that,  with 
present  American  capacity  to  produce,  we  should 
ever  be  threatened  with  the  kind  of  inflation 
that  breaks  an  economy  and  ruins  the  middle 
class.  Furthermore,  a  case  can  be  made  for  the 
assertion  that  inflation  has  sometimes  had  a 
salubrious  influence;  as  an  economic  historian 
I  can  vouch  lor  the  tact  that  some  of  our  greatest 
bursts  ol  economic  growth  have  been  in  times 
of  rising  prices. 

Nevertheless,  we  should  all  agree  that  the  ideal 
of  a  continuously  expanding  economy,  perform- 
ing at  or  very  near  its  potential  with  ti  constant 
price  level,  is  worth  striving  for.  The  point  that 
I  would  insist  on  is  that  stable  prices  should 
never  be  the  first  goal  of  public  policy  and  that 
in  the  present  crisis  other  objectives  clearly  have 
a  higher  priority.  At  the  moment,  we  cannot 
afford  to  indulge  the  high-minded  devotees  of 
the  anti-inflation  religion. 

STEPS     TO     STABILITY 

IT  I S  by  no  means  unlikely  that  political 
pressures  exerted  by  the  American  people  will 
result  in  the  actions  needed  to  ease  the  current 
economic  distress  and  provide  an  adequate  de- 
fense establishment.  More  than  once  in  the  past 
decade  the  architects  of  policy  have  responded  to 
voter  demands  which  ran  counter  to  the  faith. 
We  cannot,  however,  safely  wait  for  political 
pressures  to  build  up.    Four  steps— one  a  short- 


FOUR     STEPS     TO     HALT     THE     SLUMP 


37 


run  corrective  measure  and  three  for  the  long 
pull— should  be  promptly  taken. 

(1)  Unbalance  the  budget. 

It  would  be  folly  to  try  to  ride  out  the  current 
recession  with  the  budget  in  balance,  even  at 
the  high  level  of  $74  billion.  The  drift  of  the 
economic  indicators  plainly  calls  for  a  cash 
deficit  until  genuine  recovery,  including  a  reduc- 
tion of  unemployment  to  less  than  two  million, 
is  achieved.  Prudence  suggests  a  cash  deficit  for 
calendar  1958  at  least  as  great  as  this  year's 
probable  drop  in  business  plant  and  equipment 
expenditures— variously  estimated  at  from  $2.5 
to  $5  billion.  The  required  income  effect  can 
be  achieved  either  by  raising  expenditures  or 
by  cutting  taxes,  and  tax  reduction  has  the  ad- 
vantage of  speed.  My  own  preference  is  for  a 
15  per  cent  across-the-board  reduction  in  per- 
sonal income-tax  rates,  with  an  automatic  re- 
turn to  present  rates  in  January  or  April  of 
1959.  But  the  important  thing  is  to  get  quickly 
the  stimulating  effect  of  a  deficit  big  enough  to 
see  with  the  naked  eye. 

It  follows  that  there  should  be  an  end  to 
quibbling  over  raising  the  debt  ceiling  by  some 
amount  such  as  $3  or  $5  billion.  The  ceiling 
should  be  removed,  not  raised.  It  serves  no  good 
purpose,  and  it  keeps  us  from  employing  a  proper 
fiscal  policy.  Moreover,  we  have  had  enough  of 
the  undignified  subterfuges  of  the  Treasury  to 
keep,  legally  and  technically,  within  the  debt 
limit.  They  have  made  public  financing  need- 
lessly complicated  and  costly.  And  surely  we 
should  have  no  more  of  that  kind  of  parsimony 
which  keeps  operational  aircraft  on  the  ground 
to  save  gasoline  or  reduces  the  rate  of  progress 
payments  to  Air  Force  contractors. 

(2)  Make  the  Federal  Reserve  System  politi- 
cally responsible. 

For  the  longer  run  objective  of  avoiding  future 
trouble,  it  is  imperative  to  link  the  Federal 
Reserve  System  directly  to  the  executive  branch 
of  the  government.  The  present  arrangement, 
under  which  the  Board  of  Governors  can  and 
does  fly  in  the  face  of  an  Administration's  wishes 
and   responsibility,   is   intolerable. 

I  hope  that  I  will  not  be  misunderstood.  Per- 
haps no  agency  in  government  approaches  its 
task  in  the  spirit  of  dedication  shown  by  the 
Federal  Reserve  System.  Its  officers  are  men  of 
integrity  and  great  capabilities.  The  network  of 
economic  intelligence  maintained  by  the  Board 
staff  and  the  research  departments  of  the  twelve 
Reserve  Banks  is  unrivaled  in  this  country. 


The  more's  the  pity,  then,  when  System  mone- 
tary policies— exerted  too  long  and  too  vigor- 
ously—contribute to,  if  they  do  not  actually 
induce,  a  downturn.  Unquestionably,  Federal 
Reserve  authorities  are  more  sensitive  to  the 
threat  of  inflation  than  to  the  prospect  of  slump 
and  unemployment.  For  example,  as  we  emerged 
from  the  recession  of  1953-54,  the  monetary 
authorities  were  shifting  from  ease  to  restraint 
late  in  the  fourth  quarter  of  1954— long  before 
ordinary  mortals  knew  that  a  boom  was  begin- 
ning. But  Federal  Reserve  moved  with  no  similar 
alacrity  to  ease  bank  reserves  and  reduce  interest 
rates  when,  by  the  midsummer  of  1957,  it  was 
perfectly  obvious  to  less  knowledgeable  observers 
than  Federal  Reserve  economists  that  the  econ- 
omy was  heading  into  a  storm.  Indeed,  the  Sys- 
tem took  the  unexpected  and  ill-advised  action 
of  raising  the  discount  rate  in  August,  tightening 
the  capital  markets  almost  unbearably. 

This  move  was  not  made  carelessly  or  in  haste. 
Federal  Reserve  authorities  are  for  the  most  part 
convinced  that  hyperactivity  and  inflation,  not 
depression  and  deflation,  now  pose  the  great 
questions  of  public  policy.  They  have  thus 
turned  to  price  stability— rather  than  stability  of 
employment  and  income— for  their  chief  guide  to 
money  management.  Until  August  of  1957,  how- 
ever, it  could  be  assumed  that  Board  members 
and  their  top  advisers  would  be  content  simply 
to  stop  price  increases  and  accept  the  new  levels 
as  accomplished,  if  undesirable,  facts  of  life. 
Events  of  the  late  summer  suggested  that  Chair- 
man Martin  and  a  majority  of  the  Federal  Open 
Market  Committee  felt  that  certain  "inflated" 
prices  would  have  to  come  down,  that  temporary 
over-capacity  in  some  lines  would  bring  them 
down,  and  that  an  easier  money  policy  would 
not  be  instituted  until  they  did  come  down. 
Although  the  Chairman  denied  any  intention  of 
inducing  a  recession,  the  austere  money  and 
credit  policy  pursued  vigorously  into  November 
—long  after  demand  weakness  had  materialized— 
unduly  postponed  the  boost  to  certain  kinds  of 
expenditure  that  cheaper  and  more  accessible 
money  would  have  given: 

Had  the  System  not  been  pretty  well  insulated 
from  political  demands  by  its  cherished  "inde- 
pendence," remedial  action  would  have  come 
much  sooner  than  it  did.  There  are,  I  suppose, 
some  advantages  to  keeping  the  monetary  author- 
ities protected  from  every  political  tremor  coming 
up  from  the  grass  roots.  For  this  reason  few 
would  advocate  the  nationalization  of  our  central 
bank,  following  the  lead  of  most  other  countries 
of  the  world,  which  would  make  it  in  effect  an 


38 


HARPERS     MAGAZINE 


adjunct  <>[  the  Treasury.  Bui  the  framers  of  the 
Federal  Reserve  A<  t  were  aware  of  the  problem 
n!  executive  responsibility  when  they  originally 
made  two  Treasury  officials  ex  officio  members 
ol  the  Federal  Reserve  Board— an  arrangement 
which  was  undone  by  the  Banking  Act  of  1935. 
It  would  be  a  simple  matter  to  make  the  Secretary 
ol  the  Treasury  once  again  a  member  of  the 
Board,  and  with  him  the  Under  Secretary,  filling 
two  of  the  seven  places.  To  do  any  less  is  to  dele- 
gate great  power  without  requiring  direct  respon- 
sibility to  the  people.  And  we  would  then  find 
that  monetary  and  debt-management  policies 
could  once  again  be  made  consistent,  and  the 
unpleasant  spectacle  of  the  Treasury  and  the 
central  bank  working  at  odds  would  disappear. 

(3)  Unhinge  residential  building  from  mone- 
tary policy. 

Whatever  compromise  is  reached  with  respect 
to  tying  the  Board  of  Governors  to  the  executive 
branch  of  the  government,  it  is  clear  that  one  link 
between  monetary  policy  and  the  economy  must 
be  severed.  Tight  money  had  its  sharpest  impact 
on  the  housing  industry.  During  the  period  of 
rising  interest  rates,  new  house  starts  fell  steadily; 
the  number  of  dwelling  units  built  in  1957  was 
almost  one-third  less  than  the  number  put  up  in 
1955.  Home  building  declined  largely  for  the 
reason  that  VA  and  FHA  loans,  with  their  rigid 
interest  rates,  were  attractive  to  lenders  only  upon 
the  payment  of  discounts  to  increase  yields. 

Anyone  who  has  obtained  an  FHA-insured 
mortgage  within  the  past  three  years  knows  what 
a  discount  is.  It  is  the  number  of  "points"— the 
percentage  of  the  mortgage  note— deducted  from 


the  loan  proceeds  in  order  to  sec  ure  the  financing. 
A  discount  of  5  points  on  a  $15,000  mortgage 
means  an  addition  of  $750  to  the  down  payment, 
enough  to  discourage  many  would-be  buyers. 
Moreover,  the  law  prohibits  the  payment  by 
veteran-borrowers  of  discounts  on  VA  loans. 
Builders  were  thus  forced  to  absorb  this  extra 
cost  or  not  sell  their  existing  inventories.  They 
then  had  to  choose  between  adding  the  extra 
financing  charges  to  the  price  of  new  construction 
or  not  building.  Unfortunately,  many  non- 
luxury  builders  took  the  latter  alternative. 

In  any  case,  discounts,  by  adding  to  the  cost 
of  new  houses,  caused  less  of  them  to  be  taken 
from  the  market  just  when  sales  of  other  goods 
were  booming.  Following  the  recent  drop  in 
interest  rates,  discounts  will  fall,  and  we  shall 
observe  the  paradox  of  improving  residential  con- 
strue tion  in  a  period  of  general  business  decline. 
A  case  could  be  made  for  letting  one  industry 
bear  the  brunt  of  stabilization  policy  if  it  were 
not  for  the  high  social  priority  which  housing 
ought  to  have  right  now  in  the  United  States.  I 
can  only  conclude  that  the  level  of  residential 
building  activity  must  be  unhinged  from  mone- 
tary policy  by  placing  competitive,  flexible  inter- 
est rates  on  federally  underwritten  mortgages. 

(4)  Require  the  Council  of  Economic  Advisers 
to  speak  forthrightly. 

But  problems  like  this  one  cannot  be  resolved 
one  at  a  time.  We  have  in  the  Council  of  Eco- 
nomic Advisers  an  agency  established  to  give 
American  economic  programs  a  measure  of  co- 
herence and  consistency  which,  for  all  our  re- 
sources, seems  ever  to  fall  short  of  the  mark. 


PLATFORM   BEFORE   THE   CASTLE 


ANNE  GOODWIN  WINSLOW 


alas,  poor  ghost,  have  you  come  all  the  way 
From  where  you  are  supposed  to  stay 
To  cry  Adieu,  remember  yon? 

Have  you  forgotten  the  tempo 

Of  living  is  prestissimo? 

Remembering,  on  the  other  hand,  is  slow. 

The  past  is  deep;  it  is  the  place  we  would  prefer  to  keep 
Things  we  should  not  have  done; 
Of  which  you  are  one; 

And  who  can  be  expected  to  remember  you 

When  he  has  got 

So  many  other  things  to  do  that  he  should  not? 


FOUR  STEPS  TO  HALT  THE  SLUMP 


39 


Specifically,  the  Council  in  recent  years  has 
prepared  Economic  Reports  which  tell,  in  ex- 
quisite and  apologetic  detail,  what  has  happened, 
but  there  has  been  little  attention  to  programing 
for  the  near  future.  The  1958  Report  was  espe- 
cially notable  for  its  failure  to  offer  a  realistic 
and  helpful  prognosis.  Yet  the  Employment  Act 
plainly  requires  the  Council  to  set  forth  in  the 
Economic  Report  ".  .  .  foreseeable  trends  in  the 
levels  of  employment,  production,  and  purchas- 
ing power"  and  to  set  the  standard  of  perform- 
ance which  a  full-employment  economy  should 
attain. 

The  trouble  we  are  in  was  widely  anticipated 
by  individual  economists,  in  and  out  of  govern- 
ment, many  months  ago.  It  should  have  been 
foreseen  by  the  Council,  spelled  out  by  the  Presi- 
dent, and  wrestled  with  by  the  Joint  Economic 
Committee  of  Congress  while  there  was  still  time 
to  prevent  the  business  slide.  But  since  the  last 
of  the  Truman  Councils  there  have  been  no  pub- 
lished official  projections  of  business  activity,  and 
unless  we  know  where  we  are  going  we  can't  take 
steps  to  prevent  what  we  don't  like. 

The  Council  of  Economic  Advisers  should  be 
required  by  law  to  publish  semi-annual  technical 
projections  of  economic  performance  for  the  en- 
suing six  months,  together  with  detailed  recom- 
mendations for  bringing  a  slumping  economy 
back  to  normal  activity.  The  projections  would 
sometimes  miss  the  mark,  but  not  often.  Top- 
notch  graduate  students  consistently  have  a  high 
degree  of  accuracy  on  an  exercise  like  this;  the 
Council,  with  its  well-oiled  data-gathering  ma- 
chinery, could  turn  in  a  spectacular  performance. 
To  do  any  less  is  to  subject  decision-makers  in 
government  and  business  to  the  continuing 
tyranny  of  fuzzy  expectations. 

THE    TREND    LINE 

A  WONDERFUL  old  teacher  of  eco- 
nomics at  Kansas  used  to  say  that  there 
are  two  kinds  of  economists— the  sad-philosopher 
type  and  the  merry-moron  type.  Like  a  good 
many  of  John  Ise's  cynicisms,  this  one  has  turned 
out  to  be  as  useful  in  the  booming  'fifties  as  it 
was  in  the  gloomy  'thirties. 

For  whether  we  like  it  or  not,  the  men  who 
do  most  of  the  thinking  for  Americans  on  eco- 
nomic subjects  divide  into  two  camps.  The  sad 
philosophers,  somewhat  in  the  minority,  are  a 
cheerless  lot,  who  fear  above  all  the  bogy  of 
inflation,  preferring  some  unemployment  and  a 
good  bit  of  character  building  to  an  economy 
that  runs  full  tilt  all  the  time.  The  merry  morons, 


who  don't  worry  about  inflation,  insist  that  it's 
wicked  not  to  push  output  to  the  limit  and  urge 
a  hyperactive  economy  in  a  mature  welfare  state. 

Between  these  divergent  philosophies  there  is 
a  middle  ground.  Public  policy  must  find  it  or 
incur  some  excessively  high  social  costs. 

Those  who  fret  unduly  about  the  evils  of  an 
unbalanced  budget  and  inflation  should  recall 
the  massive  deficits  of  World  War  II  and  take 
comfort.  They  cured  a  depression  which  had 
lasted  eleven  years  and  sent  the  economy  on  to 
brilliant  production  records.  Despite  three 
rounds  of  inflation,  real  disposable  income— i.e., 
income  after  taxes  and  in  dollars  of  constant  pur- 
chasing power— has  more  than  doubled  since 
1939;  on  a  per  capita  basis  it  has  increased  by 
about  70  per  cent  over  the  same  period.  More- 
over, since  the  war  the  national  debt  has  re- 
mained constant  while  the  tax  base  from  which 
it  is  serviced  has  grown  steadily,  and  years  of 
Treasury  surplus  have  just  about  equaled  years 
of  Treasury  deficit. 

Those  who  would  run  the  economy  under 
forced  draft,  who  would  have  the  trend  line  of 
growth  cut  through  the  very  peaks  of  past  per- 
formance, must  be  reminded  that  the  quantity 
of  resources  and  their  productivity  increase  by 
modest  amounts  each  year.  Historically,  the  prob- 
lem of  inflation  has  been  solved  by  allowing  up- 
ward swings  in  prices  to  be  followed  by  down- 
ward swings.  If  we  decide  to  eliminate  deflation 
and  its  accompanying  hardship,  we  must  try  also 
to  contain  inflation  and  the  harm  it  does  to  the 
minority  of  institutions  and  people  whose  in- 
comes fall  in  real  terms  as  prices  rise. 

The  inescapable  fact  remains  that  the  current 
recession  involves  a  great  loss,  one  which  the 
country  can  ill  afford  at  a  time  when  our  very 
existence  requires  a  clever  and  imaginative  use 
of  our  productive  machinery.  A  grave  danger  of 
the  moment  is  that  the  economy  will  not  quickly 
return  to  full  employment.  Early  1958  is  no  time 
to  restrict  necessary  defense  expenditures  on 
grounds  of  "economy,"  or  to  present  potty  little 
plans  for  aid  to  education,  or  to  reduce  foreign- 
assistance  programs  to  ineffectiveness.  There  is 
a  positive  need  for  these  income-generating  ex- 
penditures. 

Nor  will  there  be  a  better  time  to  begin  work 
on  the  long-run  problem  of  keeping  production 
steadily  on  the  postwar  trend  line  of  economic 
growth.  A  solution  will  not  be  easy,  but  it  won't 
be  much  tougher  than  launching  a  manned 
satellite— and  it  obviously  is  far  more  important 
to  all  of  us  who  expect  to  keep  on  living  here, 
rather  than  on  the  moon. 


By  MARION  K.  SANDERS 

Drawings  by  Vic  Volk 


Country  Doctors  Catch  Up 


By  teaming  together  in  rural  clinics, 

a  few  of  them  are  demonstrating  how  to  hring 

top-quality  medical  service  to  country 

patients — and  how  to  stop  the  best  physicians 

from  drifting  toward  the  big  cities. 

TH  E  most  comforting  bedside  presence  I 
have  known  was  a  country  doctor  who 
practiced,  as  had  his  father  and  grandfather,  in 
upstate  New  York.  During  our  summer  vaca- 
tions in  the  north  woods  our  children  had  a  per- 
verse habit  of  running  fevers  or  falling  out  of 
trees  the  day  after  my  husband,  who  is  also  a 
physician,  had  left  for  the  city.  Then  my  anxious 
phone  calls  would  bring  Bob  Reynolds  from  his 
home  ninety  miles  away  to  soothe  and  to  suture. 

Once  each  winter  he  turned  up  in  New  York, 
usually  during  an  Academy  of  Medicine  scientific 
powwow.  Like  a  music-starved  opera  lover  on  a 
spree  at  the  Met,  he  took  his  pleasure  at  X-ray 
exhibits,  pathology  demonstrations,  and  lectures. 
Afterward  he  and  my  husband  who  had  been 
medical  students  together  would  talk  far  into 
the  night.  Their  pet  topic  was  the  riddle  of  the 
commonplace,  the  ordinary,  persistent  ache  of 
the  head,  back,  or  gut  which  might— or  might 
not— yield  to  aspirin,  surgery,  or  psychotherapy. 

Eavesdropping  on  those  conversations  gave  me 
a  glimpse  of  a  vast  new  medical  arsenal— the 
assorted  "scopes"  used  to  peer  into  remote  body 
cavities;  the  laboratory  techniques  of  serology, 
hematology,  bacteriology,  and  parasitology;  the 
alliance  of  chemistry  with  X-ray  to  reveal  the 


functioning  as  well  as  the  shape  of  ailing  organs; 
the  hundreds  of  increasingly  precise  weapons 
against  once-hopeless  maladies. 

When  we  paid  a  return  visit  to  Bob's  home 
town,  he  showed  us  through  the  new  county 
hospital.  Although  it  gleamed  with  asepsis,  it 
lacked  all  but  a  handful  of  the  equipment  com- 
monplace in  city  institutions.  As  in  most  rural 
areas,  this  was  an  "open"  hospital,  used  by  vir- 
tually all  local  doctors,  few  of  whom  were  spe- 
cialists. A  "closed"  hospital,  by  contrast,  is  re- 
stricted to  a  staff  carefully  chosen  to  represent 
various  skills— surgeons,  pathologists,  internists, 
anesthesiologists,  X-ray   technicians,  and  so  on. 

Bob  loved  medicine  and  outdoor  living.  He 
loathed  fakers,  bigots,  and  busybodies.  In  the 
last  category  he  lumped  the  proponents  of  most 
welfare  and  health-insurance  plans.  Nothing 
riled  him  more  than  filling  out  forms  in  tripli- 
cate, unsolicited  advice  about  his  patients,  or 
bureaucratic  intrusions  on  his  rare  free  after- 
noons when  he  chose  to  go  hunting  with  his  sons. 
These  impromptu  outings  were  compensations 
for  the  built-in  limitations  of  his  scientific  life— 
of  which  he  was  well  aware. 

There  was,  for  example,  the  August  day  when 
my  husband  was  away  and  our  small  son  was 
laid  low  with  pains  obviously  more  grim  than 
croup  or  colic. 

"This  is  a  queer  one,"  Bob  said,  encompassing 
child  and  thermometer  in  one  practiced  glance. 
"It  looks  like  typhoid,  but  it  isn't.  We  need 
some  good  blood  work  and  an  intestinal  X-ray 
series." 

He  headed  for  the  phone  downstairs.  I  heard 
only  an  enigmatic  mumble,  bristling  with  trans- 


COUNTRY  DOCTORS  CATCH  UP 


41 


fusions,    heterophiles,    and    perforations.     Back 
in  the  sick  room  he  was  calm  and  definite. 

"Bundle  the  boy  in  the  car  and  keep  going 
till  you  hit  New  York,"  he  said,  staring  out  of  the 
window  at  the  sparkling  lake.  "Pretty,  isn't 
it?  Quaint,  too.  But  at  a  time  like  this  you're 
better  off  in  the  twentieth  century." 

"help   wanted" 

THE  time  lag  between  city  and  country 
medicine  is  brutally  clear  when  a  capable 
and  self-reliant  doctor  sends  you  on  a  three- 
hundred-mile  trek  for  a  diagnostic  job.  This  is 
an  honest— but  often  risky— solution  to  the  frus- 
trating problem  of  the  isolated  practitioner  who 
lacks  the  skills  and  remedies  his  best  judgment 
demands.  But  all  too  often  he  is  forced  to  make 
do  with  the  tools  at  hand,  inadequate  though 
they  are.  To  a  man  of  scientific  habits  this  re- 
curring dilemma  is  a  major  reason  for  not  prac- 
ticing in  the  backwoods. 

A  medical  flight  from  the  land  has  been 
the  result.  For  example,  in  twenty  Missouri 
counties  which  boasted  539  doctors  in  1912,  only 
158  remained  in  1950.  As  compared  to  one  in 
fourteen  at  the  earlier  date,  a  third  of  those  left 
were  over  sixty-five  years  old  and  their  patient- 
load  was  double  their  predecessors'  since  the 
population  had  declined  only  slightly.  In  Illi- 
nois, Alabama,  West  Virginia,  Mississippi, 
Georgia,  Kentucky,  and  other  states,  medical 
societies  and  worried  citizens  have  set  up  scholar- 
ship funds  for  potential  country  doctors.  To 
help  furnish  such  doctors'  offices,  the  Sears  Roe- 
buck Foundation  and  the  Mead  Johnson  Com- 
pany offer  unsecured  loans.  In  upstate  New 
York,  which  has  been  traditionally  well-stocked 
with  physicians,  the  State  Medical  Society  last 
May  certified  sixty  communities  as  "medically 
needy"  because  they  were  without  a  general 
practitioner. 


These  are  not  rural  slums.  Neither  are  the 
dozens  of  other  towns  and  villages  throughout 
the  country  which  advertise  week  after  week  in 
the  "help  wanted"  columns  of  medical  journals. 
Practices  grossing  as  much  as  $40,000  a  year  are 
going  begging.  So  are  others  nearly  as  lucrative 
which  offer  the  added  bait  of  free  office  rent  and 
fine  fishing.  Missing  from  these  otherwise  attrac- 
tive packages  is  the  vital  component  of  modern 
medical  care— ready  access  to  the  specialized 
knowledge  and  techniques  which  far  exceed  the 
capacity  of  one  mind. 

One  of  the  most  promising  answers  to  this 
predicament  is  team  medicine.  Although  it  is 
hard  to  find  takers  for  old  doc's  lonely  practice, 
there  are  few  vacancies  in  the  medical  groups 
which  are  beginning  to  dot  the  hinterland. 
These  differ  in  one  important  respect  from  such 
large-scale  enterprises  as  the  Kaiser-Permanente 
Plan  on  the  West  Coast,  the  Health  Insurance 
Plan  of  Greater  New  York  (generally  known  as 
HIP),  and  most  union-sponsored  groups.  These 
are  financed  through  pre-payment  for  medical 
care  by  subscribers  and  their  employers.  In  con- 
trast, most  of  the  rural  teams  are  in  private 
practice  and  charge  for  their  services  as  any 
individual  practitioner  does.  By  pooling  their 
income  and  talents,  three  or  more  partners 
trained  in  different  specialties  can  afford 
the  equipment  essential  to  modern  medical 
care.  The  U.S.  Public  Health  Service  estimated 
in  1951  that  there  were  700  medical  groups  of 
all  sizes  and  varieties  in  the  country.  Allowing 
for  some  fatalities,  there  are  probably  close  to 
1,000  today,  most  of  them  west  of  the  Mississippi 
where  the  Mayos  popularized  private  group  prac- 
tice fifty  years  ago  and  where  the  need  has  been 
dramatized  by  the  dearth  of  hospitals  in  thinly 
settled  regions. 

Many  physicians  hold  back  from  joining  a 
group  because  they  still  tend  to  regard  their 
paying  patients  as  personal  property.    But  this 


1      &S 


42 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


attitude  is,  in  fact,  an  anachronism,  for  in  his 
hospital  work  every  doctor  today  must  forswear 
his  free-wheeling  ways  if  he  craves  scientific 
recognition.  Surgeons  bow  meekly  to  the  tissue 
committee  which  checks  on  the  removal  of 
normal  organs  (hallmark  of  venal  or  inept  sur- 
gery). There  is  a  like  policing  of  Caesarian 
births  (and  the  high  fees  they  command).  The 
patient  is  no  man's  private  preserve,  for  case 
records  are  kept  in  unit  files  subject  to  the 
official  review  of  other  professional  eyes.  The 
canniest  diagnostician  acknowledges  his  de- 
pendence on  the  laboratory  and  X-ray  depart- 
ments, and  his  mistakes— like  all  others— art- 
bared  at  clinical  conferences. 

The  American  College  of  Surgeons  insists 
upon  such  team  work  in  all  hospitals  certified 
for  resident  and  intern  training.  It  requires  also 
that  each  department  be  headed  by  a  qualified 
specialist  and  that  each  doctor  stick  to  his  own 
field.  Group  medicine  consists,  in  effect,  in 
adapting  these  habits  to  private  practice.  With 
the  internist  acting  as  his  personal  physician,  the 
private  patient  gains  the  co-ordinated  services 
of  whatever  specialists  may  be  needed  plus  the 
advantage  of  getting  all  his  medical  work  done 
in  one  place.  This  pattern  is  most  easily  estab- 
lished by  specialists  who  are  already  on  the 
staff  of  a  first-rate  "closed"  hospital.  But  since 
there  are  few  such  institutions  outside  of  cities, 
it  is  rarely  possible  in  the  country-side— unless 
the  doctors  themselves  team  up.  This  an  increas- 
ing number  of  them  are  doing,  in  a  variety  of 
ways  and  with  a  variety  of  aims. 

CLINIC     IN     THE     CLOUDS 

TH  E  Hitchcock  Clinic  in  Hanover,  New 
Hampshire,  is  one  of  the  largest  and  best 
equipped  rural  groups  in  the  East.  With  the 
White  Mountains  as  a  backdrop  it  is  ideally 
placed,  scientifically  as  well  as  scenically.  To 
reach  it,  however,  you  must  choose  between  a 
rough  ride  on  weatherbeaten  New  England 
roads,  the  creaking  cars  of  the  Boston  and  Maine 
railroad,  or  once-a-day  (weather  permitting) 
plane  service.  This  is  rural  medicine  with  a 
vengeance.  It  is  also  medicine  that  could  be 
matched  in  quality  only  in  a  large  center. 

The  Hitchcock  Clinic  is,  in  fact,  such  a  center 
for  a  region  stretching  from  Boston  to  Montreal; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  the  family  physician  for 
some  6,000  people— all  the  doctors  in  Hanover 
and  in  Norwich,  Vermont,  across  the  river,  be- 
long to  the  group.  The  present  staff  is  a  roster 
of  twenty-two  medical  specialties,  including  such 


refined  subdivisions  as  cardio-pulmonary  sur- 
gery, broncho-csophagology,  and  plastic  surgery. 
The  largest  department,  numbering  twelve,  is 
internal  medicine,  the  co-ordinating  hub  of  the 
specialties  and  the  modern  equivalent  of  the 
family  doctor. 

Hitchcock's  work  totals  more  than  60,000 
patient  visits  a  year,  90  per  cent  of  the  cases 
being  referred  by  doctors  in  the  outlying  area 
for  surgery,  diagnosis,  or  special  treatment.  Since 
the  hospital  and  doctors'  offices  are  under  the 
same  roof,  team  work  is  easy  and  frequent. 
Medical  man,  neurologist,  surgeon,  and  X-ray 
specialist,  for  example,  routinely  consult  on 
serious  accident  cases.  The  diabetic  who  breaks 
his  leg  is  tended  by  both  an  internist  and  an 
orthopedist.  The  cardiologist  strolls  down  the 
corridor  to  discuss  the  heart  patient's  emotional 
troubles  with  a  psychiatrist.  Orthopedist  and 
neurologist  collaborate  from  the  onset  of  a  polio 
case  and,  without  moving  the  patient,  turn  him 
over  to  the  rehabilitation  department  when  the 
acute  stage  is  past.  All  children  are  assigned  to 
pediatricians  who  can  call  in  other  specialists 
when  needed  without  worrying  about  extra  cost 
to  the  family  or  additional  trips  to  the  doctor. 
To  solve  the  diagnostic  puzzles  posed  by  about 
15  per  cent  of  the  ailments  brought  to  the  aver- 
age doctor's  office,  the  latest  laboratory  skills  are 
available.  And  in  the  sum  total  of  high  quality, 
perhaps  the  most  important,  though  least  tangi- 
ble, element  is  the  ferment  of  many  minds,  all 
scientifically  attuned. 

Now  in  its  thirtieth  year,  the  Hitchcock  Clinic 
is  still  headed  by  one  of  its  founders,  Dr.  John  P. 
Bowler.  A  Dartmouth  man  and  a  local  doctor's 
son,  he  served  a  surgical  residency  at  the  Mayo 
Clinic  in  the  1920s  and  came  home  dissatisfied 
with  the  prospect  of  general  country  practice. 
He  had,  however,  a  hunch  that  Hanover  enjoyed 
some  of  the  same  assets  that  had  made  Rochester, 
Minnesota,  a  medical  mecca.    The  thirty-eight- 


COUNTRY  DOCTORS  CATCH  UP 


43 


bed  Mary  Hitchcock  Memorial  Hospital— though 
puny  by  Mayo  standards— had  always  had  a 
highly  trained  staff.  Teaching,  postgraduate 
study,  and  research  could  be  fostered  through 
the  hospital's  existing  link  with  the  Dartmouth 
Medical  School.  And  in  the  surrounding  New 
England  backwoods,  the  newer  medical  arts  were 
virtually  non-existent. 

With  four  older  colleagues,  Dr.  Bowler  set  up 
joint  offices  in  the  hospital.  The  partners  began 
a  search  for  new  recruits  with  an  astute  eye  for 
surgical  talent  in  the  fast-expanding  spectrum 
of  specialties.  In  an  area  where  even  qualified 
general  surgeons  were  scarce,  the  Hitchcock  vir- 
tuosos made  news.  Each  new  specialty,  indeed, 
seemed  to  open  a  pent-up  demand. 

Today  the  Hitchcock  Hospital  and  Clinic- 
separate  corporate  entities  with  largely  inter- 
changeable parts— have  evolved  into  a  300-bed 
institution  with  a  medical  staff  of  more  than 
fifty,  about  the  same  number  of  interns  and  resi- 
dents, a  school  of  nursing,  and  training  programs 


in  laboratory  medicine,  X-ray,  and  anesthesiol- 
ogy. All  are  housed,  through  the  largesse  of 
New  England  philanthropists  and  an  assist  from 
federal  Hill-Burton  funds,  in  a  series  of  con- 
nected buildings  facing  the  Dartmouth  campus. 
The  staff  doctors  are  also  consultants  to  a  250- 
bed  Veterans  Hospital  in  nearby  White  River 
Junction.  The  Hitchcock  educational  program- 
open  to  all  doctors  in  the  area— in  a  single  month 
lists  more  than  150  events,  ranging  from  a  semi- 
nar on  the  use  of  ultra-sound  in  medicine  to 
bedside  teaching  sessions  and  clinical  conferences 
in  each  of  the  twenty-two  departments.  Research 
projects  are  supported  by  foundation  funds 
which  also  make  possible  subsidized  staff  travel 
to  scientific  meetings. 

Except  for  Dartmouth  students  who  are  cared 
for  on  a  pre-payment  contract  with  the  college, 
Hitchcock  customers  are  private  patients.  (There 
are  a  few  free  endowed  beds  but  no  "charity 
wards.")    Although  the  patient  pays  the  clinic 


and  not  the  physician,  the  attending  doctor  sets 
the  fee— as  he  would  in  his  own  practice— on  the 
basis  of  what  he  thinks  the  job  is  worth,  the 
going  rate  in  the  area,  and  the  patient's  means. 
Before  they  are  mailed  out  bills  are  reviewed  by 
business  manager  Justin  Smith,  who  has  the 
advice,  when  needed,  of  two  medical  social 
workers.  Much  of  their  time  is  spent,  however, 
helping  self-reliant  farm  and  academic  families 
reduced  with  distressing  frequency  to  "medical 
indigence"  by  long  illness  or  costly  drugs,  despite 
hospital  and  medical  insurance. 

All  net  income  is  pooled  and  divided  among 
the  staff  on  a  scale  graded  only  for  length  of 
service,  without  reference  to  specialty  or  volume 
of  work  done  by  each  individual.  By  thus  elimi- 
nating dollar  competition  between  doctors, 
Hitchcock  has  by-passed  a  major  pitfall  of  group 
practice.  Since  this  is  a  relatively  poor,  low-fee 
area,  and  because  a  large  slice  of  staff  time  goes 
into  unremunerative  teaching  and  research,  earn- 
ings are  modest.  Many  of  the  more  experienced 
men  could  double  their  incomes  by  opening 
offices  in  Boston  or  New  York. 

"It's  the  academic  life  all  over  again,"  said  a 
surgeon's  wife  whose  father  was  a  professor,  as 
I  cast  an  admiring  eye  around  her  spacious 
living-room.  "We  built  this  house  twenty  years 
ago.    The  salary  won't  buy  this  today." 

But  there  was  no  real  regret  in  her  tone.  It 
is  precisely  because  of  its  academic  aura  that  the 
Hitchcock  Clinic  has  succeeded  so  well.  A  post 
at  a  first-rate  teaching  hospital  is  a  prize  not 
measured  in  dollars.  Recruitment  for  this  group 
has  been  easy,  turnover  virtually  nil. 

Most  rural  groups  are  less  fortunately  placed. 
They  must  shift  for  themselves  to  buy  costly 
equipment  and  to  create  the  scholarly  climate 
which  will  lure  first-rate  men  from  the  cities. 
Since  they  are  straying  from  established  medical 
paths,  they  are  forced  to  proceed  by  trial  and 
error.  Private  group  practice— small-town  style- 
is  largely  uncharted  terrain,  but  it  is  fast  develop- 
ing despite  sometimes  bitter  opposition  from 
county  medical  societies. 

HIPPOCRATIC     PICKET     LINE 

SKIRMISHES  between  local  medical 
societies  and  groups  have  been  part  of  the 
history  of  group  medicine,  but  ugliest  when  the 
groups  were  paired  with  health-insurance  plans. 
The  staff  of  the  Ross-Loos  Clinic,  for  instance, 
which  offered  prepaid  medical  care,  was  ex- 
pelled en  masse  in  1939  from  the  Los  Angeles 
County    Medical   Society.    Earlier   Dr.    Michael 


44 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


Shadid  came  close  to  losing  his  license  to  prac- 
tice when  he  formed  the  nation's  first  medical 
co-operative  in  Elk  City,  Oklahoma.  It  took  a 
Supreme  Court  decision  to  rescue  the  physicians 
of  the  Washington,  D.  C,  Group  Health  Co- 
operative who  were  hooted  out  of  their  hospital 
posts  in  1937.  And,  at  its  inception  ten  years 
ago,  the  Central  Medical  Group  of  Brooklyn  was 
denied  heat  and  power  on  the  grounds  that  it 
was  an  illegal  enterprise  like  hook-making  or 
a  bawdy  house. 

Theoretically  private-practice  groups  conform 
tidily  to  medical  ethics  and  custom,  since  most 
are  run  entirely  by  doctors  and  charge  the  pre- 
vailing rates.  But  there  is  an  implicit  threat  in 
the  very  existence  of  collections  of  specialists 
whose  methods  challenge  the  still  popular  con- 
cept of  "general  medicine."  Every  doctor's 
license— conferred  in  some  states  on  medical- 
school  graduates  after  a  one-year  internship,  in 
some  without  any— entitles  him,  if  he  chooses, 
to  engage  in  any  and  all  medical  and  surgical 
arts.  In  practice,  moral  compunctions  and  the 
humane  impulse  which  attracts  most  men  to 
medicine  in  the  first  place  stay  all  but  a  few  of 
the  untrained  hands.  However  the  outlawed  but 
still  prevalent  ruse  of  "ghost  surgery"  (in  which 
a  skilled  surgeon  replaces  the  general  practi- 
tioner after  the  patient  is  unconscious)  helps  per- 
petuate the  myth  of  every  doctor's  total  com- 
petence. And  widespread  ignorance  as  to  just 
what  constitutes  a  specialist  also  contributes  to 
the  notion  that  any  M.D.  is  as  good  as  any  other 
in  treating  any  human  ill. 

Contrary  to  popular  belief,  'a  specialist  is  not 
the  aging  family  doctor  who,  as  his  hair  grays, 
calls  himself  a  "diagnostician"  (though  he  may 
be  an  excellent  one).  Nor  is  he  the  general 
practitioner  who  does  most  of  the  surgery  in 
town.  Specialization  takes  anywhere  from  three 
to  eight  or  more  years  of  postgraduate  training 
in  a  hospital  residency.  Most— though  not  all- 
qualified  specialists  have  been  certified  by  the 
American  Boards  which  conduct  rigorous  tests 
in  twenty-four  recognized  branches. 

Since  a  majority  of  their  dues-paying  members 
lack  this  kind  of  training,  most  local  medical 
societies  resent  these  facts.  Their  parent  body, 
the  AMA,  dedicated  to  the  advancement  of 
science  as  well  as  doctors'  incomes,  does  not  deny 
the  fact  of  specialization  and  no  longer  frowns 
officially  on  private-practice  groups  which  Dr. 
Morris  Fishbein,  former  editor  of  the  AMA 
Journal,  once  called  "medical  Soviets."  It  is  not, 
however,  enthusiastic  about  the  trend  toward 
team  medicine.    A  scholarly  attempt  to  fathom 


its  policies  on  this  subject  was  made  in  1954  by 
the  Yale  Law  Journal  which  concluded  that: 

"The  AMA  has  mildly  discouraged  combined 
practice  by  repeatedly  denying  the  necessity  for 
or  success  of  such  groups.  Its  studies  have 
emphasized  the  negative  aspects  of  group  prac- 
tice." 

A  somewhat  more  relaxed  tone  crept  into  the 
AMA's  latest  report  on  103  groups  it  studied  in 
the  past  year.  Noting  that  the  increase  in  group 
practice  since  World  War  II  has  been  "phe- 
nomenal," the  report  acknowledged  that  the 
motivation  has  been  chiefly  the  doctors'  belief 
that  they  "could  provide  better  medical  care 
than  when  practicing  individually." 

More  of  the  same  may  be  expected  from  the 
AMA's  new  president-elect,  Dr.  Gunnar  Gunder- 
son,  who,  with  three  brothers,  operates  a  highly 
respected  clinic  in  LaCrosse,  Wisconsin.  (Another 
Gunderson  brother,  Dr.  Sven,  is  Senior  Internist 
at  Hitchcock.)  But  to  the  surprise  of  some  ob- 
servers, the  same  AMA  conclave  that  elected 
Dr.  Gunderson  reaffirmed  its  historic  opposition 
to  the  "corporate  practice  of  medicine"  which 
is,  it  said,  "indistinguishable  in  effect  from  the 
socialization  of  medicine  and  appears  to  embody 
all  of  its  evils." 

When  the  AMA  cries  "socialized  medicine"  few 
doctors  venture  across  its  picket  line.  However, 
in  the  matter  of  group  practice,  the  New  York 
Times  noted  in  its  account  of  the  meeting,  they 
are  becoming  "more  and  more  defiant."  The 
plain  fact  is,  they  like  it. 

MOST     HAPPY     DOCTORS 

THE  main  difficulties  with  group  practice 
today,  it  would  seem,  are  not  from  the 
doctors',  but  the  patients'  point  of  view.  I  talked 
recently  with  a  man  who  was  brilliantly  diag- 
nosed but  spiritually  shaken  at  a  large  Mid- 
western clinic. 

"You  undress  in  a  cubicle  like  a  Coney  Island 
bathhouse,"  he  said,  describing  his  ordeal  by 
X-ray.  "Then  you  wait  your  turn  with  a  brass 
check  in  your  hand.  At  ten  in  the  morning  1  was 
number  416!  It  was  scientific  all  right,  but  it 
wasn't  chummy." 

Group  doctors,  like  many  specialists,  some- 
times work  on  the  theory  that  the  only  walk  a 
patient  cannot  make  on  his  own  legs  is  the  one 
to  his  coffin,  and  that  anyone  who  is  not  in  the 
hospital  can  come  to  the  office.  But  the  sick  do 
not  always  feel  ambulatory.  Thus  a  West  Coast  i 
group  which  sub-contracted  house  calls  to  pri-  | 
vate   practitioners    lost   a    batch   of  clients   per- 


I 


COUNTRY  DOCTORS  CATCH  UP 


45 


manently.  Similarly,  when  offered  a  choice  of 
group  or  individual  doctors,  subscribers  to  one 
large  health-insurance  plan  usually  choose  the 
old-fashioned  practitioner  who  will,  they  believe, 
be  more  likely  to  show  up  at  the  house  in  the 
hour  of  need. 

Such  flaws,  particularly  in  insurance-supported 
teams,  have  cooled  the  enthusiasm  of  some  of  the 
reformers  who  were  crusading  for  pre-payment 
group  practice  twenty  years  ago.  They  are  dis- 
appointed, too,  to  find  that  preventive 
medicine  is  not  necessarily  fostered  when 
the  doctor  is  paid  by  the  head  rather  than 
by  the  visit  and  thus  is  said  to  have  a 
stake  in  "keeping  the  patient  healthy." 

"Instead  he  seems  to  have  a  stake  in 
keeping  the  patient  out  of  his  office,  which 
is  a  very  different  matter,"  said  Winslow 
Carlton,  a  veteran  in  the  field  who  is  now 
chairman  of  Group  Health  Insurance  in 
New  York. 

Despite  its  imperfections,  he  agrees, 
however,  that  group  practice  is  the  best 
available  device  for  enticing  capable 
young  doctors  to  the  sticks.  Today's  medi- 
cal-school graduates  are  a  new  breed. 
Three  quarters  of  them  are  specializing, 
and,  after  long  residencies,  they  head  like 
homing  pigeons  toward  full-time  hospital, 
teaching,  or  research  posts.  Typical  of 
this  current  crop  is  a  young  internist  of 
my  acquaintance  whose  scientific  bent  was 
sharpened  by  his  hospital  years  and  a  mili- 
tary tour  spent  chiefly  in  esoteric  experi- 
ments with  an  artificial  kidney.  Back  in 
civilian  life  he  was  tempted  by  a  teaching- 
research  offer  from  his  university.  He  also 
weighed  a  bid  from  a  union  health  center 
and  a  chance  to  build  a  $30,000-a-year 
private  practice  in  the  city.  Finally,  he 
joined  a  rural  group  at  a  starting  salary 
of  $7,500  with  the  top  prospect  of  $20,000 
when  and  if  he  became  a  partner. 

"Private  practice  would  have  meant  doing 
general  work  for  years  until  I  looked  old  enough 
to  be  considered  a  specialist,"  he  explained. 
"Here  I  can  stick  to  my  last.  I'm  learning  every 
day  from  topflight  men  and  practicing  what  I 
consider  first-rate  medicine.  I'm  bringing  up 
my  family  on  sod  instead  of  asphalt.  I  earn  all 
we  need,  and  I  don't  have  to  talk  money  with 
my  patients  to  do  it." 

Veteran  practitioners  as  well  as  neophytes  are 
grateful  to  the  group  business  managers  who 
relieve  them  of  what  Ernest  Dichter  has  called 


the  basic  dilemma  of  the  doctor's  role— "the  con- 
flict between  the  picture  which  he  has  of  himself 
as  the  idealist  and  benefactor  and  his  down-to- 
earth  interest  as  a  breadwinner."  Equally  wel- 
come is  the  escape  which  team  medicine  offers 
from  the  60-to-80-hour  working  week  of  the 
average  busy  practitioner. 

"We  believe  there  is  a  definite  limit  to  how 
hard  a  doctor  should  work,"  said  the  senior  mem- 


ber of  one  group,  recalling  his  own  twenty  har- 
assed years  in  private  practice.  "I'm  still  plenty 
busy.  But  when  I'm  off  duty,  I'm  really  off. 
And  when  I  go  on  vacation  my  income  doesn't 
stop,  and  I  know  my  practice  isn't  being  raided 
or  neglected." 

Such  earthy  logic  would,  I  think,  have  won  a 
respectful  hearing  even  from  so  lone  a  wolf  as 
my  old  friend  and  favorite  country  doctor,  Bob 
Reynolds.  Indeed,  if  he  were  alive  today  he 
might— perhaps  for  the  fun  of  jolting  his  county 
society— be  organizing  a  group  himself. 


Warren  Unna 


CIA: 

Who  Watches  the  Watchman? 


Today  the  answer  is:  "Nobody"  .  .  .  but  Congress 

may  find  a  way  to  keep  an  eye  on  our 

cloak-and-dagger  operators  without  tearing; 

a  hole  in  their  essential  cloak  of  secrecy. 

TH  E  Central  Intelligence  Agency— the  peace- 
time successor  to  World  War  lis  Office  of 
Strategic  Services,  for  espionage,  counter-intelli- 
gence, and  "cold  war"  operations— celebrated  its 
tenth  birthday  last  fall  still  remaining  the  only 
major  U.S.  government  agency  entirely  free  of 
Congressional  scrutiny.  Its  director,  Allen  Welsh 
Dulles,  believes  it  can  remain  effective  only  so 
long  as  it  enjoys  absolute  security  from  Con- 
gressional as  well  as  public  probing,  and  thus 
far  he  has  been  able  to  convince  the  Congress 
that  he  is  right. 

"In  intelligence  you  have  to  take  certain 
things  on  faith,"  he  declared  a  few  years  ago. 
"You  have  to  look  to  the  man  who  is  directing 
the  organization  and  the  results  he  achieves. 
If  you  haven't  someone  who  can  be  trusted,  or 
who  gets  results,  you'd  better  throw  him  out 
and  get  somebody  else." 

In  the  first  part  of  his  statement,  Dulles 
was  on  sure  ground.  At  sixty-four  he  is  one 
of  the  least  criticized  and  most  admired  men— 
both  personally  and  professionally— in  Washing- 
ton. He  is  also,  in  the  best  and  truest  sense, 
a  professional  spy  who  has  devoted  almost  as 
much  time  to  gathering  intelligence  for  his 
country  as  to  the  profession  for  which  he  was 
trained:  law.  Proof  of  his  success  as  chief  of 
ope/ations  in  Switzerland  for  the  OSS  in  World 
War  II  was  the  citation  given  him  after  the  war 
by  President  Truman  for,  among  other  things, 
establishing  contact  with  the  German  Army  in 
Northern  Italy  and  arranging  its  surrender. 


The  difficulty  lies  in^the  second  part  of  the 
statement— the  matter  of  results.  In  an  organ- 
ization like  CIA  no  one  on  the  outside  really 
knows  what  results  it  gets.  Even  if  the  few 
bits  of  news  about  its  purported  successes  and 
failures  that  trickle  out  from  time  to  time  are 
true,  they  represent  only  the  minute  visible 
surface  of  the  vast  iceberg  underneath.  They 
can  hardly  be  indicative  of  CIA's  huge  day-to-day 
operation. 

For  this  reason,  Senator  Mike  Mansfield  of 
Montana  has,  on  three  occasions,  introduced 
bills  calling  for  a  joint  Congressional  "watch- 
dog" committee  over  CIA.  The  last  of  these 
was  decisively  defeated  in  April  1956— while 
Mansfield  was  still  in  his  freshman  term— for 
a  variety  of  reasons,  not  all  of  them  entirely 
pertinent. 

It  was  not  a  matter  of  Republicans  vs.  Demo- 
crats, but  of  all  the  professionals  being  on  one 
side.  Says  Mansfield  in  retrospect,  "What  you 
had  was  a  brash  freshman  going  up  against 
the  high  brass.  I  got  a  good  education."  He 
did  not  reintroduce  his  bill  in  1957,  and  he 
won't  this  year— unless  he  is  pretty  sure  he  has 
the  Senate  "club"  with  him. 

Meanwhile,  for  good  or  bad,  CIA  goes  its  way 
responsible  only  to  the  executive  branch,  through 
the  National  Security  Council,  its  parent,  and 
the  Bureau  of  the  Budget,  its  accountant.  And 
only  the  executive  branch  can  truly  evaluate 
its  performance. 

Director  Dulles  contends  that  the  Congress 
can  question  anything  it  desires  through  the 
five-man  subcommittees  of  the  Senate  and  House 
Appropriations  Committees.  But  when  he  as- 
cends Capitol  Hill  once  or  twice  a  year  to 
appear  before  these  usually  avid  investigators, 
his  discussion  of  CIA's  budget  (which  is 
secret  but  currently  estimated  at  anything  from 
$100    million    to    $1     billion    annually),    man- 


CIA:  WHO  WATCHES  THE  WATCHMAN? 


47 


power  (estimated  at  anywhere  from  3,000  to 
30,000),  and  policy  is  pretty  much  brushed  aside 
by  such  reverently  put  questions  as,  "The  Com- 
mies still  giving  us  a  rough  time,  Allen?"  What- 
ever paper  work  is  presented  is  carefully  gathered 
up  as  the  legislators  adjourn.  Congressional 
homework  is  apparently  neither  desired  nor 
possible. 

Senator  Leverett  Saltonstall  of  Massachusetts,  a 
member  of  one  of  these  quintets,  made  his  atti- 
tude plain  on  the  Senate  floor  in  April  1956 
when,  in  opposing  the  Mansfield  bill,  he  said: 
"The  difficulty  in  connection  with  asking  ques- 
tions and  obtaining  information  is  that  we 
might  obtain  information  which  I  personally 
would  rather  not  have.  .  .  ." 

His  words  were  echoed  by  Senators  Richard 
Russell  of  Georgia  and  Carl  Hayden  of  Arizona, 
who  also  are  members  of  the  Appropriations 
Committee  quintet. 

One  of  the  Senate's  leading  liberals,  speaking 
off  the  record,  explained  his  own  opposition  by 
stating  bluntly  that  he  didn't  think  his  col- 
leagues could  be  trusted  with  such  secrets— a 
point  of  view  not  too  far  from  the  President's, 
as  described  by  Senator  Styles  Bridges  of  New 
Hampshire  in  an  interview: 

"He  said  it  was  too  dangerous  for  Congress 
to  take  up." 

In  acting  as  its  own  watchdog,  not  only  in 
[its  use  of  manpower  and  public  funds  but  in 
seeing  to  it  that  its  foreign  operations  neither 
contradict  nor  negate  the  foreign  policy  of  the 
United  States,  CIA  is  in  a  unique  position.  Its 
British  counterpart  is  directly  answerable  to 
Cabinet  officers,  who  in  turn  are  answerable  to 
Parliament. 

Since  CIA  Director  Allen  Welsh  Dulles  is  the 
only  brother  of  Secretary  of  State  John  Foster 
Dulles,  it  might  be  argued  that  any  disagree- 
ments on  policy  that  arise  can  be  ironed  out 
within  the  family.  But  the  Dulles  brothers  will 
not  always  be  behind  the  counter,  and  those  who 
think  CIA  needs  a  closer  watch  wonder  if  in 
'any  case  this  is  the  way  to  run  the  store. 

WHO     GETS     THE     SECRETS? 

SENATOR  Mansfield  has  made  clear  that 
his  desire  for  a  watchdog  committee  is  not 
to  make  an  embarrassing  expose  of  CIA  per- 
sonnel, but  to  get  a  check  and  balance  on  the 
organization  in  view  of  certain  questions  which 
have  arisen  out  of  CIA's  activities.  There  is,  for 
example,  the  question  of  a  lack  of  co-ordination, 
ind  perhaps  the  presence  of  competition,  between 


CIA,    the    intelligence    branches    of    the    Army, 
Navy,  and  Air  Force,  and  the  FBI. 

In  a  sense,  CIA  is  fighting  history  in  trying 
to  become  an  over-all  agency  that  digests  the 
traditional  interservice  rivalry  of  Army,  Navy, 
and  Air  Force  intelligence.  It  is  also  fighting 
the  old  American  tradition  against  peacetime 
spying,  epitomized  by  the  late  Henry  L.  Stimson 
when  he  was  Secretary  of  State  for  President 
Hoover.  Stimson  abolished  the  "Black  Room," 
a  small,  secret  section  of  his  department  which 
broke  foreign  codes,  with  the  crisp  and  famous 
comment: 

"Gentlemen  do  not  read  other  people's  mail." 

But  at  the  end  of  World  War  II,  with  Pearl 
Harbor  still  fresh  in  the  memory,  the  country's 
leaders  decided  that  tradition  must  be  modified 
to  suit  the  times. 

Accordingly,  CIA  was  established  by  the  Na- 
tional Security  Act  of  1947.  This  provided  that 
a  National  Security  Council— headed  by  the 
President  and  including  the  Vice  President,  the 
Secretaries  of  State  and  Defense,  and  what  has 
now  become  the  Director  of  the  Office  of  De- 
fense Mobilization— should  appraise  and  set  over- 
all strategic  policy  with  the  advice  of  the 
Director  of  CIA. 

Dulles  is  the  third  director  CIA  has  had  and 
the  first  civilian.  He  was  preceded  by  Rear 
Admiral  Roscoe  H.  Hillenkoetter— who  stayed 
in  office  three  years  before  he  was  reassigned, 
at  his  own  wish,  to  the  Navy— and  General 
Walter  Bedell  Smith— General  Eisenhower's  able 
chief  of  staff  in  Europe,  who  went  on  to  be- 
come Under  Secretary  of  State  and  who  dif- 
fers, according  to  Senator  Mansfield,  from  Dulles 
in  being  very  much  in  favor  of  a  watchdog 
committee. 

Although  Dulles  has  apparently  been  success- 
ful in  weeding  out  many  of  the  retired  officers 
who  latched  onto  soft  berths  at  CIA  stations  in 
Europe  during  the  agency's  first  years,  the  mili- 
tary still  heads  most  of  CIA's  secondary  posts, 
and  there  are  hundreds  of  military  officers 
throughout  the  organization.  One  of  the 
agency's  biggest  administrative  headaches  is  the 
continuing  tendency  of  the  various  military 
intelligence  branches  to  operate  individually, 
ignoring  each  other's  efforts  and,  particularly, 
CIA's. 

This  unhappy  state  of  affairs  was  underlined 
last  November  by  Senate  Majority  Leader  Lyn- 
don Johnson  of  Texas  as  he  emerged  from  a 
closed-door  briefing  with  Allen  Dulles  on  the 
nation's  missile  program  and  grimly  announced 
that  it  was   "desirable  in  the  national  interest 


48 


HARPERS     MAGAZINE 


to  take  a  good  look  at  certain  procedures,  at 
the  co-ordination  between  the  CIA  and  the 
Services  and  the  Congress." 

Dulles  is  exceedingly  reluctant  to  admit  that 
all  is  not  harmony.  He  regards  his  Junction  as 
one  of  co-ordination,  not  subordination,  and 
believes  that  the  rivalry  is  getting  less.  But 
it  was  not  too  many  years  ago  that  CIA  queried 
all  its  foreign  stations  in  Europe  in  an  attempt 
to  get  hold  of  a  special  piece  of  metal  tubing 
made  by  the  Russians.  An  aircraft  manufacturer, 
hearing  of  the  search,  mentioned  it  to  a  friend 
of  his  in  Navy  intelligence.  The  Navy  man 
pulled  out  his  top  desk  drawer,  indicated  that 
there  were  enough  duplicates  of  the  sought 
piece  to  spare  one  for  CIA,  and  then  asked  his 
friend  please  not  to  disclose  the  source  when  he 
carried  the  tubing  back  across  the  Potomac  to 
CIA  headquarters. 

AND     ALSO,     THE     FBI 

CIA's  relations  with  the  Federal  Bureau  of 
Investigation  have  also  been  strained.  The 
FBI,  unlike  CIA,  is  under  Congressional  scrutiny. 
It  is  directly  responsible  to  the  Attorney  Gen- 
eral, whose  Justice  Department  must  answer  to 
the  Congressional  Judiciary  and  Appropria- 
tions Committees.  Moreover,  the  FBI's  budget 
and  manpower  figures  are  public.  The  FBI's 
primary  responsibility  is  to  investigate  for  De- 
partment of  Justice  prosecutions— including 
domestic  counter-espionage  cases.  Yet  the  June 
1940  "delimitation  agreement,"  a  directive  from 
President  Roosevelt,  charged  the  FBI  with 
gathering  foreign  intelligence  in  the  Western 
Hemisphere.  (The  Army  was  assigned  Europe 
and  the  Canal  Zone;  the  Navy,  the  Pacific.) 
The  FBI  took  on  its  new  assignment  with  such 
gusto  that  there  were  said  to  be  more  FBI 
agents  than  diplomats  in  Latin  America  by  the 
time  this  country  entered  World  War  II,  one 
and  a  half  years  later. 

Former  FBI  agents  have  indicated  that  Direc- 
tor J.  Edgar  Hoover  regards  Dulles'  CIA  as  a 
considerable  departure  from  his  concept  of 
a  clean-cut,  eyes-straight-ahead,  investigating 
agency,  and  sees  to  it  that  it  is  given  only 
"token  compliance."  The  Hoover  conception  is 
reported  to  be  that  CIA  is  replete  with  white- 
shoes— scions  of  good  families  who  have  been 
graduated  from  Ivy  League  colleges— and  a  bit 
on  the  undisciplined,  left-wing  side.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  CIA  does  have  its  share  of 
good-family,  good-college  graduates.  And  there 
is    a    bit    in    the    agency's    orientation    talk    for 


new  employees  which  describes  CIA  as  a  means 
for  the  "intellectually  elite"  to  contribute  to 
government  without  having  to  be  immersed 
in  politics. 

But  Hoover  also  has  a  more  immediate  beef 
with  CIA.  The  agency's  pay  and  working  con- 
ditions are  considered  far  choicer  than  the 
FBI's,  and  Director  Hoover  was  not  overcome 
with  joy  when  a  good  many  of  his  personnel  be- 
gan  defecting.  A  no-raiding  pact  with  Dulles 
has  since  been  arrived  at.  And  while  the  FBI 
is  charged  with  all  domestic  security,  Hoover 
deferentially  asked  Dulles  to  do  the  security 
c  tearing  of  his  own  personnel  hereafter. 

Dulles  is  said  to  insist  that  the  FBI-CIA 
jurisdictions  are  clearly  differentiated,  that  he 
receives  many  reports  from  the  FBI  daily,  that 
an  FBI  representative  sits  on  his  Intelligence 
Advisory  Committee,  and  that  he  has  no 
complaints   regarding   Mr.    Hoover. 

But  Congressmen  recall  the  Donnybrook  up  in 
Seattle  four  years  ago  when  Johns  Hopkins 
Professor  Owen  Lattimore  was  reported  to  be 
on  the  verge  of  jumping  the  country  while 
under  federal  indictment  for  perjury.  The 
public  never  learned  whether  CIA  had  mis- 
informed the  FBI,  or  vice  versa.  But  Lattimore 
never  went  anywhere,  his  indictment  was  eventu- 
ally quashed  by  the  U.S.  Court  of  Appeals,  and 
the  two  CIA  agents  involved  declined  to  appear 
in  a  Seattle  court  to  testify  against  a  travel 
agent  who  had  been  charged  with  making  false 
statements  regarding  Lattimore's  movements. 

There  is  also  the  incident  of  the  West  Coast 
manufacturer  who,  in  addition  to  producing 
military  parts  for  the  Defense  Department,  de- 
cided to  contribute  some  intelligence  he  had 
gleaned  from  a  satellite  embassy  contact  in 
Washington.  He  took  his  information  to  the 
office  of  Vice  President  Nixon,  whence  it  was 
relayed  to  the  FBI.  But  the  manufacturer  had 
made  the  mistake  of  borrowing  a  CIA  friend's 
car  for  his  mission.  The  FBI,  the  manufacturer 
related,  seemed  only  too  eager  to  presume  the 
CIA  man  was  somehow  mixed  up  with  the 
satellite  embassy;  FBI  agents  burst  in  on  his 
unsuspecting  friend  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
and,  failing  to  get  his  confession,  proceeded  to 
put  a  check  on  the  manufacturer's  letters.  The 
manufacturer  had  no  doubt  of  the  latter  because 
a  tag  was  carelessly  left  on  one  of  his  envelopes 
declaring  his  house  was  subject  to  mail  check 
by  the  FBI. 

There  have  been  further  difficulties  over 
CIA's  relations  with  another  part  of  the  De- 
partment  of   Justice— the    Immigration    Service. 


CIA:  WHO  WATCHES  THE  WATCHMAN? 


49 


Washington  is  still  chuckling  over  the  comic 
opera  performed  at  its  fashionable  Three  Mus- 
keteers Restaurant  (now  renamed  Chez  Francois) 
in  1949  when  teams  of  CIA  and  Immigration 
agents  began  pummeling  each  other.  CIA  was 
in  the  Three  Musketeers  to  see  that  an  escaped 
Russian  pilot  was  not  kidnaped  by  Soviet  agents 
during  a  rendezvous;  Immigration,  to  arrest  the 
escapee  for  deportation.  Neither  knew  about 
the  other  and  both  suspected  the  worst.  The 
Americans  ended  up  with  bloody  noses  and 
bruises,  the  pilot  with  immigration  handcuffs 
which  the  CIA  couldn't  remove,  and  the  real 
Russian  agents,   of  course,   quietly  slipped  out. 

COUPS    AND     COUPS    D'ETAT 

A  SECOND  problem  which  Mansfield 
raises  is  the  difficulty  of  appraising  how 
effective  CIA  really  is.  From  what  the  unin- 
formed can  tell,  the  agency  scored  its  greatest 
coup  early  in  1956  when  it  obtained  from  Polish 
and  Yugoslavian  sources  the  mammoth  text  of 
Khrushchev's  fantastic  closed-door  denunciation 
of  Stalin  and  Stalinism.  CIA  got  the  text  six 
weeks  to  two  months  after  the  speech  had  been 
delivered,  but  long  before  the  Kremlin  had  de- 
cided how  it  was  to  be  edited  for  satellite  and 
outside-world  consumption.  It  may  have  cost  a 
king's  ransom,  but  its  publication  pretty  well 
demolished  the  Communist  movement  in  the 
United  States  and  brought  disillusion  and  dis- 
affection to  most  of  the  Communist  movements 
in  free  Europe,  especially  in  Italy  and  France. 

CIA  is  also  generally  credited  with  helping 
to  overthrow  the  Communist  regime  in  Guate- 
mala and  bring  in  the  late  President,  Carlos 
Castillo  Armas;  with  helping  to  clip  the  wings 
of  Iranian  Premier  Mohammed  Mossadegh;  and 
with  encouraging  Premier  Naguib  in  Egypt  once 
King  Farouk  had  been  forced  out.  (However, 
Naguib  has  since  yielded  to  Nasser,  and  CIA 
quite  obviously  doesn't  want  to  take  credit  for 
him.) 

But  these  accomplishments  in  turn  raise  other 
questions  which  Mansfield  feels  the  Congress 
should  consider:  Is  CIA  determining  American 
foreign  policy?  Has  clandestine  assistance  to 
coups  d'etat  become  necessary  to  counter  the 
overt  and  clandestine  assistance  Russia  has  been 
dispensing? 

The  general  public  is  for  the  most  part  ig- 
norant of  these  problems.  The  Senators  and 
Congressmen  who  know  or  suspect  are  skittish 
about  facing  up  to  them.  The  National  Security 
Act  of    1947   gives   license   to   such   "cold  war" 


activity  in  a  twenty-five-word  paragraph  which 
states  that  one  of  the  purposes  of  CIA  shall  be 
"to  perform  such  other  functions  and  duties  re- 
lated to  intelligence  affecting  the  national 
security  as  the  National  Security  Council  may 
from  time  to  time  direct." 

This  seems  to  create  the  potential  for  a  dual 
foreign  policy.  Suppose,  for  instance,  an  Am- 
bassador preoccupied  with  economic  matters 
takes  little  interest  in  the  local  CIA  personnel, 
and  the  personnel— charged  with  both  writing 
intelligence  reports  and  performing  cold-war 
activities— condition  the  reports  and  thereby  the 
Ambassador's  decisions? 

CIA  men  hold  that  it  is  impossible  for  the 
agency  to  diverge  from  official  foreign  policy 
because  all  of  its  cold-war  missions  first  go 
through  a  secret  committee  appointed  by  the 
National  Security  Council,  at  the  under-secre- 
tary  level,  where  various  administrative  agencies 
give  the  nod.  But  without  specific  data  from 
CIA,  Congressmen  are  hard  pressed  to  pass 
judgment  on  how  well  this  works. 

They  might  recall  one  example  of  a  dual  for- 
eign policy  situation  on  the  Burma-China  border 
in  1951  when  Nationalist  Chinese  troops  were 
brought  into  Burma  to  harass  the  Chinese  Com- 
munists in  Yunnan  Province.  The  maneuver 
soured.  The  Nationalist  troops  decided  they 
could  make  a  better  living  growing  opium— 
and  some  of  them  have  been  bunked  down  in 
North  Burma  doing  just  that  ever  since.  Burma 
was  embarrassedly  forced  to  cancel  her  American 
aid  program.  And  the  United  States  Ambassador, 
David  M.  Key,  resigned  in  disgust. 

Key  declares:  "I  had  heard  persistent  reports 
that  Americans  were  taking  part  when  I  was  sent 
there.  I  found  that  hard  to  credit,  but  learned 
differently  later." 

CIA  disavows  any  part  in  the  incident, 
declaring  the  Chinese  Nationalist  troops  were 
dispatched  to  the  Burmese  border  by  Chiang 
Kai-shek  himself.  Others,  however,  contend  CIA 
was  indeed  the  instrument  of  the  Burma  ma- 
neuver; but  that  the  agency  was  merely  dutifully 
carrying  out  a  scheme  hatched  by  one  of  the 
State   Department's   top   policy   planners. 

There  was  another  episode  in  September  1955 
when  a  CIA  agent  took  it  upon  himself  to  seek 
out  the  Egyptian  President,  Gamal  Abdel  Nasser, 
and  advise  him  to  ignore  a  forthcoming  State 
Department  note.  The  note,  an  attempt  to 
limit  Nasser's  purchase  of  arms  from  Commu- 
nist Czechoslovakia  to  a  one-shot  deal,  was 
deemed  sufficiently  important  for  the  then  As- 
sistant Secretary  of  State  for  Middle  East  Affairs, 


50 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


George  Allen,  to  fly  to  Cairo  and  deliver  it  in 
person.  The  CIA  man,  however,  was  disturbed  by 
the  State  Department's  attempts  to  pressure  Nas- 
ser, in  contrast  to  the  pro-Nasser  attitude  of  then 
Ambassador  Henry  A.  Byroade,  and  decided  to 
play  Secretary  of  State  on  his  own.  He  notified 
Byroade  of  what  he  was  about  to  do,  but  the 
State  Department  in  Washington  was  not  given 
this  courtesy.  And  it  was  too  late  to  prevent 
Allen  from  arriving  in  Cairo  and  finding  the 
ground  had  been  cut  out  from  under  him. 

HOW     MUCH     DO    THEY     KNOW? 

ON  THE  espionage  side,  Senator  Mans- 
field contends  that  this  country  was  caught 
"flat-looted"  in  the  Polish  and  Hungarian  upris- 
ings, in  the  Middle  East  outburst  that  resulted 
in  the  closing  of  the  Suez  Canal,  and,  more  re- 
cently, in  the  Kremlin  shake-up  which  ousted 
Molotov,  Malenkov,  Kaganovich,  and  Shepilov. 

In  this  regard,  Allen  Dulles  said  somewhat 
whimsically  to  an  Advertising  Council  meeting 
in  San  Francisco  last  September:  "I  am  the  head 
of  the  silent  service  and  cannot  advertise  my 
wares.  Sometimes,  I  admit,  this  is  a  bit  irksome. 
Often  we  know  a  bit  more  about  what  is  going 
on  in  the  world  than  we  are  credited  with, 
and  we  realize  a  little  advertisement  might 
improve  our  public  relations." 

What  he  was  too  tactful  to  point  out  was  that 
the  best  reports  in  the  world  are  of  little  use 
if  nobody  reads  them.  Apparently  he  was  more 
open  at  a  top-secret  National  Security  Council 
meeting  at  the  turn  of  this  year  when  he  com- 
plained to  the  President  that  the  Administration 
ignored  CIA  findings.  Eisenhower  reportedly 
showed  great  annoyance  at  this,  announcing  that 
the  reports  were  too  ponderous  to  read  and  ask- 
ing that  henceforth  CIA  append  maps,  with  red 
arrows  pointing  to  strategic  points,  and  head- 
line summaries  to  its  daily  intelligence  digests. 
CIA  resignedly  set  several  dozen  of  its  personnel 
to  the  task  of  making  its  reports  more  readable. 

Although  CIA  remains  officially  silent,  on 
occasions  for  both  criticism  and  praise,  it  is 
fairly  reliably  known  that  the  agency  was  aware 
of  the  pressures  in  both  Poland  and  Hungary, 
even  if  its  "estimate"  to  the  National  Security 
Council  predicted  Hungary,  instead  of  Poland, 
would  be  the  first  to  blow  up. 

In  Suez,  it  was  long  suggested  that  Nasser 
might  close  the  Canal.  But  the  policy-makers 
in  Washington  decided  to  go  on  the  assumption 
that  he  wouldn't  be  that  foolish.  And  as  for 
what  followed,  U.S.  News  and  World  Report,  a 


magazine  which  had  previously  published  a 
signed  article  by  Dulles,  baldly  stated  that  CIA 
delivered  a  top-secret  report  to  the  White  House 
twenty-four  hours  before  the  Israeli  attack,  pre- 
dicting it  would  be  made  against  Egypt,  not 
Jordan,  as  had  been  assumed,  and  that  Britain 
and  France  would  also  establish  beachheads  in 
the  Canal  area. 

On  the  Kremlin  shake-up,  CIA  either  failed 
to  anticipate  the  move,  or  official  Washington 
was  surprisingly  numb  for  some  days  afterward 
when  asked  what  to  make  of  it. 

In  the  more  recent  shake-up  involving  Marshal 
Zhukov,  CIA  reportedly  told  the  Administration 
that  Zhukov  was  being  boosted  up,  not  down. 
Asked  about  this  at  his  press  conference,  the 
President  defended  CIA,  saying  he  didn't  think 
any  intelligence  service  could  give  "a  complete 
and  positive  answer." 

In  the  field  of  scientific  appraisals,  such  as 
Russia's  progress  in  satellites  and  ballistic  mis- 
siles, it  is  known  that  CIA  predicted  the  Soviet 
success  back  in  1955— and  was  ignored. 

On  some  occasions  it  is  difficult  to  tell  whether 
CIA  intelligence  was  faulty,  or  CIA  took  the 
rap  for  some  other  agency.  The  classic  example 
was  during  the  Chinese  Communist  invasion  of 
South  Korea  in  November  1950.  General  Douglas 
MacArthur  had  confidently  assured  President 
Truman  that  this  would  never  happen.  When 
it  did,  he  accused  both  CIA  and  the  State  De- 
partment of  holding  out  on  him.  President 
Truman  replied  that  if  MacArthur  did  not  have 
the  benefits  of  CIA  reports  at  the  time,  it  was 
"because  he  did  not  let  the  agency  operate  in 
his  command  until  recently."  Mansfield,  how- 
ever, recalls  CIA's  first  director,  Rear  Admiral 
Hillenkoetter,  telling  the  House  Foreign  Affairs 
Committee  in  executive  session  that  the  Chinese 
Communists  would  never  invade  South  Korea- 
just  days  before  they  did. 

On  another  occasion,  in  April  1948,  General 
George  Marshall,  then  Secretary  of  State,  ar- 
rived in  Bogota  for  the  Ninth  International 
Conference  of  American  States  just  as  a  revolu- 
tion broke  out.  The  five-star  General  immedi- 
ately went  back  to  fundamentals  and  carefully 
deployed  his  troops— the  dozen  or  so  Marines 
who  happened  to  be  in  Bogota  at  the  time— to 
various   ramparts  around   the   Embassy. 

CIA  Director  Hillenkoetter  told  a  subsequent 
House  hearing  that  a  Lieutenant  Colonel  at- 
tached to  the  State  Department's  division  of 
international  conferences  had  blocked  CIA  from 
cabling  beforehand  that  the  Communists  were 
out  to  humiliate  the  United  States  delegation. 


CIA:  WHO  WATCHES  THE  WATCHMAN? 


51 


According  to  Hillenkoetter,  the  State  Department 
official  had  not  thought  it  "advisable"  to  alarm 
Washington.  The  State  Department  replied  that 
it  was  inconceivable  that  such  an  official  would 
have  the  authority  to  stop  such  a  report. 

DOLLARS    AND    CENTS 

BECAUSE  CIA  keeps  its  budget  and  man- 
power figures  under  wraps,  it  is  impossible 
to  appraise  the  frequent  charges  of  waste  heard 
around  Washington.  Some  waste  charges  Dulles 
will  readily  admit,  on  the  argument  that  intel- 
ligence gathering  is  like  drilling  for  oil  wells: 
there  will  be  a  good  many  dry  holes  before 
you  come  up  with  a  gusher.  Of  the  nation's 
nine  intelligence  organs— CIA,  the  Department 
of  Defense's  National  Security  Agency,  the  FBI, 
and  those  sections  at  the  Army,  Navy,  Air  Force, 
State  Department,  Atomic  Energy  Commission, 
and  United  States  Information  Agency  (which 
likes  to  consider  itself  included)— CIA,  as  it  is 
careful  to  point  out,  accounts  for  only  one- 
eighth  the  total  expenditures.  The  percentage 
teases,  but  still  gives  no  inkling  of  the  amount 
of  money  CIA  has  to  spend. 

There  is  one  situation,  however,  where  a 
budget  figure  is  known,  and  that  is  for  CIA's 
$56,000,000  new  headquarters  in  Langley,  Vir- 
ginia, where  contracts  are  expected  to  be  let 
by  August. 

The  building  will  not  actually  cost  $56,000,000, 
since  $8,500,000  of  this  is  to  be  used  for  improv- 
ing access  roads.  But  then  neither  is  there 
assurance  that  all  of  CIA's  x  number  of  em- 
ployees in  some  thirty-four  buildings  around 
Washington  will  be  gathered  under  one  roof. 
Congress  ordered  this  consolidation  when  ap- 
proving the  sum,  but  Dulles  has  refused  to 
promise  anything  more  than  that  he  will  do 
his  best.  And  the  CIA  Director,  who  originally 
had  hopes  for  a  "Princeton-like  campus"  (his 
Class  is  '14),  must  now  content  himself  with 
Spartan  cement. 

The  Langley  move  has  brought  criticism  from 
all  over.  Some  State  Department  officials  see 
it  as  a  dreadful  propaganda  mistake  to  label 
any  great  new  building  "Spy  Headquarters." 
Dulles'  desire  to  be  no  further  than  a  twenty- 
minute  dash  from  the  White  House  hardly  co- 
incides with  the  Office  of  Defense  Mobilization 
directives  to  disperse  beyond  H-bomb  distance 
of  Washington.  The  residents  of  Virginia's  still 
rural  Fairfax  County  fought  a  long  but  unsuc- 
cessfu'  Lattle  to  keep  the  "Second  Pentagon" 
fr^m  dragging  suburbia  into  their  peaceful  roll- 


ing woods  and  pastures.  Even  Senate  Minority 
Leader  Knowland  of  California,  never  known  for 
his  levity,  was  amazed  when  Dulles,  pleading 
for  his  heart-set  site  in  Virginia,  assured  Con- 
gress CIA  could  enjoy  added  security  by  having 
the  Potomac  form  one  of  its  borders.  Quipped 
Knowland  to  a  colleague:  "What's  he  afraid  of? 
Attack  by  Indians?" 

Dulles'  security  problems  also  brought  a  laugh 
a  few  years  back  when  a  known  intelligence 
agent  at  the  Soviet  Embassy  was  spotted  enroll- 
ing in  a  Georgetown  University  Slavic  language 
class  frequented  by  CIA  employes. 

A    FOOT    IN    THE    DOOR 

ACTUALLY,  four  checks  into  CIA's  ac- 
tivities have  been  conducted  during  the 
past  eight  years— two  at  the  instigation  of  the 
White  House,  two  at  the  instigation  of  ex- 
President  Herbert  Hoover's  Commission  on 
Government  Reorganization. 

The  first,  in  1949,  was  conducted  by  a  Hoover 
Commission  task  force  headed  by  Ferdinand 
Eberstadt,  the  former  Assistant  Secretary  of  De- 
fense who  had  helped  to  set  up  CIA.  The 
Eberstadt  report  found  CIA  sound  in  principle, 
but  in  need  of  a  top-level  evaluation  board 
whose  responsibilities  would  not  become  bogged 
down  in  mere  administrative  detail. 

The  second  check  was  in  1950  under  a  three- 
man  Administration  committee  headed  by  Allen 
Dulles,  who  at  that  time  had  left  his  wartime 
OSS  duties  to  practice  law  on  Wall  Street.  The 
Dulles  committee  reportedly  found  "much  cause 
for  dissatisfaction."  General  Smith  was  brought 
in  to  replace  Admiral  Hillenkoetter  as  director, 
and  Smith  asked  Dulles  himself  to  come  down 
for  what  was  naively  thought  to  be  merely  a 
few  weeks  of  consultation.  Dulles  ended  up  as 
CIA's  deputy  director  for  two-and-a-half  years, 
and  then  director. 

The  third  CIA  check,  in  1954  and  again  under 
the  White  House,  was  headed  by  Air  Force  Lieu- 
tenant General  James  H.  Doolittle.  It  praised 
CIA  for  doing  a  "creditable  job,"  recommended 
in  secret  that  certain  changes  be  made,  and 
complimented  CIA  for  taking  steps  to  remedy 
what  shortcomings  there  were. 

The  Doolittle  comments  were  published  by 
the  White  House  within  days  after  the  first 
meeting  of  the  Hoover  Commission's  second  task 
force  headed  by  General  Mark  W.  Clark.  The 
proximity  was  not  thought  accidental.  Nor  was 
it  considered  accidental  a  year  later,  in  1955, 
when    the   White    House    immediately    adopted 


52 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


one  of  the  Hoover  Commission's  recommenda- 
tions—for a  citizens'  committee  of  consultants 
on  foreign  intelligence  activities— and  pointedly 
ignored  its  second— for  a  joint  Congressional 
"watchdog"  committee.  The  first  is  responsible 
to  the  President,  and  so  within  the  Adminis- 
tration family;  the  second  would  not  be. 

CIA  employees  were  alerted  months  in  advance 
for  the  arrival  of  the  Clark  task  force.  When 
the  investigators  finally  appeared  it  was  like 
barracks  inspection  in  the  Army:  everything  was 
a  buzz  of  activity;  specially-ordered  maps  and 
charts  were  unfurled;  and  the  intra-office  snicker 
was  "snow  job."  Nevertheless,  the  Clark  task 
force  came  up  with  definite  conclusions  and 
recommendations.  Its  main  report  went  directly 
to  the  President.  No  copies  were  made  and  not 
even  the  twelve  Hoover  Commissioners  dared 
look  at  it. 

In  the  public  section  of  its  report,  however, 
the.  Clark  task  force: 

(1)  declared  that  Director  Dulles  "in  his  en- 
thusiasm .  .  .  has  taken  upon  himself  too 
many  burdensome  duties  and  responsibilities  on 
the  operational  side  of  CIA's  activities,"  and 
recommended  a  basic  internal  reorganization 
under  an  executive  officer  or  "chief  of  staff"; 

(2)  rapped  the  State  Department  for  some- 
times interfering  with  CIA  intelligence-gathering 
abroad  out  of  "an  abhorrence  to  anything  that 
might  lead  to  diplomatic,  or  even  protocol 
complications"; 

(3)  expressed  great  concern  over  the  "lack  of 
adequate  intelligence  from  behind  the  Iron 
Curtain,"  and  clearly  implied  that  the  dossier 
on  friends  and  neutrals  was  more  complete  than 
the  one  on  enemies. 

The  full  Hoover  Commission,  in  recommend- 
ing both  the  Presidential  board  of  consultants 
and  the  Congressional  watchdog  committee,  re- 
ferred to  the  latter  as  "a  means  of  re-establishing 
that  relationship  between  the  CIA  and  the  Con- 
gress so  essential  to  and  characteristic  of  our 
democratic  form  of  government,  but  which  was 
abrogated  by  the  enactment  of  Public  Law  110 
(the  National  Security  Act).  .  .  ." 

It  was  this  last  recommendation  which  Sena- 
tor Mansfield  picked  up  and  tried  to  get  through 
Congress.  And  the  Senator  emphasized  that  he 
thought  the  committee  was  necessary  not  just 
to  supervise,  but  also  to  protect  the  agency 
from  irresponsible  attacks,  such  as  the  one 
launched  by  the  late  Senator  Joseph  McCarthy 
of  Wisconsin. 

McCarthy  and  his  helpmate,  Roy  M.  Cohn, 
had  made  it  plain  that  when  their  Senate  In- 


vestigating Subcommittee  was  through  with  the 
Army  it  w;is  going  to  move  on  to  CIA.  With- 
out even  waiting  for  the  formal  opening  of  that 
investigation.  McCarthy,  in  the  summer  of  1953, 
tried  to  force  Dulles  to  fire  William  P.  Bundy,  a 
top  State  Department  official  who  had  gone  into 
CIA.  For  McCarthy's  purposes,  Bundy  had  en- 
dangered the  nation's  security  by  contributing 
$400  to  the  Alger  Hiss  defense  fund,  and— pos- 
sibly more  heinous— had  married  Dean  Acheson's 
daughter. 

In  the  Bundy  case,  Dulles  stood  his  ground, 
called  McCarthy's  bluff  by  asking  for  specifics 
which  never  came,  and  successfully  rode  the 
issue  out.  But  Mansfield  contends  that  attacks 
on  CIA  could  arise  in  the  future— perhaps  hack- 
ing away  at  its  budget  as  Congress,  in  a  fit  of 
pique,  succeeded  in  doing  with  the  United  States 
Information  Agency  budget  last  summer.  Should 
such  an  attack  against  CIA  arise,  Mansfield 
declares,  a  veteran  group  of  legislators,  familiar 
with  CIA  and  its  leadership,  could  then  rally 
to  its  support. 

WHAT  THE  WATCHDOG 
SHOULD  BE 

TH  E  Senator  actually  anticipated  the 
Hoover  Commission  when  he  first  proposed 
a  CIA  watchdog  committee  in  July  1953.  At 
that  time  his  bill  called  for  an  eighteen-man 
group,  nine  from  the  Senate  and  nine  from  the 
House.  But  to  placate  those  who  thought  this 
would  be  spreading  secrets  too  far,  he  scaled  the 
membership  down  to  twelve  in  his  later  bill, 
specifying  that  three-man  groups  should  come 
from  the  Senate  and  House  Appropriations  and 
Armed  Services  Committees.  The  Appropriations 
Committees  are  the  only  ones  which  now  go 
through  even  the  formalities  of  supervision,  but 
top  Armed  Services  members  often  belong  to 
both  committees,  or  sit  in,  at  least  on  the 
Senate  side.  The  House  has  never  listed  its 
CIA  subcommittee  members,  and  staff  officials 
of  the  House  Appropriations  Committee,  when 
asked,  say  they  have  no  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
committee's existence. 

The  Mansfield  bill  would  also  have  provided 
a  $250,000  annual  budget  for  a  committee  staff. 
A  staff  is  the  mainstay  of  every  Congressional 
committee,  for  staff  personnel,  not  committee 
members,  have  the  time  to  familiarize  themselves 
with  salient  agency  issues.  And  only  a  staff  has 
the  facilities  to  keep  files  on  agency  business, 
past  and  pending.  Yet  it  is  the  staff  idea  par- 
ticularly which  is  said  to  make  Dulles  balk.   He 


CIA:  WHO  WATCHES  THE  WATCHMAN? 


53 


is  reported  to  feel  that  he  would  not  be  making 
unauthorized  disclosures  by  discussing  CIA  mat- 
ters with  selected  legislators,  because  they  carry 
the  mandate  of  the  electorate.  Professional  staff 
members  are  another  matter,  especially  since 
they  might  be  recruited  from  disgruntled  ex-CIA 
employees. 

THE  one  attempt  so  far  at  a  watchdog  group 
for  CIA— the  President's  Board  of  Consultants 
on  Foreign  Intelligence  Activities,  established 
by  Presidential  executive  order  in  February  1956, 
in  compliance  with  half  of  the  Hoover  Com- 
mission's recommendations— is  headed  by  James 
R.  Killian  Jr.,  president  of  the  Massachusetts 
Institute  of  Technology  and  now  the  President's 
Special  Assistant  for  Science,  and  includes  such 
a  distinguished  roster  of  members  as  Robert  A. 
Lovett,  the  former  Defense  Secretary  and  Under 
Secretary  of  State;  Benjamin  F.  Fairless  of  United 
States  Steel;  Edward  L.  Ryerson  of  Inland  Steel; 
Colgate  Darden,  president  of  the  University 
of  Virginia  and  a  former  Virginia  Governor; 
Retired  Admiral  Richard  L.  Conolly,  president 
of  Long  Island  University;  Retired  General 
John  E.  Hull,  president  of  the  Manufacturing 
Chemists  Association;  and  General  Doolittle, 
who  prepared  the  White  House's  1954  report 
on  CIA. 

But  the  consultants  are  required  to  meet 
only  semi-annually  and  rely  on  a  three-man  staff 
composed  of  Brigadier  General  (Ret.)  John  F. 
Cassidy,  one  assistant,  and  one  stenographer. 
And  Mansfield  feels  that  at  best  a  group  within 
the  executive  branch— and  responsible  only  to 
that  branch— can  be  but  self-serving. 


He  may  yet  reopen  his  crusade  for  a  Con- 
gressional committee.  He  is  no  longer  a  fresh- 
man. As  Democratic  whip,  he  is  today  Majority 
Leader  Johnson's  alter  ego  and  a  member  of 
the  Senate's  inner  club,  where  he  is  treated  with 
affection  and  respect.  Moreover  he  believes  that 
the  recent  surprises  given  the  Congress  and  the 
American  public— if  not  the  Administration— 
by  Poland,  Hungary,  the  Middle  East,  the  Krem- 
lin shake-up,  and  the  sputniks  will  influence 
more  Senators  to  take  closer  interest  in  CIA 
supervision  the  next  time  the  vote  comes  up. 
A  year  ago,  Congressman  Daniel  J.  Flood  of 
Pennsylvania  introduced  a  bill  similar  to  Mans- 
field's in  the  House— a  bill  which  had  fourteen 
co-sponsors.  It  is  still  to  be  given  a  committee 
hearing. 

Any  Congressional  committee  would,  of  course, 
have  to  understand  that  it  could  not  ask  CIA 
to  divulge  the  names  of  its  agents,  sources,  or 
cover  agencies.  But  there  is  no  need  for  such 
identification  in  any  over-all  check  and,  indeed, 
the  Mansfield  bill  did  not  ask  for  it.  The  legis- 
lators would  have  to  police  their  membership 
to  prevent  leaks  of  the  information  they  did 
get  and  keep  an  alert  against  any  Congres- 
sional temptation  to  meddle  in  CIA  operations. 
This,  too,  should  not  be  impossible. 

And,  with  or  without  a  watchdog  committee, 
Congress  must  face  up  to  the  responsibilities  it 
now  has.  It  must  recognize  that  the  nation's 
security  is  very  much  a  part  of  its  business, 
and  dissipate  the  awe  of  secrecy  which  makes  a 
Saltonstall  of  Massachusetts,  a  Russell  of  Georgia, 
and  a  Hayden  of  Arizona  protest  that  there 
are  some  things  they  would  rather  not  hear. 


THE   STAR   FROM   FOUR   TO   FIVE 


lH  E  world  is  ready  to  take  a  new  child  star  to  its  heart  .  .  .  and  I  am  convinced 
Leslie  [his  four-year-old  daughter]  could  be  the  one.  ...  I  am  training  her  to 
be  natural,  to  be  herself.  I  don't  let  her  associate  with  other  children.  They 
only  remind  her  that  she  is  a  child.  Her  mother  and  I  are  trying  to  keep  her 
on  a  level  with  us.  She  will  not  start  acting  until  she  is  five.  If  she  becomes 
a  star  I  will  know  how  to  look  after  her.  .  .  . 

When  we  are  ready  to  start  production,  I  will  form  my  own  company  and 
if  Leslie  is  as  big  a  star  as  I  think  she  will  be,  I  believe  she  should  collect  at 
least  $400,000  on  her  twenty-first  birthday.  .  .  . 

Public  adoration  is  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world. 

—Jackie  Coogan,  quoted  by  Joe  Hyams,  N.  Y.  Herald  Tribune,  January  30,  1958. 


By   ARTHUR   C.    CLARKE 

Drawing  by  Tomi  Lingerer 


Standing  Room 
ONLY 


There  will  have  to  be  some  changes  made — 

in  sex  habits,  ethics,  and  human  nature 

itself — to   make   room   for   our   descendants   on 

this  soon-to-be  overcrowded  planet. 

Here  are  five  possibilities,  all  of  them 

shocking.    Anyone  who  can  think  up  a  better 

alternative  will  be  doing  the  greatest  of 

services  to  all  future  generations. 

OURS  is  perhaps  the  first  age  in  history 
to  worry  about  the  Future— and  with 
good  reason.  It  is  true  that  there  have  been 
prophets  of  doom  since  the  time  of  Cassandra— 
and  doubtless  earlier— but  the  disasters  they  pre- 
dicted were  strictly  local  ones.  The  falls  of  Troy 
and  Babylon  and  Rome  may  have  seemed  like 
the  end  of  the  world  to  those  directly  involved; 
we  can  only  smile  wryly  at  such  egocentricity. 
When  we  talk  about  the  end  of  the  world,  we 
mean  exactly  that,  and  we  have  a  wide  range  of 
varieties  from  which  to  chose. 

But  the  peril  I  want  to  discuss  at  the  moment 
is  not  one  of  the  more  spectacular  disasters 
which  spring  so  readily  to  mind.  It  is  another, 
quite  different,  and  absolutely  inescapable  dan- 
ger which  will  confront  us  all  the  more  promptly 
if  we  avoid  the  menace  of  atomic  war.  And  it 
is  one  for  which  I  have  never  seen  any  realistic 
solution  proposed,  despite  all  the  millions  of 
words  that  have  been  written  about  it. 


We  have  been  living  for  the  last  two  or  three 
hundred  years  in  a  completely  abnormal  period 
of  history  where  everything  has  been  happening 
at  once  and  all  the  patterns  of  culture  and  tech- 
nology have  been  changing  out  of  recognition. 
As  a  result  we  tend  to  forget  that  sooner  or  later 
the  world  has  either  to  blow  up  or  to  settle 
down.  The  skyrocketing  curves  of  fuel  produc- 
tion, power  generation,  ore  extraction,  and 
population  increase  cannot  continue  to  shoot 
almost  vertically  upward  for  very  much  longer; 
sooner  or  later  they  must  flatten  out.  This  is 
common  sense,  but  it  is  seldom  that  anyone 
admits  it.* 

Sometime  in  the  foreseeable  future— it  does 
not  matter  if  the  time  is  a  hundred  or  a  thousand 
years  from  now,  though  it  will  be  much  nearer 
the  former— the  population  of  the  world  has  to 
be  stabilized,  for  the  first  time  since  the  end  of 
the  Dark  Ages.   Most  of  us  would  agree  that  this 


*  The  present  population  of  the  world  is  about  two 
and  a  half  billion.  Thanks  to  human  fertility  and 
to  medical  progress,  which  has  lengthened  the  span 
of  life  and  sharply  reduced  infant  mortality,  the 
earth's  population  is  increasing  by  117,000  people 
every  day.  At  this  rate,  the  total  population  will 
double  in  fifty  years— and  double  again  in  the  next 
fifty.  Some  demographers  have  estimated  that  it  may 
reach  20  billion  by  the  year  2106.  The  rate  of  growth 
is  now  three  times  as  fast  as  it  was  in  the  first  quarter 
of  this  century,  and  many  times  faster  than  in  th" 
early  periods  of  human  history. 

For  detailed  figures,  see  the  United  Nations  Demo- 
graphic Yearbook  for  1956.  —The  Editors 


STANDING     ROOM     ONLY 


55 


plateau  of  population  should  not— and  indeed 
cannot— be  established  by  the  ancient  checks  of 
war  and  pestilence.  It  has  to  be  established, 
deliberately  or  unconsciously,  by  a  fundamental 
change  in  the  pattern  of  human  reproduction. 

At  a  point  not  far  in  the  future,  for  every 
person  who  dies,  one  must  be  born— no  more,  no 
less.  The  actual  size  of  the  population  when  this 
time  comes  is  quite  immaterial,  and  all  argu- 
ments as  to  whether  the  world  can  support  ten 
or  a  hundred  billion  people  are  totally  irrelevant. 
The  fact  that  there  are  still  ample  resources  for 
a  much  larger  population  than  now  exists  is  a 
red  herring  which  must  be  ignored.  What  we 
are  concerned  with  is  the  situation  when  those 
resources  have  been  exploited  to  the  utmost. 

When  that  time  arrives,  the  average  number 
of  children  per  family  must  be  a  fraction  over 
two.  Perhaps  one  family  in  twenty  could  be 
allowed  three  children  to  make  up  for  the  child- 
less marriages  and  for  the  inevitable  deaths  by 
disease  or  accident  which  must  occur  even  in  the 
most  Utopian  society.  But  we  can  say  that  the 
average  couple  must  (not  may!)  produce  exactly 
two  offspring  during  their  entire  married  life. 
However  depressing  this  situation  may  appear  to 
us,  it  is  one  which  our  descendants  will  have  to 
face,  unless  humanity  goes  back  to  the  Stone 
Age  via  starvation  and  disease,  and  starts  all  over 
again. 

It  is  an  elementary  biological  fact  that  two 
offspring  per  family  is  far  below  what  might  be 
called  the  natural  reproduction  rate,  and  the 
disparity  will  be  increased  as  the  progress  of 
medicine  lengthens  the  span  of  life.  There  are 
still  societies  in  which  women  produce  ten  or  a 
dozen  children  during  perhaps  twenty  years  of 
fertility;  we  have  to  look  forward  (if  that  is  the 
right  phrase)  to  a  society  in  which  very  few 
women  can  be  pregnant  more  than  twice  in 
thirty  or  forty  years.  And  a  society  in  which— 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  male— just  two 
reproductive  acts  will  exhaust  the  allowance  of 
an  entire  lifetime  ...  or  even  one,  if  he  is  un- 
lucky enough  to  father  twins.  .  .  . 

How  can  this  biological  dilemma  be  resolved? 
It  must  be  emphasized  that  there  is  absolutely 
no  escape  from  it,  if  civilization  is  to  continue. 
Some  optimists  have  suggested  that  interplane- 
tary travel  may  be  the  ultimate  answer,  but  this 
is  a  complete  fallacy.  Colonization  never  helps 
for  more  than  a  few  generations,  because  the 
colonists  breed  more  rapidly  than  the  folk  at 
home  and  soon  fill  up  all  the  empty  spaces— as 
the  classic  example  of  the  United  States  amply 
demonstrates.    Even   if  all   the  planets  were  as 


fertile  as  the  great  American  plains— instead  of 
being  barren  wildernesses  which  will  require 
miracles  of  engineering  to  develop— they  would 
not  affect  the  problem  appreciably.  There  is 
no  way  out  into  Space;  the  battle  of  population 
has  to  be  fought  and  won  here  on  Earth. 

CUTTING     DOWN 
ON  CHILDREN 

IT  WILL  be  a  battle  indeed,  and  the  victory 
may  not  be  worth  the  cost,  for  it  will  involve 
the  sacrifice  of  many  of  the  values  we  hold  dear. 
One  might  go  even  further  than  this,  and  state 
outright  that  the  society  of  the  future,  in  its 
struggle  for  stability,  will  be  forced  to  violate  the 
religious  and  ethical  beliefs  of  almost  every 
human  being  alive  today.  Let  us  examine  the 
possible  solutions  to  the  problem,  and  see  if 
there  are  any  that  we  would  tolerate. 

Hypothetical  Society  A  is  the  one  that  would 
require  the  least  form-filling  and  government 
control,  and  the  fewest  restrictions  on  personal 
behavior.  Unfortunately,  the  price  is  high.  You 
can  have  as  many  children  as  you  like— but 
prompt  infanticide  is  compulsory  after  the 
second. 

Any  volunteers?  I  rather  thought  not;  perhaps 
you  didn't  take  me  seriously.  But  this  is  the  only 
answer  if  more  than  two  children  are  born  per 
family,  when  the  world  has  reached  its  level  of 
maximum  supportable  population. 

Some  hard-headed  eugenists  might  put  up  a 
case  for  letting  the  surplus  children  grow  until 
they  were  old  enough  to  take  mental  and  physi- 
cal tests  qualifying  them  for  survival.  After 
which,  the  "failures"  would  be— in  that  useful 
word  which  is  one  of  Communism's  many  gifts 
to  civilization— "liquidated."  But  most  of  us 
would  prefer  not  to  bring  children  into  the 
world  if  we  knew  that  they  had  to  be  killed,  so 
let  us  look  at  possible  societies  that  avoid  the 
problem,  by  some  form  of  birth  control— using 
that  phrase  in  its  widest  and  least  controversial 
form.  For  that  is  what  the  choice  will  come  to 
in  the  long  run,  in  a  closed  society  that  has 
abolished  natural  checks  to  population— infan- 
ticide or  birth  control.    No   alternatives  exist. 

Society  B  has  another  of  the  nice,  simple 
answers.  All  couples  are  sterilized  after  they  have 
had  their  ration  of  two  children,  though  enough 
lucky  pairs  are  allowed  three  to  take  care  of  the 
natural  wastage.  This  is  not  quite  as  bad  as 
Society  A,  and  most  of  us  would  probably  vote 
for  it  if  there  was  no  other  choice.  However, 
there  is  a  grim  alternative. 


56 


HARPERS     MAGAZINE 


Society  C  leaves  the  method  of  regulation  to 
the  parents,  but  imposes  such  ferocious  penalties 
(e.g.,  rigorous  imprisonment  lor  the  remainder 
of  one's  period  of  fertility)  that  the  production 
of  more  than  two  children  is  strongly  inhibited. 
It  seems  likely  that  the  emotional  strains  gen- 
erated in  such  a  culture  would  blow  it  to  pieces 
rather  promptly,  unless  methods  of  thought  con- 
trol are  evolved  beyond  anything  dreamed  of  in 
the  police  states  of  today.  (And  they  will  be; 
trust  the  psychologists  for  that.) 

The  three  societies  I  have  listed  all  have  one 
thing  in  common;  they  are  desperate  attempts 
to  save  the  situation  by  tinkering,  not  by  a 
fundamentally  new  approach  to  the  nature  of 
man.  The  more  one  looks  at  the  problem,  the 
more  one  is  forced  to  conclude  that  if  there  is  an 
answer,  it  will  involve  a  complete  change  in  the 
patterns  of  human  sexual  behavior. 

How  such  a  change  could  be  brought  about 
(even  if  it  were  desired)  is  something  I  will  not 
discuss  here;  I  am  concerned  only  to  see  where 
the  logic  of  the  situation  leads.  It  is  a  fact  that 
sexual  behavior  can  and  does  vary  with  great 
rapidity;  look  at  the  size  of  your  grandparents' 
families  if  you  doubt  that.  The  sort  of  change 
we  may  have  to  bring  about  within  the  next  five 
hundred  years,  however,  will  be  more  drastic 
than  anything  that  has  happened  in  the  known 
history  and  surmised  prehistory  of  mankind.  It 
is  the  penalty  we  may  have  to  pay  for  construct- 
ing a  civilization  as  totally  unnatural  as  the  one 
which  we  have  been  busily  building  ever  since 
the  rise  of  modern  science  and  technology. 

Man's  sexual  drives  and  capacities  were  de- 
signed for  a  primitive  and  dangerous  environ- 
ment in  which  only  a  minority  of  children  sur- 
vived to  become  adults.  We  have  left  that  en- 
vironment centuries  behind,  but  every  fertile 
woman  still  produces  a  dozen  ova  a  year,  every 
man  enough  spermatazoa  in  a  lifetime  to  have 
fathered  the  entire  human  race  back  to  Adam. 
Somehow,  this  fantastic  disparity  has  to  be  re- 
solved. 


PRESERVING  THE  FAMILY 

ONLY  yesterday  the  problem  appeared  to 
be  solving  itself,  at  least  in  the  Western 
world,  because  the  two-child  family  was  for  a 
time  the  norm.  In  due  course— as  standards  of 
living  rose  throughout  the  world— we  supposed 
the  small  family  might  become  universal  and  the 
population  would  then  be  stabilized  without  the 
need  for  any  drastic  action. 

This  is  the  optimistic,  "It'll  be  all  right  on  the 


night,"  view  of  the  problem.  But  even  if  it  were 
correct,  one  cannot  help  thinking  that  the  uni- 
versal two-child  family  may,  alter  all,  be  only  a 
short-term  solution. 

Quite  apart  from  the  problems  which  it  im- 
poses on  all  the  would-be  and  must-not-be  par- 
ents (and  please  note  that  I  am  not  in  the  least 
concerned  with  the  actual  method  of  limitation, 
whether  it  be  prayer  or  pills)  there  are  good 
grounds  for  thinking  that  the  optimum  number 
of  children  per  family  is  much  higher  than  the 
basic  two.  Perhaps  I  am  biased,  having  three 
siblings,  but  I  have  a  strong  feeling  that  the 
happiest  families— other  things  being  equal— are 
those  with  four,  five,  or  even  more  children. 
And  how  many  of  the  divorces  and  nervous 
breakdowns  in  the  modern  world  are  due  to  a 
refusal  to  face  this  fact? 

But  large  families  would  be  possible  in  the 
future  only  if  the  majority  of  people  had  no 
children  at  all— if,  in  fact,  reproduction  became 
the  business  of  as  little  as  a  quarter  or  even  a 
tenth  of  the  human  race.  This  would  imply  a 
society  in  which  parenthood  would  become  the 
exclusive  function  of  a  specially  trained  and 
selected  elite— though  how  that  selection  should 
be  made  is  not  a  problem  that  many  of  us  would 
care  to  solve. 

This  state  of  affairs,  by  whatever  mechanism 
society  instituted  and  imposed  it,  would  com- 
plete the  separation  between  sex  and  reproduc- 
tion which  has  now  been  in  progress  for  certainly 
the  last  hundred  years.  It  might  lead  to  a  world 
in  which  married  couples  were  a  cherished  and 
respected  (but  not  necessarily  envied)  minority 
like  doctors,  schoolmasters,  or  ministers.  In 
some  ways  such  a  culture  would  be  less  alien  to 
us  than  many  that  have  existed  in  the  past— 
those,  for  instance,  that  sacrificed  ten  thousand 
human  beings  to  their  gods  at  a  single  ceremony, 
or  launched  their  war  canoes  over  the  bodies  of 
their  prisoners. 

And  what  sort  of  emotional  lives  would  the 
childless— but  not  necessarily  sexless— majority  of 
the  human  race  experience  in  the  society  which 
may  be  inevitable  a  few  centuries  from  now?  It 
is  obvious  that  today's  mores  will  be  wholly  in- 
appropriate to  such  an  age,  but  it  is  by  no  means 
obvious  what  will  replace  them.  Sex  is  so  funda- 
mental a  part  of  mankind's  emotional  and  even 
intellectual  make-up  that  its  complete  abolition, 
even  if  it  proved  to  be  possible,  might  result 
in  a  racial  disaster  greater  than  the  one  it  was 
designed  to  avoid. 

This  line  of  thought  inevitably  leads  us,  if  we 
are  honest,  to  the  only  hypothetical  future  of  all 


RETURN     OF     THE     NATIVE 


57 


those  I  have  described  which  would  find  any 
supporters  today  (and  some  quite  enthusiastic 
ones,  at  that).  Perhaps  Nature  knew  exactly 
what  she  was  doing  when  she  made  mankind 
sexually  polymorphous;  the  time  may  yet  come 
when  homosexuality  is  practically  compulsory, 
and  not  merely  fashionable.  It  will  indeed  be 
a  piquant  paradox  if— in  the  long  run  and  taking 
the  survival  of  humanity  as  a  whole  as  our 
criterion— this  controversial  instinct  turns  out  to 
have  a  greater  survival  value  than  the  urge  to 
reproduce. 

Are  there  any  alternatives  to  the  depressing 
array  of  futures  I  have  lined  up?  I  do  not  think 


so;  I  have  looked  hard  enough  for  them.  It  may 
be,  of  course,  that  the  matter  is  already  settled 
and  that  there  is  nothing  to  worry  about;  per- 
haps we  have  already  shot  enough  Strontium  90 
and  assorted  isotopes  into  the  atmosphere  to 
control  our  fertility  during  the  remainder  of  our 
short  stay  here  on  Earth.  But  if  not,  then  one  of 
the  societies  I  have  sketched  is  bound,  sooner  or 
later,  to  be  brought  about  and  to  become  the 
"natural"  way  of  life  for  mankind  over  a  period 
of  time  which  may  far  exceed  the  entire  duration 
of  its  existence  so  far. 

And  if  you  do  not  like  the  prospect,  I'm  very 
glad  to  hear  it.  /  don't  like  it,  either. 


RETURN   OF   THE   NATIVE   by   James   Rorty 

(Donegal,  April  1957) 

this  is  the  Gaeltacht  where  they  fled— 
O'Donnell  beaten  and  MacRorty  dead— 
When  the  long  trumpets  of  the  Gael 
Blew,  and  were  silent  on  the  field  of  Ballintra. 

Rock,  and  bog  water  and  the  yellow  whins 

Stealing  the  pasture.   Shadows  darken  at  noon  upon  a  land 

Where  past  is  more  than  present.   Yesterday 

The  Red  Branch  feasted  and  fought  where  now 

Beneath  the  dolmen's  poised  rocks  a  starveling  cow 

Suckles  her  calf.    On  this  forsaken  strand 

Columcille  planted  his  staff  that  has  not  ceased  to  grow. 

This  is  the  town  and  this  the  square; 
Here  blind  O'Rahilly  fiddled  and  sang 
Where  now  the  empty  houses  stare 
Eyeless  upon  the  sea.   What  evil  spell 
Unmans  the  sons  of  Tir  Chonaill 
Whose  fathers  fought  with  Pearse  and  ran 
With  Dev  and  turned  to  fight  again? 

Pale,  prudent  youths  who  dream 

Safe  dreams  or  none;  who  let 

The  beauty  of  their  women  fade, 

The  thatch  unmended  and  the  word  unsaid, 

The  field  untended  and  the  child  unmade. 

This  is  the  Gaeltacht  where  the  past 

Is  more  than  present;  where  the  son  is  taught 

A  tongue  his  father  has  forgot; 

Where  days  are  short  and  twilight  soon 

Gathers  the  ghosts  of  castle  and  ruin, 

And  travelers  seeking  for  ancestral  graves 

Are  wakened  by  a  voice  that  raves 

Of  ancient,  unforgotten  wrong. 


George  W.  Gray 


STARS   FORMING, 

BURNING,   AND   DYING 

New  Discoveries  About  the  Cosmos,  Part  II 


Within  the  past  decade  new  instruments  for 
looking  into  millions  of  lightyears  of  space— as 
well  as  experimental  studies  of  atoms  in  the 
laboratory— have  enabled  astronomers  to  read  the 
history  of  stellar  creation  and  evolution  in  a 
radically  new  way.  Last  month  Mr.  Gray  jot  used 
on  recent  explorations  of  the  Andromeda  Spiral 
Nebula.  He  turns  now  to  evidence  bearing  on 
the  fate  of  the  Sun  and  of  our  solar  system. 

TH  E  constellation  Orion,  mighty  hunter 
of  the  winter  sky,  stakes  out  a  region  of 
the  Milky  Way  where,  astronomers  believe,  stars 
are  being  born.  There  are  many  other  areas  in 
which  creation  is  still  at  work,  but  Orion  is 
familiar  and  presents  to  view  all  the  physical 
features  that  participate  in  stellar  evolution.  Its 
block  of  several  million  cubic  lightyears  of 
space  is  a  convenient  showcase  of  stars  forming, 
burning,  and  dying. 

A  row  of  three  blue  supergiants  studs  the  belt 
of  the  mighty  hunter,  and  others  are  visible  in 
his  left  shoulder,  his  head,  and  his  knee.  All  are 
young  stars,  superlatively  hot  and  intrinsically 
very  luminous.  Rigel,  in  the  left  foot  of  Orion, 
is  further  advanced  in  its  evolution  than  the 
belt  stars,  and  still  more  advanced  is  the  red 
Betelgeuse  in  the  right  armpit,  actually  the 
brightest  member  of  the  constellation.  Betel- 
geuse's  brilliance,  however,  is  due  entirely  to  its 
size.  Although  the  star's  temperature  is  so  low 
that  it  produces  predominantly  red  light,  its 
surface  area  is  so  enormous  that  the  Sun  would 
need  to  be  multiplied  16,000  times  to  equal  it 
in   magnitude.    Betelgeuse   is  well   along   in   its 


evolution   and   already   declining  into   old   age. 

Below  Orion's  belt  hangs  his  sword,  and 
among  its  stars  is  a  misty  object  which  the  tele- 
scope shows  to  be  a  luminous  cloud.  This  Great 
Nebula  in  Orion  is  not  a  spiral  like  the  An- 
dromeda Nebula,  not  a  system  of  stars  at  all, 
but  a  true  gas  cloud.  There  are  several  other 
nebulae  in  Orion— one  opaque  with  dust  known 
as  the  Horsehead  from  its  shape,  another  an 
immense  hovering  cloud  known  as  Barnard's 
Luminous  Arc  which  seems  to  encircle  the  entire 
constellation.  In  and  near  these  clouds  are 
bright  stars,  both  single  and  in  clusters.  In 
1956  T.  K.  Menon  completed  a  survey  of  the 
Orion  region  with  the  25-foot  radio  telescope  of 
the  Harvard  College  Observatory,  and  he  reports 
that  all  these  features  (nebulae,  clusters,  and 
individual  stars)  appear  to  be  imbedded  in  a 
gigantic  clump  of  hydrogen— he  calls  it  a  "bowl 
of  neutral  hydrogen  jelly"— with  a  mass  equal 
to  that  of  60  to  100  thousand  Suns.  The  hydro- 
gen "bowl"  is  in  slow  rotation  and  apparently 
expanding. 

Another  student  of  Orion  is  Malcolm  P.  Save- 
doff  at  the  University  of  Rochester.  Analyzing 
Menon's  data  and  applying  hydrodynamical 
principles,  Savedoff  concludes  that  about  two 
million  years  ago  a  very  massive  star  formed  in 
the  center  of  the  Orion  region.  It  was  so  hot  that 
it  burned  up  within  1.8  million  years.  But  dur- 
ing that  brief  lifetime  the  flood  of  radiation 
from  this  supergiant  so  heated  and  ionized  the 
layers  of  the  hydrogen  cloud  immediately  sur- 
rounding the  star  that  the  gas  expanded 
vehemently.  This  sudden  expansion  squeezed 
outer  layers  with  such  violence  that  several  score 


to 
la 
';, 
|| 


STARS     FORMING,     BURNING,     AND     DYING 


59 


ars  condensed  out  of  the  compressed  gas.  They 
re  so  young  that  we  may  call  them  baby  stars, 
ad  Barnard's  Luminous  Arc  is  the  visible  front 
f  that  still  expanding  ring  of  hydrogen. 

THE     BIRTH     OF     A     STAR 

'  '  AS  pressure  generated  by  the  intense 
<^Sf  radiation  of  the  parent  star  thus  accounts 
>r  the  origin  of  this  second  generation  of  Orion 
ars— but  what  caused  the  parent  star  to  form 
i  the  first  place?  In  other  words,  how  does  a 
iose  cloud  of  hydrogen,  or  of  intermingled  gas 
id  dust,  produce  a  star?  I  asked  that  question 
:  Allan  R.   Sandage,   one   of  the   astronomers 

Mount  Wilson  and  Palomar  who  has  special- 
ed  in  the  study  of  stellar  evolution. 
"Gravitation,"  he  answered,   "is  the  primary 
arting  force." 

This  universal  property  of  matter,  which  op- 
ates  between  atoms  as  well  as  between  planets 
id  stars,  causes  the  particles  of  gas  and  dust  to 
owd  closer  together.  When  a  cloud  of  such 
aterial  reaches  a  certain  density,  a  sizable  seg- 
ent  becomes  gravitationally  unstable.  It  begins 
i  collapse  under  its  own  weight.  After  the 
jgregate  has  shrunk  to  a  billion  billionth  of 
»  original  volume,  the  temperature  is  so  high 
id  the  density  so  great  that  the  hydrogen  atoms 
;gin  to  bump  one  another. 
"Head-on  collisions  lead  to  nuclear  reactions 
tnilar  to  those  which  occur  in  a  hydrogen 
imb,"  Sandage  explained.  "But  there  is  no 
;plosion  because  a  new  star  has  the  unfailing 
pacity  to  release  its  energy  gradually." 
With  the  beginning  of  nuclear  reactions,  con- 
action  ceases  and  the  segment  of  cloud  becomes 
star— a  stable  star.  "This  is  one  of  Nature's 
ost  magnificent  inventions,"  the  astronomer 
ent  on.  "The  amount  of  matter  in  a  stable 
ar,  enormous  though  it  be,  is  in  equilibrium 

every  point.    The  star  arranges  itself  so  that 

avitation,  tending  to  pull  the  material  toward 

e  center,   exactly   balances    the   gas    pressure, 

jhich  tends  to  push  it  outward.   From  the  laws 

physics  we  know  that  the  pressure  is  deter- 
ined  by  the  temperature,  and  the  gravitational 
ill  by  the  total  mass.  The  larger  the  mass,  the 
jgher  the  temperature  must  be  to  match  the 
!  creased  gravitational  pull." 

Mass  not   only  determines   temperature,   but 

rough  its  influence  on  temperature  determines 

le  rate  of  the  nuclear  reactions  and  therefore 

|e  brightness.    The  star's  size,  or  radius,  is  an 

Ifect  of  the  distribution  of  gas  pressure,   and 

is  in  turn  is  fixed  by  its  mass  and  temperature. 


All  the  properties  thus  are  interrelated,  and  if 
you  know  two  of  them  you  can  calculate  the 
others. 

There  are  two  properties  that  can  be  measured 
in  every  star  within  reach  of  our  spectroscopes. 
They  are  brightness  (absolute  magnitude)  and 
color  (surface  temperature).  About  50  years  ago 
Einar  Hertzsprung  at  the  Potsdam  Observatory 
devised  the  method  of  plotting  stars  on  a  chart 
according  to  their  absolute  brightness  and  color. 
Henry  Norris  Russell  at  Princeton  took  up  the 
scheme  and  extended  it  to  thousands  of  Milky 
Way  stars.  He  found  that  most  of  them  fell 
along  a  nearly  straight  line  reaching  from  blue 
stars  of  high  luminosity  to  faint  red  stars.  This 
curve  was  named  "the  main  sequence." 

The  Hertzsprung-Russell  diagram  occupies 
a  key  role  in  the  current  study  of  stellar  origin 
and  development.  Indeed,  it  was  by  plotting  his 
new-found  stars  on  such  a  diagram  that  Walter 
Baade  discovered  the  two  populations,  as  I 
reported  in  last  month's  article.  Astronomers 
have  found  that  the  main  sequence  represents 
the  nursery  and  early  home  of  stars.  For  when 
a  new  orb  is  born,  the  relation  of  its  color  to  its 
magnitude  is  such  that  the  star  takes  a  position 
somewhere  on  the  main-sequence  curve— and 
there  it  spends  its  childhood.  The  unfailing  rule 
for  main-sequence  stars  is  that  the  higher  the 
surface  temperature,  the  brighter  the  star. 

But  when  a  star  has  consumed  all  the  hydro- 
gen in  the  central  10  per  cent  of  its  mass,  the 
picture  changes.  The  evolutionary  consequences 
of  this  degree  of  fuel-exhaustion  were  worked 
out  by  another  Princeton  astronomer,  Martin 
Schwarzschild.  He  and  his  research  group  found 
that  internal  conditions  now  force  the  star  to 
expand.  It  becomes  hotter  and  denser  in  the 
center,  but  as  it  swells  to  larger  volume  the 
surface  cools  and  the  color  changes.  A  blue  star 
will  become  white,  and  then,  as  it  continues  to 
cool,  yellow,  orange,  and  red.  However,  inas- 
much as  the  expansion  distends  its  surface,  the 
star  will  wax  brighter  since  the  enlargement 
gives  it  more  area  from  which  to  radiate  light. 
Thus  the  old  relationship  of  decreased  lumi- 
nosity with  lower  surface  temperature  no  longer 
holds,  for  the  star  with  more  than  a  10  per  cent 
hydrogen  core  grows  brighter  with  diminished 
temperature.  Consequently,  it  can  no  longer  be 
plotted  on  the  main  sequence. 

In  the  diagram  on  page  60  the  scale  of  magni- 
tude is  indicated  vertically,  in  terms  of  the 
Sun's  brightness;  the  color  scale  is  graded  hori- 
zontally in  thousands  of  degrees  of  temperature. 
(Our  drawing  is  schematic;   actually   the  main 


60 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


1 


sequence  is  slightly  curved,  in  the  form  of  ;i 
stretched  S.)  In  a  complete  Hertzsprung-Russell 
diagram  the  main  sequence  would  be  crowded 
with  tens  of  thousands  <>l  stars  (with  most  of 
them  below  the  Sun),  and  there  would  be  other 
thousands  oft  this  curve  in  various  positions 
both  to  the  right  and  the  left.  But  the  nine  stars 
plotted  here  are  a  sufficient  sampling  to  make 
clear  the  relationships. 

Note  the  main-sequence  stars.  Kruger  60,  a 
diminutive  red  dwarf,  has  a  surface  tempera- 
ture of  only  2,500°,  less  than  half  the  Sun's,  and, 
correspondingly,  its  brightness  is  little  more 
than  a  thousandth  the  solar  magnitude.  Sirius, 
the  brilliant  Dog  Star,  has  a  surface  temperature 
nearly  double  that  of  the  Sun  and  is  21  times 
brighter.  And  so  with  Vega,  the  glowing  white 
orb  of  the  Lyre,  and  10  Lacertae,  a  blue  super- 
giant  of  the  constellation  Lizard  which  is  so  dis- 
tant that  it  can  barely  be  seen— each  is  still 
hotter  and  brighter.  Vega  equals  50  Suns  in 
luminosity,  10  Lacertae  60,000  Suns— and,  as  the 
diagram  shows,  Vega  has  a  temperature  of  more 
than  12,000°,  10  Lacertae  30,000°. 

Axturus  and  Betelgeuse  do  not  fit  into  this 
pattern,  however,  for  while  they  are  brighter 
than  the  Sun  they  are  not  hotter.  There  was  a 
time,  say  the  astrophysicists,  when  both  were  on 
the  main  sequence.  But  eventually  each  reached 
the  stage  at  which  it  had  consumed  all  the 
hydrogen  in  the  central  10  per  cent  of  its  mass, 
and  then  it  began  to  expand.  Both  are  now  red 
giants,  and  yet  in  surface  temperature  they  are 
in  a  class  with  the  dwarf  Kruger  60. 

THE     WHITE     DWARFS 

ANOTHER  star  in  our  diagram,  also 
off  the  main  sequence,  shows  its  incon- 
sistency in  the  opposite  direction— for  it  is  both 
hotter  and  fainter  than  the  Sun.  This  is  the 
Companion  of  Sirius  (visible  only  through  a 
powerful  telescope)  which  revolves  around  the 
Dog  Star.  Although  its  surface  temperature  is 
8,000°,  it  gives  less  than  a  hundredth  as  much 
light  as  the  Sun— therefore  its  area  must  be  small. 
Measurement  shows  the  Companion  to  be  about 
the  size  of  the  Earth.  Only  some  200  such  stars 
have  been  found.  They  are  called  white  dwarfs, 
and  are  examples  of  a  star's  old  age  when  it  has 
shrunken  to  a  mass  of  collapsed  atoms  so  packed 
that  a  handful  of  the  stellar  core  would  weigh 
several  hundred  tons. 

White  dwarfs  are  so  small  that  the  most 
distant  yet  recognized  is  only  650  lightyears 
away.   Jesse  L.  Greenstein,  an  astronomer  of  the 


Representative  Stars 

Plotted   by  Color  and  Magnitude 

Mount  Wilson  and  Palomar  staff  who  spe- 
cializes in  spectroscopy,  has  studied  the  compo- 
sition of  these  peculiar  stars  and  within  the  last 
five  years  has  discovered  20  white  dwarfs  with 
the  200-inch  telescope. 

"It  is  reasonable  to  believe,"  he  said,  "that 
billions  of  these  collapsed  stars  are  adrift  in 
space.  They  will  continue  to  cool,  slowly  becom- 
ing degenerate  red  dwarfs,  and  finally  black 
dwarfs.  But  I  don't  think  there  are  any  black 
dwarfs  yet,"  he  added,  "because  there  hasn't 
been  time  enough.  We  calculate  that  for  a  white 
dwarf  like  the  Companion  to  cool  down  to  black 
dwarfdom  will  take  8,000  million  years,  and  for 
an  evolving  star  to  get  from  the  main  sequence 
to  the  white-dwarf  stage  requires  an  estimated 
5,000  million— a  total  of   13,000  million  years." 

It  is  mass  that  determines  where  a  star  will) 
be  on  the  main  sequence,  for  the  greater  thei 
amount  of  matter  with  which  a  new-born  star 
is  endowed,  the  higher  will  be  its  gravitational 
energy  and  central  temperature  and,  in  conse- 
quence, the  higher  will  be  its  surface  temperai 
ture  and  brightness. 

"We  can  tell  from  a  star's  surface  tempera- 
ture and  luminosity  the  rate  at  which  it  is  burn- 
ing hydrogen,"  Greenstein  went  on.  "Rigel,  foi 
example,  is  consuming  hydrogen  at  such  a  pace 
that  it  cannot  have  been  operating  for  more  than 
40  or  50  million  years.  Rigel  has  moved  off  thd 
main  sequence  and  is  probably  beginning  tc 
expand  into  a  red  supergiant.  Vega  and  Siriusj 
are  not  such  gluttons  for  fuel,  but  they  outdc 
the  Sun,  and  we  know  that  their  ages  can  be| 
only  a  tew  hundreds  of  millions  of  years,  pos 
sibly   1,000  million.    But  the  Sun  consumes  fuel 


STARS     FORMING,     BURNING,     AND     DYING 


61 


so  slowly  that  it  has  taken  about  5,000  million 
years  to  reach  its  present  state,  and  another  5,000 
million  must  pass  before  it  has  consumed  all 
the  hydrogen  in  the  central  10  per  cent  of  its 
mass.  For  lesser  stars,  the  rate  of  burning  is  even 
slower.  It  will  be  more  than  500,000  million 
years  before  Kruger  60  is  ready  to  expand  and 
evolve." 

Considerations  such  as  these  have  led  astron- 
omers to  assign  the  origin  of  the  existing  white 
dwarfs  to  masses  above  that  of  the  Sun.  For 
smaller  stars  there  has  not  been  time  enough. 

Here,  then,  are  the  extremes  of  stellar  evolu- 
tion: the  glowing  nebulae  where  stars  are  born, 
and  the  collapsed  white  dwarfs  which  mark 
stellar  senility  and  approaching  death.  Stars  in 
intermediate  states  are  to  be  seen  in  the  vast 
panorama  of  the  Milky  Way,  and  it  is  because 
of  this  that  we  can  study  evolution  at  all  in  our 
brief  second  of  eternity.  The  astrophysicists 
have  traced  the  life  histories  of  stars  from  the 
"old  folks  home"  (left  of  the  main  sequence) 
back  to  the  "nursery."  And  beyond  that?  Yes, 
the  evolutionists  have  some  ideas  on  the  origin 
of  the  pre-star  material  and  of  the  elements 
which  compose  it. 


ORIGIN     OF     THE     ELEMENTS 

TH  E  starting  element  is  hydrogen,  or  neu- 
trons  which  decay   into   protons   and  be- 
come hydrogen.    On   this   the   cosmologists   are 
lgreed.   The  problem  is  to  account  for  the  ele- 
nents  heavier  than  hydrogen.  Actually,  they  are 
ery  sparse.    On  the  average,  of  every  million 
toms  in  the  Universe  taken  at  random,  about 
30,000  are  hydrogen  atoms,  a  little  over  60,000 
re  helium,  and  the  remainder  of  less  than  10,000 
toms  account  for  all  the  other  chemical  species 
-carbon,    oxygen,    iron,    and    the    rest    up    to 
ranium  and  the  heavier  radioactive  metals. 
!  At  least  four  theories  have  been  advanced  to 
xplain  the  occurrence  of  the  elements  in  these 
elative  abundances,  but  I  should  like  to  confine 
Ws  discussion   to   a   hypothesis   which   pictures 
'ie  stars  themselves  as  the  atom-builders.   It  is  a 
peculation  that  has  been  slowly  developing  and 
athering  supporting  evidence  for  more  than  a 
ecade.    Its   early   exponents   were    a   group    at 
ie    University    of    Cambridge    in    which    Fred 
loyle  was  the  leading  spirit.* 
Hoyle    has    been    a    frequent    visitor    to    the 
nited  States,  and  has  spent  several  periods  of 

*  Hoyle's  book,   The  Nature  of  the   Universe,  was 
ublished  in  Harper's,  December  1950-ApriI  1951. 


research  in  collaboration  with  investigators  at 
Pasadena  and  other  American  centers.  Con- 
tributions to  the  theory  have  been  made  by 
William  A.  Fowler  of  Caltech,  Greenstein  of 
Mount  Wilson  and  Palomar,  Schwarzschild  of 
Princeton,  E.  E.  Salpeter  of  Cornell,  A.  G.  W. 
Cameron  of  Atomic  Energy  of  Canada,  Ltd. 
(Chalk  River),  and  G.  R.  and  Margaret  Bur- 
bidge  of  the  Cavendish  Laboratory,  Cambridge. 
The  Burbidges,  a  husband  and  wife  team,  were 
in  residence  in  Pasadena  for  the  last  two  years, 
working  in  close  association  with  the  local  group. 

ATOM-BUILDING     IN     STARS 

TH  E  gist  of  the  new  theory  is  that  the 
atoms  of  all  elements  heavier  than  hydro- 
gen are  formed  in  the  hot  interior  of  stars,  the 
stellar  hydrogen  providing  both  the  fuel  and 
the  building  blocks  for  the  manufacture.  If  you 
ask  where  the  hydrogen  came  from  Hoyle 
answers  that  it  is  spontaneously  created  in  inter- 
stellar space:  "it  just  appears"  and  is  continually 
appearing.  But  the  theory  of  continuous  crea- 
tion of  hydrogen  is  another  story,  so  let  us  start 
with  a  postulate.  Let  us  assume  a  cold,  dilute, 
but  turbulent  gas  composed  of  hydrogen  atoms, 
or  of  neutrons  that  decay  into  protons  and 
electrons  to  form  hydrogen.  The  question  then 
becomes,  as  William  A.  Fowler  phrased  it, 
"Given  protons  and  neutrons,  when,  where,  and 
how  have  the  heavier  elements  been  synthesized?" 

The  first  stars  were  born  of  the  primordial 
hydrogen,  forming  according  to  the  process  de- 
scribed earlier  in  this  article.  These  stars,  which 
we  now  see  as  red  giants  and  lesser  members  of 
Population  II,  contained  nothing  but  hydrogen 
in  the  beginning.  But  to  live  a  star  must  burn, 
and  the  product  of  this  burning  is  helium.  Grad- 
ually a  core  of  helium  accumulates  in  its  center 
and,  although  both  are  gases,  there  is  no  mixing. 
The  helium  stays  inside  and  the  hydrogen  burns 
around  it  in  an  encircling  layer. 

As  the  core  grows,  it  begins  to  shrink  under 
its  own  weight  and  that  of  the  overlying  material. 
At  this  stage  the  star  may  blow  off  some  of  its 
surface,  flaring  up  to  heightened  brilliance  in 
the  kind  of  outburst  known  as  a  nova.  Or  the 
star  may  leak  some  of  its  hydrogen  and  newly- 
formed  helium  into  space.  But  these  adjustments 
do  not  become  catastrophic  so  long  as  the  helium 
core  does  not  grow  overlarge— specifically,  so 
long  as  it  does  not  reach  a  mass  greater  than 
1.44  times  the  Sun's  total  mass.  For  all  stars  with 
helium  cores  below  this  limit  the  life  history  is 
fairly   uneventful   and   the  star  will  reach  old 


62 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


age  as  a  slowly  cooling  dwarf.  But  it  the  star  is 
so  large  that  the  growing  core  exceeds  this 
critical  mass,  then  look  for  spectacular  fireworks. 

This  critical  mass  is  known  as  the  "Chand- 
rasekhar  limit"  from  the  name  of  its  discoverer, 
Subrahmanyan  Chandrasekhar,  professor  of 
astrophysics  at  the  University  of  Chicago.  Chand- 
rasekhar calculated  that  a  star  with  a  helium 
core  heavier  than  1.44  times  the  Sun's  mass 
would  necessarily  have  to  slough  off  the  extra 
material  and  get  itself  below  the  critical  limit 
to  become  a  stable  white  dwarf.  His  computa- 
tions indicated  that  this  might  involve  stupen- 
dous pressures  and  temperatures  and  wreck  the 
precariously  maintained  stability  of  the  star. 

Occurrences  are  on  record  in  which  a  star 
suddenly  shines  with  the  brightness  of  millions 
of  Suns.  In  1885  such  a  luminary  appeared  in 
the  Andromeda  Galaxy  and  attained  a  brilliance 
about  a  tenth  that  of  the  entire  system  of  sev- 
eral hundred  million  stars.  In  1937  one  was  seen 
in  the  spiral  known  as  IC  4182,  and  it  outshone 
all  the  other  stars  of  that  galaxy.  These  objects 
are  thousands  of  times  more  luminous  than 
novae,  and  are  called  supernovae.  Twenty  to 
thirty  novae  are  sighted  annually  in  the  Milky 
Way,  but  throughout  recorded  history  only 
three  supernovae  have  been  reported  as  appear- 
ing in  our  galaxy:  one  in  the  constellation 
Taurus  in  the  year  1054  a.l>.,  another  in  Cas- 
siopeia in  1572,  and  the  third  in  Ophiuchus  in 
the  year  1604. 


"Worse  comes  to  worse,  let  us  say,  and  the  earth 
is  blown  off  its  axis.   All  right,  by 
simply  giving  this  knob  a  little  turn  .  .  ." 


Observations  of  the  explosion  in  Taurus  are 
recorded  in  ancient  Chinese  and  Japanese 
annals.  Today  there  is  a  bright  nebula  at  the 
very  point  in  Taurus  where  the  Oriental 
astronomers  reported  their  "wonderful  star"  of 
July  1051,  and  this  luminous  patch,  which  mod- 
ern astronomers  have  named  the  Crab  Nebula 
from  its  shape,  has  been  identified  as  the  remains 
ol  that  nine-cehturies-old  supernova.  Years  ago 
John  C.  Duncan  made  a  detailed  study  ol  the 
Cral)  Nebula  and  found  it  to  be  a  cloud  of  gas 
surrounding  a  faint  central  star,  apparently  the 
whitening  dwarf  of  the  giant  that  exploded. 

How  can  such  titanic  outbursts  occur?  Sup- 
pose we  take  Sirius,  which  has  an  over-all  mass 
about  three  times  that  of  the  Sun,  and  follow 
the  story  of  what  can  happen  in  its  future. 
Sirius  is  still  a  stable  star  on  the  main  sequence, 
but  eventually  its  growing  core  of  helium  will 
find  the  crushing  weight  above  it  insupportable 
and  will  raise  its  central  temperature  from  SO 
million  degrees  to  130  million.  At  that  heat  the 
helium  will  begin  to  burn,  producing  carbon, 
oxygen,  and  neon,  and  adding  them  to  the  core. 
As  the  core  continues  to  grow  denser,  slowly 
over  a  period  measured  in  millions  of  years,  the 
internal  temperature  waxes  hotter.  At  600  mil- 
lion degrees  the  neon  begins  to  burn,  producing 
magnesium.  At  1,500  million  degrees  oxygen 
reactions  begin,  with  the  production  of  alumi- 
num, silicon,  phosphorus,  sulfur,  chlorine,  argon, 
and  potassium,  and  adding  these  to  the  core.. 
The  radiation  is  now  of  the 
penetrating  kind  known  as 
gamma  rays.  They  knock  pro- 
tons out  of  the  nuclei  of 
newly-forged  atoms,  terrifi- 
cally mangling  them.  The 
eventual  result,  however,  is 
not  destruction.  For  when  the 
temperature  reaches  about 
2,000  million  degrees  the  frag- 
ments fuse  to  form  heavier 
atoms— titanium,  vanadium, 
chromium,  manganese,  iron, 
cobalt,  nickel,  and  zinc. 

The  star  is  now  radiating 
energy  so  fast  that  further 
contraction  is  necessary  to 
compensate,  ft  shrinks  more 
rapidly,  and  at  about  5,000 
million  degrees  the  atoms  of 
the  iron  group  break  under 
the  gamma-ray  bombardment 
and  become  helium.  Thus, 
suddenly,  a  sizable  proportion 


STARS     FORMING,     BURNING,     AND     DYING 


65 


E  the  core  changes  from  metals   to   this  light 
is.    The  result  is  utter  collapse.    In  about  a 
:cond,  says  Hoyle,   the  star  falls   in  on   itself, 
ut  quickly,  as  a  consequence  of  the  resultant 
eating,   the   unburned   hydrogen   of   the   outer 
yer  provides  fuel  for  a  tremendous  increment 
.:  energy,  and  the  star  explodes.  The  explosion, 
ke    the    implosion,    is    instantaneous,    and    its 
feet  is  to  fling  into  space  all  the  surface  layers 
id  outer  shells  of  the  core  until   the  central 
lass  is  reduced  to  Chandrasekhar's  limit. 
Such  appears  to  be  the  mechanism  of  a  super- 
wa.   The  elements  of  all  the  various  chemical 
>ecies  that  were  cooked  in  the  star  are  thrown 
at  by  the  explosion.    The  atoms  thus  ejected 
;come  part  of  the  interstellar  cloud.  They  add 
etals  and  other  heavier  elements  to  the  abun- 
int  hydrogen,  some  of  the   atoms   and  mole- 
des  cling  together  to  form  dust  particles,  and 
new  stars  arise  in  these  clouds  they  inevitably 
corporate  debris  of  the  supernovae.    This  ex- 
ains  why  young  stars  contain  more  metal  than 
d  stars.    The  very  oldest  were  born  of  pure 
I'drogen,  before  supernovae  began  to  operate, 
he  young  stars  are  beneficiaries  of  the  atom- 
oking  processes  of  exploded  stars.    Greenstein 
ts  found  red  dwarfs  of  Population   II   which 
ntain    less    than   one    twentieth   of   the   Sun's 
ercentage  of  iron,  calcium,  and  other  metals, 
he  Sun  appears  to  be  younger  and  is  rated  as  a 
ir  of  the  third  generation  of  Population  I. 
But  supernovae  are  not  the  only  atom-builders 
i>y  no  means.  All  stars  are  making  helium,  and 
ere  is  good  evidence  that  the  red  giants   (such 
Arcturus  and  Betelgeuse)  make  carbon  and 
me  heavier  elements.    "In  the  red  giants  the 
lild-up  is  a  slow  process,   taking  from   100  to 
0,000  years,"  said  Fowler,  "and  in  the  super- 
vae  it  is  quick,   100  to   1,000  seconds."    The 
suits  are  quite  different  and  the  astro-physicist 
n  now   tell  pretty  well  which  elements  were 
ide  in  the  red  giants   (for  example,  strontium, 
rium,   zirconium,   barium,   and   the   recently- 
covered    technetium),    which    in    supernovae 
velopes    (tellurium,  xenon,  uranium,  and  all 
e  other  radioactive  elements),  and  which  in  the 
res  of  supernovae    (iron,  cobalt,  nickel). 

EXPERIMENTAL       EVIDENCE 

rH  E  sequence  of  reactions  by  which  atoms 
are  cooked  in  stars  was  worked  out  theo- 
ically,  but  the  laboratories  of  nuclear  physics 
steadily  accumulating  a  body  of  supporting 
dence.  For  example,  the  chain  of  theoretical 
ctions    calls    for    an     isotope    of    beryllium 


weighing  8,  but  only  beryllium9  was  known  to 
exist.  In  laboratory  experiments— both  at  Los 
Alamos  and  at  Caltech— the  isotope  of  atomic- 
weight  8  has  been  found,  but  in  less  than  a 
billionth  of  a  second  it  splits  into  two  helium 
nuclei.  More  recently  physicists  at  Caltech  have 
been  able  to  demonstrate  that  in  its  fleeting  flash 
of  existence  the  beryllium8  nucleus  can  capture 
a  helium  nucleus  to  produce  a  stable  nucleus  of 
the  familiar  carbon12— thus  demonstrating  in  a 
laboratory  accelerator  the  process  by  which  car- 
bon is  manufactured  in  stars. 

Supernovae  show  a  maximum  brilliance  after 
which  they  begin  to  decline,  and  in  certain  of 
these  exploding  stars  it  has  been  observed  that 
the  brightness  progressively  fades  by  one-half 
every  55  days.  A  bit  of  circumstantial  evidence 
which  seems  to  bear  on  this  rate  of  decline 
turned  up  in  1952  when  the  U.  S.  exploded  its 
first  hydrogen  bomb.  Among  the  fallout  products 
was  a  hitherto  unknown  isotope  of  the  heavy 
metal  californium,  an  element  which  the  bomb 
transmuted  from  its  uranium  in  the  terrific  heat 
of  the  explosion.  The  isotope  is  highly  radio- 
active, and  the  interesting  fact  is  that  in  just 
55  days  it  decays  to  half  its  strength. 

"We  think,"  said  Fowler,  "that  this  isotope 
of  californium  is  produced  in  supernovae  explo- 
sions. Its  especially  energetic  decay  with  a  con- 
veniently observable  half-life  makes  its  presence 
stand  out.  Presumably  uranium  itself  and  other 
heavy  metals  are  produced  in  a  similar  manner." 

Two  isotopes  of  uranium  are  being  examined 
in  this  search  into  the  past.  U238,  with  a  half- 
life  of  4,500  million  years,  is  140  times  more 
abundant  in  the  Earth  than  U235,  which  has  a 
half-life  of  700  million  years.  It  is  reasonable  to 
assume  that  originally  they  were  made  in  approx- 
imately equal  amounts  in  supernovae  explo- 
sions. On  this  basis  Fowler  calculates  from  their 
decay  rates  and  present  ratio  of  abundance  to 
one  another  that  the  age  of  the  elements  in  the 
Sun  is  somewhat  greater  than  the  half-life  of 
uranium238— that  is,  6,000  to  7,000  million  years. 
The  Milky  Way  may  be  older,  its  beginning 
dating  back  perhaps  as  much  as  8,000  million 
years— and  the  physicist  points  to  another  atomic 
clock  not  yet  used  in  these  studies,  the  isotope 
of  thorium  known  as  Th232.  This  radioactive 
metal  has  a  half-life  of  14,000  million  years,  and 
Fowler  and  his  crew  of  atomic  archaeologists  are 
now  on  the  lookout  for  some  aspect  of  the  Uni- 
verse "which  will  be  appropriately  measured  by 
this  14,000-million-year  hourglass." 

The  study  of  nuclear  processes  in  stars  thus 
has   brought   us   to   the  possibility   of   a  greatly 


64 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


increased  time  scale.  The  Sun  is  not  "dying," 
as  Sir  James  Jeans  described  it  thirty  years  ago 
in  Tlie  Mysterious  Universe,  but  is  in  the  very 
prime  of  its  life.  The  evidence  for  the  expansion 
of  the  Universe,  in  the  light  of  these  investiga- 
tions and  speculations,  may  suggest  that  it  is  but 
an  incident  in  the  long  sweep  of  cosmic  history. 

THE     SUN'S     DESTINY 

INDEED  Chandrasekhar's  limit  gives  assur- 
ance that  our  Sun  will  not  suffer  the  fate 
predicted  for  Sirius.  The  solar  mass  is  too  small 
to  become  a  supernova.  But  the  Sun  will  change. 
What  is  its  probable  destiny? 

In  response  to  this  question  Sandage  pointed 
to  a  diagram  that  he  and  Harold  L.  Johnson  of 
the  Lowell  Observatory  had  recently  made  of  the 
star  cluster  known  as  M  (>7.  It  is  one  of  the 
open  clusters  of  the  Milky  Way.  a  group  of  sev- 
eral thousand  stars  in  the  constellation  Cancer, 
and  from  their  association  and  motion  they  ap- 
pear to  have  had  a  common  origin  and  to  be 
of  the  same  age.  But  they  are  of  different  masses- 
some  in  the  Sun's  class,  others  which  have  moved 
off  the  main  sequence,  still  others  in  the  red- 
giant   stage,   and   also   a   few   white   dwarfs. 

"I  think  the  Sun's  evolution  is  going  to  paral- 
lel that  of  the  stars  of  M  67,"  Sandage  said,  "and 
from  the  track  already  traveled  by  this  cluster 
we  can  draw  some  reasonable  inferences." 

The  astronomer  traced  a  path  on  the  dia- 
gram shown  here.  The  Sun,  remember,  has 
already  been  in  existence  about  5,000  million 
years.  Sandage  calculates  that  another  5,000  mil- 
lion will  elapse  before  it  leaves  the  main 
sequence.  Then  it  will  expand  and  eventually 
reach  30  times  its  present  size.  From  the  Earth 
the  swollen  Sun  will  appear  as  a  dull  red  globe 
15  degrees  in  diameter,  instead  of  its  present  one- 
half  degree. 

At  its  maximum  the  Sun  will  be  burning  hy- 
drogen at  an  extravagant  rate.  As  the  fuel  sup- 
ply nears  exhaustion,  the  slow  decline  in  bright- 
ness along  the  track  from  the  right  to  the  left  of 
the  diagram  will  occur,  and  the  Sun  will  end  its 
career  as  a  shrunken  white  dwarf. 

What  of  the  Earth's  fate?  "Catastrophe  will 
overtake  most  forms  of  life  when  the  Sun  reaches 
four  times  its  present  size.  At  this  stage  our 
planet's  surface  temperature  will  be  about  158° 
Fahrenheit.  As  the  Sun  continues  to  expand,  its 
heat  will  drive  the  Earth's  temperature  above 
the  boiling  point  of  water,  then  above  the  melt- 
ing point  of  lead,  until  finally  it  will  measure 
more  than  1,400°  F.  The  oceans  will  have  boiled 


away,  the  oxygen-carbon  equilibrium  of  the  at- 
mosphere will  probably  have  disappeared.  From 
this  maximum  the  temperature  will  slowly  fall 
as  the  Sun  begins  its  decline.  Eventually  the 
waters  will  rain  down  again  over  the  scorched 
lands  and  exposed  sea  bottoms.  After  this  brief 
period,  as  cooling  continues,  the  oceans  will 
freeze  and  the  coldness  of  the  Earth  will  be 
profound." 

It  is  conceivable,  Sandage  suggests,  that  in  the 
5,000  million  years  remaining  before  the  rise  in 
solar  luminosity,  "biological  evolution  by  adap- 
tive processes  can  modify;  the  human  species 
sufficiently  to  compensate  for  the  gradual  tem- 
perature rise,  and  postpone  for  some  time  the 


1000 

Sun  ot 

100 

* 

maximum 

10 

/* 

"^^ 

1 

( 

\toSun  today 

1 

10 

1 

\ 

Sun  at 

100 

\ 

white  dwarf 

1 

1000 

\ 

.      stage 
^— i — — i \- 

— — I 1 

25,000"      15,OO0'lO,O00*7,500*5OOO°    3000* 
Predicted  Evolutionary  Truck  of  the  Sun 


eventual  doomsday.  Presumably  a  biologist 
could  in  principle  predict  the  course  which  the 
evolution  of  man  must  take  to  meet  the  chang- 
ing conditions." 

But  we  are  not  alone.  "Most  astronomers  be- 
lieve that  solar  systems  like  ours  are  common. 
The  Sun  is  only  one  star  among  millions  inj 
the  Milky  Way,  and  our  galaxy  is  but  one  among  I 
millions  in  the  Universe.  There  may  be  other  I 
worlds  much  like  our  own  where  life  exists. 

"We  are  lucky,"  Sandage  concludes.  "Our 
Sun's  rate  of  aging  is  slow.  Our  race  has  an- 
other 5,000  million  years  to  live.  Many  stars 
more  massive  exist,  and  in  them  the  aging  is 
faster.  Planets  circling  these  stars  go  through 
the  same  cycle  of  evolution  as  ours,  but  more 
swiftly.  There  may  be  people  in  the  Universe 
this  moment  facing  the  extremity  of  the  heat 
death.  God  made  the  Sun  of  such  a  size  that  we 
have  time  yet  ahead.  A  10  per  cent  increase  ir 
the  original  solar  mass  would  put  us  today  ai 
the  end  of  life. 

"Is  it  chance,  or  does  it  have  some  purpose 
that  our  star  was  not  made  more  massive?" 


HAPPY  MARRIAGE 


A  Story  by  JOYCE    CARY 

Drawings  by  Alan  Cober 

SAMUEL  THOMPSON,  civil  servant, 
was  the  only  child  of  Athenia  Battersby,  the 
famous  feminist  leader.  She  is  said  to  have  been 
the  original  inventor  of  the  plan  for  burning 
letter  boxes.  She  designed  the  suffrage  hat,  and 
wrote  a  book  proving  that  Shakespeare  was 
Queen  Elizabeth.  But  it  is  a  shame  for  the  mod- 
ern generation  of  women  to  laugh  at  Athenia. 
They  owe  her  a  big  debt.  She  had  courage  and 
character,  she  really  did  a  great  deal  to  get  them 
votes  and  sacrificed  much  of  herself  in  the  proc- 
ess, for  instance,  her  sense  of  humor. 

She  forbade  marriage  to  her  followers,  as  a 
degradation,  but  after  women's  votes  were 
granted,  she  married  Sandy  Thompson,  a 
feminist  as  enthusiastic  as  herself,  and  taught 
him  to  cook;  in  fact,  made  him  into  a  modern 
husband  thirty  years  before  his  time.  He  would 
do  the  washing  up  while  she  dashed  out  to 
meetings. 

Not  that  Sandy  was  put  upon.  He  himself 
proposed  to  do  the  washing  up,  and  learned 
sewing.  He  was  a  man  of  pugnacious  tempera- 
ment who  loved  any  excuse  for  a  fight.  If  he  had 
not   been    brought   up   a   Christian    pacifist   he 


would  have  made  a  first-class  thug.  As  an  or- 
ganizer of  suffrage  demonstrations  he  loved  to 
bash  policemen,  and  he  hemmed  dusters  to  show 
how  much  he  considered  women  a  superior  sex. 

Their  marriage  was  very  happy  in  its  own  way. 
But  dedicated  parents  are  bad  for  children,  whose 
imaginations,  like  their  bodies,  cannot  bear  to 
remain  fixed  in  any  one  position.  Samuel  had  an 
austere  upbringing— both  parents  taught  him 
from  his  earliest  years  that  boys  were  little  better 
than  the  brutes.  But,  as  friends  later  pointed  out 
to  him,  he  had  no  right  to  complain  of  anything, 
he  was  lucky  to  exist  at  all  and  had  almost  cer- 
tainly been  an  accident.  Athenia  was  even  more 
against  motherhood— at  least  for  feminist  pio- 
neers—than marriage.  She  held  that  responsible 
educated  women  should  devote  themselves  to  the 
professions,  in  order  to  take  a  commanding  place 
in  the  life  of  the  country. 

Samuel  took  the  point  and  w.as  humbly  grate- 
ful for  life,  such  as  it  was.  He  grew  up  a  modest 
and  retiring  character.  Even  at  his  office  in  the 
Ministry  of  Energy  he  was  hardly  known,  except 
as  a  signature,  by  anyone  outside  his  own  staff. 
He  belonged  to  no  clubs  and  played  no  games 
except  patience.  His  hobby  was  collecting  stamps, 
but  he  also  took  an  absorbed  interest  in  the  latest 
scientific  developments,  as  recorded  in  his  morn- 
ing paper,  an  old  liberal  daily  which,  by  tradi- 
tion, gave  at  least  half  a  column  a  week  to  general 
culture.  The  theory  of  the  expanding  universe 
occupied  him  for  months  and  drove  his  acquaint- 


66 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


ances  distracted.  He  was  also  extremely  con- 
cerned  about  nucleai  physics  and  the  possibility 
ol  [he  disappearance  <>l  the  world  one  morning 
owing  to  an  accident  at  the  Harwell  laboratories. 

Mi  especially  avoided  the  company  ol  women; 
he  appealed  a  confirmed  old  bachelor.  But  at 
loin  six,  in  everyone's  astonishment,  he  lell  in 
love  with  one  of  the  secretaries  at  the  office  and 
married  her.  Aminta  was  a  very  smart  \oung 
woman  direct  from  college  and  right  up-to-date. 
She  condescended  to  Picasso  and  was  completely 
bored  with  the  subject  ol  homosexuality.  She 
wore  a  Victorian  cameo  in  her  hat  and  had  two 
fine  drawings  by  Millais  in  hei  flat. 

The  wedding  was  in  church.  Aminta  was  a 
keen  churchwoman.  This  was  slightly  embar- 
rassing to  Samuel  who  had  never  even  been  bap- 
ti/ed.  His  mothei  had  strong  views  about  re- 
ligion. As  a  scientist  she  called  it  nonsense,  and 
as  a  feminist  a  man-made  device  for  the  subjec- 
tion of  women.  But  Aminta  pushed  him  through 
the  service  and  he  did  not  disgrace  himself. 

1  hey  settled  in  a  (harming  little  villa  at  Kevv, 
Ruskin  Gothic,  and  furnished  it  with  some  good 
mid-Victorian  mahogany.  Aminta  was  lucky 
enough  to  find  a  Clarkson  Stanfield  sea  picture 
in  a  junk  shop  and  to  get  it  for  ten  pounds.  This 
line  work  gave  great  distinction  to  their  sitting- 
room.  Aminta's  treasure  was  a  gilt  clock  under 
an  original  glass  dome,  which  required  and  re- 
ceived a  draped  mantelpiece. 

AMINTA  now  proposes  to  entertain 
Samuel's  friends  and  is  surprised  to  find  he 
hasn't  any.  She  has  dozens  of  both  sexes  and  all 
ages,  especially  friends  from  college.  All  these 
young  women  are  in  jobs  or  just  married  or 
both.  They  arrive  every  day  to  see  Aminta, 
bringing  small  babies  or  bottles  of  claret.  All  of 
them  want  to  see  Samuel,  and  gaze  curiously  at 
him,  tell  him  that  Aminta  will  make  a  very  good 
wife  in  spite  of  her  intelligence,  and  when  they 
go  away  say  to  each  other,  like  all  friends  of  a 
new-married  person,  "But  how  extraordinary- 
how  on  earth  did  it  happen— can  it  last?" 

They  suspect  that  their  dear  but  reckless 
Aminta  has  acquired  Samuel  as  a  collector's 
piece. 

Samuel  is  embarrassed  by  all  these  young  peo- 
ple, especially  the  girls.  They  shock  him  by  their 
conversation  about  the  most  intimate  details  of 
their  love  affairs  and  the  complexes  of  their 
lovers;  they  startle  him  by  their  strong  views  on 
the  subject  of  marriage,  and  especially  the  duties 
of  a  wife  and  mother.  They  have  no  patience 
with  a  girl  who  can't  cook,  clean,  wash,  drive 


any  make  of  car,  mend  linen,  put  in  a  fuse,  do 
running  repairs  on  household  gadgets,  choose, 
store,  and  decant  a  respectable  wine,  and  pick  a 
smokable  cigar  at  a  smokable  price.  As  for 
children,  they  all  want  six  apiece  and  take  the 
\  iew  that  if  any  child  does  not  turn  out  a  per- 
Icctlv  integrated  and  responsible  member  ol 
societv,  the  mother  will  be  entirely  to  blame. 

When  Samuel  dares  to  murmur  that  there  can 
be  bad  lathers,  they  gaze  at  him  lor  a  moment 
and  then  say  that  no  doubt  mothers  sometimes 
make  that  excuse,  but  it's  not  really  an  excuse. 
They  obviously  think  that  any  woman  ought  to 
be  able  to  cope  with  any  kind  of  man,  including 
the  worst  of  fathers.   "Cope"  is  their  great  word. 

They  are  polite  to  Samuel  but  they  don't  take 
him  very  serioush.  When  he  raises  the  question 
ol  the  expanding  universe  one  evening,  he  is 
assured  by  two  girls  at  once,  of  whom  one  has 
taken  a  first  class  in  mathematics  and  is  a  fellow 
of  her  college,  that  it  is  a  stunt  for  the  tabloids. 
The  universe,  they  say,  can  be  made  to  dance 
the  polka  with  a  suitable  equation;  it  depends 
only  on  which  system  you  use.  The  mathema- 
tician, who  is  in  the  eighth  month  of  her  second 
child,  then  returns  to  the  subject  of  lyings-in. 
Is  it  better  to  have  a  monthly  nurse  at  home  or 
go  to  the  hospital?  Either  way  things  can  go 
wrong,  and  then  the  party  discusses  some  cases 
that  have  gone  wrong,  with  the  technical  elabora- 
tion of  experts.  It  is,  for  instance,  quite  wrong 
to  suppose  that  the  widest  hips  are  a  guarantee 
of  safety.  Samuel  listens  with  horror,  and  breaks  ' 
into  cold  sweats.  Aminta  is  small,  with  an 
eighteen  waist  and  hips  of  that  rare  type  that 
look  slim  even  in  jeans. 

Aminta,  after  two  months  of  marriage,  is 
already  expecting.  She  has  been  decided  on  six 
children  from  the  age  of  ten.  She  too  has  had  a 
feminist  mother. 

Samuel  mutters  in  his  sleep  and  wakes  up  with 
a  moan.  Next  day  he  begins  to  flutter  about 
Aminta  like  a  nervous  hen.  She  must  not  lift 
that  chair,  she  must  not  use  her  arms,  she  must 
not  run  on  the  stairs,  she  must  not  go  out  this 
morning,  it  is  too  hot  or  too  cold.  Aminta  laughs 
at  him  and  obeys  till  he  has  gone  to  the  office. 
Luckily  at  this  time  his  newspaper  brings  out 
some  articles  on  painless  childbirth,  and  Samuel 
rushes  out  at  once  to  buy  all  the  books.  Aminta 
is  commanded  to  do  exercises,  to  learn  how  to 
relax.  And  she  obeys.  For  Aminta  herself  has 
been  a  little  apprehensive,  even  if  she  says 
nothing  about  it.  What  girl  doesn't  have  some 
anxiety  in  her  first  pregnancy? 

Aminta  had  lost  her  parents  young  and  her 


HAPPY     MARRIAGE 


67 


family  was  small  and  scattered,  Service  people. 
A  naval  cousin  dropped  in  from  Hong  Kong  one 
day  with  a  real  Chinese  jar  of  the  genuine  ginger. 
An  elder  sister,  an  Anglican  nun,  brought  her 
an  original  Negro  carving  from  Central  Africa. 
A  great-aunt  from  the  Midlands,  who  had  sent 
as  a  wedding  present  a  plated  muffineer  dating 
from  her  own  wedding,  asked  herself  for  a  week 
because,  as  she  explained,  she  could  stand  any- 
thing except  modern  hotels. 


SH  E  was  a  little  thin  woman  of  seventy-six 
with  the  complexion  of  a  sea  captain.  Her 
nose  was  Atlantic  blue,  a  dark  fierce  blue  like  the 
middle  of  a  storm  cloud.  Her  mahogany  cheeks 
were  as  dark  as  a  cabin  door.  Her  forehead  in  a 
sharp  line  above  her  eyebrows  was  dead  white 
like  that  of  an  old  sailor.  But  she  had  not  the 
suave  and  ingratiating  manner  of  the  liner  cap- 
tain; she  was  bluff  and  gruff.  She  had  got  her 
complexion  from  sixty  years  in  the  hunting  field 
where  she  had  made  a  distinguished  career  as 
the  first  woman  M.F.H.,  at  least  of  a  smart  pack. 
Even  in  town  she  wore  the  mannish  dress 
affected  by  pioneer  women  of  the  late  'eighties; 
a  Tyrol  felt,  a  double-breasted  reefer,  a  man's 
hard  collar  and  four-in-hand  tie. 


She  was  amazed  and  disgusted  by  the  furni- 
ture, especially  the  gilt  clock  and  the  draped 
chimney  board.  "Good  God,"  she  said,  "just  like 
my  granny's,  and  she  was  a  stuffy  old  relic  even 
for  Dawlish.  All  that  dusty  rubbish  went  out 
with  mustache  cups." 

She  thought  the  Stanfield  equally  out  of  date. 
She  herself  possessed  a  seascape,  a  Boudin.  "But 
of  course,  I  know  this  modern  French  stuff 
doesn't  appeal  to  everyone." 

She  brought  a  brace  of  pheasants  and  two 
bottles  of  port,  Croft  '26.  She  instructed  Aminta 
to  cook  the  pheasants,  an  anxious  job  for  so 
particular  a  gourmet,  but  she  allowed  no  one 
but  herself  to  decant  the  port. 

And  over  a  second  glass  that  evening,  she  un- 
bent so  far  as  to  say  she  could  forgive  Samuel 
everything  but  his  mother. 

"My  God,"  she  said,  "what  a  disaster— that 
vote.  When  I  was  young,  women  ran  the  civilized 
world,  let's  say,  France  down  to  Longchamp  and 
England  up  to  Newmarket,  but  they  don't  run 
anything  now  except  these  ridiculous  nylons.  My 
generation  were  people;  we  knew  how  to  make 
ourselves  respected,  but  you  girls  are  just  a  sex. 
Look  at  the  advertisements." 

When  she  heard  of  Aminta's  relaxing  exercises, 
she  snorted,  "There  you  are— just  what  I  said— 
as  if  women  were  all  the  same  size  and  shape, 
just  lumps  of  sex  stamped  out  from  the  same 
batch  of  cake  mixture  and  served  up  in  the  same 
frills." 

She  poured  and  savored  her  third  glass,  ac- 
cepted a  cigar,  glanced  at  the  name  on  the  box, 
said,  "How  do  you  afford  Havanas?  You  young 
people  nowadays  spoil  yourselves." 

"They  were  for  you,"  said  Aminta. 

"I  thought  so,"  said  she,  with  the  grim  smile 
of  an  M.F.H.  "Getting  round  the  old  fool  on 
her  weak  side." 

Suddenly  she  became  extraordinarily  genial,  in 
the  way  of  so  many  gruff  old  people  who  seem 
astonished  and  overwhelmed  at  the  least  mark  of 
affection.  Probably  the  old  woman  paid  for  her 
local  glory  in  loneliness.  All  at  once  she  couldn't 
do  too  much  for  her  dear  Aminta  and  Sammy. 
She  would  send  them  game  every  week  and  her 
own  recipe  for  bread  sauce.  She  would  order  a 
dozen  of  burgundy  at  once— that  was  the  stuff 
for  breeding  gals,  nothing  like  it  to  make  blood. 
As  for  the  lying-in,  there  was  only  one  man  in 
England— one  that  a  woman  could  trust— her  own 
man,  Dr.  McMurdo. 

"He's  delivered  all  the  Hunt  children  for 
forty  years  and  he's  set  my  collarbone  five  times. 
He's   been   retired   since    the  war  but   he'd   do 


68 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


anything  for  me.  I'll  bring  him  up  at  once  to 
look  over  the  ground." 

And  she  wired  next  morning.  She  belonged  to 
the  generation  before  'phones. 

Samuel  swore  that  no  Blankshire  bone-setter 
should  come  near  his  Aniinta.  But  Dr.  McMurdo 
came  next  day.  It  was  apparently  true  that  he 
would  do  anything  lor  a  lady  so  distinguished 
in  history  as  Vminta's  aunt.  He  was  also  in  his 
seventies,  an  enormous  man  with  a  huge  round 
purple  face  and  a  great  swat;  belly.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  shaggy  yellow  tweed  with  a  Eour-inch 
blue  check  and  a  duster-pattern  white  flannel 
waistcoat.  He  ate  and  drank  with  the  gusto  of  a 
Falstaff.  To  see  him  at  table  would  have  been 
an  inspiration  to  Stratford.  He  too  was  an  au- 
thority on  port,  and  his  manner  with  the  patient 
was  less  fatherly  than  familiar.  He  did  not  ex- 
actly give  her  a  slap  on  the  behind  after  his 
examination,  but  it  was  more  than  a  pat. 

When  she  talked  about  her  relaxing  exercises 
and  painless  childbirth,  he  grinned  like  a  satyr 
and  answered  with  more  affectionate  pats,  "Leave 
it  to  me,  me  dear.  That's  what  I'm  here  for. 
Just  leave  it  all  to  me  and  relax." 

\ii<l  he  winked  at  Thompson— a  wink  com- 
bining all  the  genial  villainy  of  a  Falstaff  with 
all  the  cynicism,  as  Thompson  put  it,  of  an 
abortionist.  And  as  soon  as  Aminta  had  her 
first  real  pain  out  came  the  chloroform  mask. 
She  knew  nothing  more  till  she  waked  up  feeling 
beautifully  flat,  and  heard,  as  in  the  far  distance, 
a  baby  crying  somewhere,  and  gradually  realized 
that  this  was  her  baby. 

AFTER  that  it  somehow  came  about  that 
\l(  Murdo  attended  also  for  the  other  two 
children.  They  are  brought  up  in  the  new  style, 
to  mind  their  manners,  and  get  up  when  their 
papa  comes  to  table— just  as  Aminta  promised 
to  obey,  so  she  says  a  house  must  have  its  head 
and  supports  the  authority  of  the  father.  The 
result  is  that  when  she  threatens  them,  "I'll  tell 
Papa,"  they  become  instantly  as  good  as  gold 
and  amenable  as  lambs.  They  are  happy,  lively, 
and  reasonable;  they  have  no  moral  problems 
and  always  know  what  is  the  right  thing  to  do 
even  when  they  don't  mean  to  do  it. 

The  Thompson  family  in  short  is  a  very  happy 
one— Aminta's  friends  who  assured  Samuel  that 
her  intelligence  would  not  prevent  her  from  mak- 
ing a  success  of  marriage  were  right.  Samuel 
adores  her.  Their  only  subject  of  occasional  dif- 
ference is  the  vote.  As  a  son  of  his  mother  he 
thinks  Aminta  takes  the  vote  too  lightly. 

Not  that  she  despises  it.  "Of  course  it's  a  thing 


one  has  to  have,"  she  says,  "like  mumps.  But 
why  do  they  always  have  elections  on  wet  days 
and  put  the  polling  booths  in  back  yards  among 
municipal  dustbins.  And  what  do  votes  do  after 
all?" 

1  hough  Aminta  makes  a  great  deal  of  Samuel's 
authority  as  master  of  the  house  it  is  noticed  that 
she  runs  everything;  looks  after  all  the  money, 
pays  all  bills— even  at  Samuel's  new  croquet  club 
—drives  the  car,  and  chooses  the  family  holiday. 
What's  mote,  when,  in  that  frantic  fortnight  be- 
fore Budget  Day,  Samuel,  like  all  senioi  govern- 
ment clerks,  brings  hack  memos  in  the  evening 
and  even  lot  tin  Sunday,  she  will  sit  down  and 
knock  up  a  quite  masterly  report  on  the  Calorific 
Value  of  Brick  Dust,  or  the  Profitable  Utilization 
ol  l.u  tory  Smoke. 


They  are  a  happy  couple  and  in  this  happiness 
Samuel  has  blossomed  in  a  late  florescence.  He 
has  given  up  stamps  and  collects  glass  paper- 
weights. He  wears  a  bowler  and  fancy  waistcoats. 
His  trousers  grow  narrower  and  narrower.  He 
says  that  nowadays  there  is  so  little  difference 
between  political  parties  that  old  liberals  like 
himself  might  as  well  vote  blindfold.  And  last 
election  he  very  nearly  did  vote  Conservative. 
The  only  reason  why  he  refrained  at  the  last 
moment  was  because  he  discovered  that  the  Lib- 
eral candidate  was  a  strong  supporter  of  Sunday 
observance,  and  he  has  become  a  devoted  Church- 
man with  a  leaning  to  evangelism.  In  short,  he  is 
very  nearly  a  new  man. 


Norman  MacKenzie 


THE  ENGLISH 
DISEASE 


Its  symptoms  are  the  slogan  "I  couldn't 

care  less"  plus  a  paralyzing  kind  of 

politeness  ...  its  causes  seem  to  be  boredom 

with  "The  Humbug  State"  and  a  helpless 

feeling  that  Britain  is  sliding  downhill.  .  .  . 

A  clinical  report  by  a  London  editor, 

who  believes  his  patient's  condition 

is  critical  but  not  hopeless. 

IT  COMES  as  a  shock  each  time  you  hear 
the  phrase.  A  German  businessman  in  the 
bar  of  the  Atlantic  Hotel  in  Hamburg  uses  it 
contemptuously  as  he  describes  how  he  beat  an 
English  competitor  to  an  order.  "Not  typical," 
you  murmur.  A  Swiss  visitor  mutters  it  as  he 
looks  at  the  cracked  cups  and  the  tea-swill  in  a 
station  cafeteria  in  Manchester.  'Ah,  but  you 
should  go  to  the  new  espresso  coffee  bars  .  .  ." 
you  begin  to  correct  him.  An  American  jour- 
nalist introduces  it  into  a  lunch-time  discussion 
about  John  Osborne's  plays,  "No,"  you  start 
to  say,  "it's  not  fair.  We  aren't  all  like  that  .  .  . 
we  can  still  invent,  produce,  trade,  write,  paint 
...  we  still  have  something  to  say  in  the  world, 
something  useful  to  do  .  .  .  the  Viscount  aircraft, 
the  nuclear  power  station  at  Calder  Hall,  Benja- 
min Britten,  the  Health  Service,  Graham  Greene, 
independence  for  Ghana  and  Malaya.  .  .  ." 

And  then  you  stop  short.  Haven't  you  just 
been  saying  that  politics  have  become  a  bore, 
that  the  theater  is  dying,  that  English  industry 
is  monopoly-minded,  unimaginative  .  .  .  ?  Of 
course.  Weren't  you  just  talking  of  that  TV 
program  you  wrote  on  "The  Future  of  Britain" 
and  remarking  how  much  easier  it  was  to  find 
pessimists  than  optimists?  Certainly.  Then  why 
do  you  resent  it  when  a  foreigner  comes  to  the 


same  conclusion?  Is  he  really  wrong  in  arguing 
that  we  are  fast  becoming  a  nation  of  also-rans, 
sorry  for  ourselves,  but  just  comfortable  enough 
to  do  nothing  about  it? 

It  is  a  strange  state  of  mind.  We  almost  believe 
it  when  we  say  that  we  English  are  pretty  decent 
chaps,  after  all,  and  this  is  a  good  country  to 
live  in— but  then  half  of  us,  privately,  confess 
to  the  opinion  pollster  that  at  one  time  or 
another  we  have  thought  about  emigrating.  We 
write,  and  read,  solemn  articles  that  insist  that 
we  still  count  as  a  world  power— then  we  almost 
wreck  the  Commonwealth,  cause  trouble  with 
our  American  allies,  and  expose  our  own  mili- 
tary weakness  in  the  effort  to  prove  it  by  a  futile 
demonstration  against  Nasser.  We  read  the 
headlines  that  chronicle  our  descent  from  great- 
ness—and turn  from  them  with  a  yawn  to  ch^rk 
our  football  pool  coupons  or  blur  our  minds 
and  our  eyes  on  the  1 7-inch  telly. 

We  are  always  ready  to  give  other  nations  les- 
sons on  democracy— but  we  let  our  parties  be- 
come closed  oligarchies,  we  let  our  civil  liberties 
be  corroded,  and  every  week  we  find  new  totems 
and  taboos  to  buttress  our  cult  of  monarchy. 
We  talk  about  winning  the  battle  for  the  pound 
—but  our  industrialists  are  as  much  interested  in 
tax  dodges  and  capital  gains  as  in  production, 
and  our  workers  say  that  the  way  prices  keep 
going  up  it's  time  the  union  put  in  a  claim  for 
another  ten  bob  a  week.  We  hold  up  our  hands 
in  horror  at  the  fearful  goings-on  in  Little  Rock 
—but  our  bus  crews  in  Birmingham  threaten  to 
strike  if  any  more  West  Indians  are  hired,  and 
our  government  interns  thousands  of  Kenya 
Africans  without   trial. 

We  English  are  bored  and  restless,  cynical 
and  complacent:  we  lean  on  our  spades, 
watch  the  clock,  blame  the  bosses,  blame  the 
unions,  envy  the  Americans,  worry  about  the 
Germans,    distrust    the    Russians;    we    write    off 


70 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


our  politicians  as  pompous  self-seekci  s,  dismiss 
our  priests  as  old  fogies,  make  popular  idols  of 
our  quiz-winners,  shrug  our  shoulders  al  the 
world  going  to  hell  around  us— and  we  don't 
give  a  damn. 

SYMPTOMS     AND     GUILT 

Til  AT,  surely,  is  the  peculiar  quality  of 
our  crime  against  ourselves  and  our  chil- 
dren: we  know,  but  we  are  indifferent.  A  Soviet 
novelist— I  can  well  understand  why  Stalin  did 
not  like  him— once  wrote  a  book  called  The 
Revolt  of  the  Indifferent. 

"Do  not  fear  your  friends,"  he  said.  "They 
can  only  betray  you.  Do  not  fear  your  enemies. 
They  can  only  defeat  you.  But  fear  the  indif- 
ferent, for  their  indifference  makes  it  possible 
for  your  friends  to  betray  you  and  your  enemies 
to  defeat  you." 

Now  a  Communist  society  forces  indifference 
upon  the  mass  of  the  population  as  an  act  of 
policy.  It  is  almost  a  social  virtue:  if  you  are 
indifferent,  and  work  hard,  you  get  a  medal  or  a 
holiday  at  a  rest  home  or  a  larger  apartment. 
The  only  condition  is  that  you  do  not  ask  nasty 
questions  or  otherwise  make  life  difficult  for  the 
party  bosses  who  remain  bosses  because  you  are 
indifferent.  But  we  have  not  had  indifference 
thrust  upon  us:  we  have  acquired  it,  and  we 
accept  it  because  it  makes  much  less  trouble,  not 
for  others,  but  for  ourselves.  Why  bother?  The 
question  is  the  first  symptom  of  the  disease. 

Yet  we  are  nofchappy  in  our  indifference.  We 
have  a  deep  sense  of  guilt  about  it.  (This,  I  take 
it,  is  why  we  resent  the  German  businessman, 
the  Swiss  visitor,  the  American  journalist.)  And 
we  project  that  guilt  upon  our  neighbors. 

"Why  should  I  cut  out  my  tea-break  to  finish 
a  rush  order?"  asks  a  factory  worker.  "My  boss 
takes  two  hours  for  lunch." 

The  disillusioned  teacher  who  has  to  cope 
with  a  class  of  forty  children  in  a  school  long 
overdue  for  demolition:  "Why  should  I  make 
the  extra  effort  for  the  more  backward  children? 
If  only  the  council  would  give  us  enough  staff 
and  adequate  equipment  I  could  manage  it." 

A  doctor  who  has  left  hospital  work  to  advise 
a  drug  company:  "The  pay  was  terrible,  my 
promotion  prospects  poor,  the  conditions  im- 
possible. But  I'm  not  leaving  for  the  money. 
They  obviously  don't  want  decent  doctors." 

And  a  final  example  I  know— this  one  a  young 
architect  of  ability  who  took  a  useful  but  not 
very  lucrative  job  in  town  planning  after  the 
war.    He  gave  it  up,  and  is  now  earning  a  large 


salary  designing  hideous  brick  boxes  for  a 
speculative  builder.  "Nobody  was  interested  any 
mote,"  he  said.  "Why  should  I  sacrifice  myself 
for  the  Britain  beautiful  when  no  one  seems  to 
want  to  live  in  it?" 

Why,  indeed?  This  is  a  failure  of  morale.  Am 
I  my  brother's  timekeeper,  his  teacher,  his 
healer,  his  town  planner?  Not  any  more,  it 
seems.  Why,  when  he  does  not  want  me?  I  do 
not  give  up  because  I  am  betrayed  or  defeated, 
but  because  no  one  cares.  Even  the  words  "be- 
trayal" and  "defeat"  imply  a  cause,  but  when  no 
one  cues  there  are  no  causes.  We  fight  our  sham 
battles,  and  go  through  the  drill  we  learned 
when  we  thought  the  causes  mattered.  We 
scarcely  deceive  ourselves  that  we  know  what  the 
battles  are  about.  Tweedledum  and  Tweedledee 
are  our  generals  and  as  they  go  at  it  with  their 
pots  and  pans  we  are  as  bewildered  as  Alice. 

Yet  there  are  causes  if  we  choose  to  seek  them 
out.  There  is  a  very  simple  but  fundamental  one 
—our  own  economic  survival.  Once  again,  we 
know  the  facts:  we  need  to  produce  more,  to 
design  better,  to  sell  more  aggressively, .  to  con- 
sume less  and  invest  more,  to  clear  away  the 
restrictive  practices  of  both  business  and  the 
unions,  to  modernize  our  machines  and  over- 
haul our  labor-management  relations.  Once 
again,  indifference:  we  are  doing  nicely,  thank 
you,  and  please  close  the  door  gently  as  you  go 
out  in  case  you  shake  down  the  cobwebs. 

Why?  A  nation  needs  a  dream  to  unite  it.  And 
our  dream  is  of  the  past,  not  the  future.  We' 
know  what  we  were— not  what  we  are,  or  what 
we  wish  to  become.  We  stumble  forward  blindly 
because  we  look  over  our  shoulders.  Germans  do 
not  look  back— there  are  only  ruins,  cruelty,  de- 
feat; Russians  do  not  look  back— the  future  can- 
not be  worse  than  the  past;  Americans  do  not 
look  back— the  future  will  always  be  better  than 
the  past. 

But  we  look  back,  because  then  we  could 
believe  in  ourselves.  Our  ruling  class  was  secure: 
it  believed  in  God,  the  King,  and  the  Empire, 
the  wickedness  of  trade  unions,  and  the  right- 
eousness of  property.  Our  middle  class  had  its 
ambitions,  and  the  creature  comforts  that  went 
with  world  power,  cheap  labor  at  home,  and 
even  cheaper  labor  in  the  colonies.  And  our 
working  class  knew  it  was  ill-used,  exploited, 
denied  its  rights— and,  in  its  poverty  and  im- 
potence, it  could  believe  in  the  New  Jerusalem. 

Suddenly,  it  was  all  meaningless.  Six  years  of 
war,  and  six  years  of  the  Labor  government,  de- 
stroyed that  society  for  good.  And  in  its  place 
it  put  a  social  stalemate,  a  caucus  race  without 


THE     ENGLISH     DISEASE 


71 


great  rewards  or  punishments,  but  with  small 
prizes  for  everybody— the  expense  account  for  the 
businessman,  the  washing  machine  for  the  house- 
wife, the  television  set  for  the  worker,  the  pres- 
tige jobs  for  members  of  the  old  ruling  class  who 
find  themselves  at  a  loose  end,  socialized  medi- 
cine for  the  middle  class,  and,  for  all  of  us,  what 
John  Osborne  calls  "the  wave  of  a  gloved  hand 
from  the  golden  coach." 

THE     NEW     ESTABLISHMENT 

WE  ONCE  took  the  monarchy  for 
granted.  Why  have  some  of  us  now 
taken  it  as  a  target?  Because  it  is  the  central 
symbol  of  the  new  Establishment.  It  is  benign— 
and  utterly  irrelevant  to  anything  that  matters. 
Round  it  cluster  the  modern  Barnacles  of  all 
the  Circumlocution  Offices— the  masters  of  the 
soft  phrase  and  the  indecisive  policy,  the 
directors  of  radio  and  television  programs,  most 
of  our  politicians,  our  editors,  even  our  indus- 
trialists and  trade  union  leaders.  We  have  all 
arrived,  and  as  W.  S.  Gilbert's  Duke  of  Plaza- 
Toro  pointed  out,  "When  everyone  is  some- 
body, then  no  one's  anybody."  The  Barnacles 
have  another  debt  to  the 
Duke:  he  taught  them  the 
great  advantage  of  leading 
an  army  from  behind— a 
position  that  suits  the  Bar- 
nacles since  they  are  look- 
ing backwards  in  any  case. 

Our  debt  to  the  Barna- 
cles of  the  Establishment 
is  immense.  They  have 
helped  us  organize  our  lives 
so  that  nothing  can  hap- 
pen. A  Socialist,  my  dear 
fellow?  Tut,  tut.  You'll 
never  get  anywhere:  we  all 
have  too  much  to  lose.  A 
Tory?  Dear  me,  how  ex- 
treme, and  how  old-fash- 
ioned. Don't  you  know, 
old  chap,  that  the  trade 
unions  run  the  show  now? 
A  Liberal?  Ah,  that's  bet- 
ter. Just  stand  over  there 
and  hold  a  quiet  meeting 
about  home  rule  for  Scot- 
land, or  tax  reform,  or  in- 
dustrial co-partnership.  No- 
body will  bother  you:  no- 
body will  even  listen. 

What  did  you  say  about 


Suez?  Yes,  most  regrettable.  The  Americans  let 
us  down,  you  know,  and  Sir  Anthony  was  a  bit 
under  the  weather  at  the  time.  Oh,  capital  pun- 
ishment? Well,  we  fixed  that  up:  we  shan't  ac- 
tually hang  anyone,  but  we  must  keep  the 
principle  for  crimes  that  no  one  commits.  Leaves 
the  trap  open,  if  you'll  forgive  the  phrase. 
Prostitutes?  That  was  rather  neat.  Drive  them 
off  the  streets  with  heavy  fines,  and  we  can  have 
a  nice,  clean,  cozy  call-girl  racket.  Old-age  pen- 
sioners, did  you  say?  Slum  schools,  overcrowded 
hospitals,  industrial  stagnation,  subtopia  sprawl- 
ing into   the  countryside? 

Now,  now,  all  those  things  are  coming  along 
quite  nicely,  and  you  must  be  patient.  After  all, 
we  have  our  little  troubles,  and  with  this  eco- 
nomic crisis,  you  know,  we  must  all  make  our 
sacrifices.  .  .  .  Oh,  excuse  me,  I  must  go  and 
have  a  word  with  that  troublesome  fellow.  He 
keeps  coming  here  and  insisting  that  we  do  some- 
thing. .  .  . 

No  wonder  that  Jimmy  Porter  in  Look  Back 
in  Anger  cries  out  for  at  least  a  "good  loud 
bloody  damn!"  This  is  the  Humbug  State, 
bristling  with  chromium-plated  safety  valves. 
And  they  are  not  even  needed.  We  shall  hedge, 


/ 


LOOK  BACK 
1M  ANGER 


%  f — 


1F22-* 


"We  have  no  angry  young  men  in  Old  Westbury, 
I  can  assure  you." 


72 


HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


Ars  Longa,  Vita  Brevis 


A 


PICTURE  entitled  "modernistic 
embrace"  won  a  prize  for  Miss 
Lynne  Aiiver,  seven-year-old  artist. 
She  explained  philosophically, 
"Most  people  don't  understand 
modern  art,  but  it  is  the  only  thing 
I  can  draw." 

—UP,  New  Orleans,  August  23,  1957. 


qualify,  compromise,  rub  off  the  sharp  edges  to 
life,  forget  what  it  is  like  to  hate  or  love  pas- 
sionately, praise  honesth,  oi  condemn  with  con- 
viction. We  shall  make  hypocris)  the  condition 
of  success  and  plain  speech  a  gross  indiscretion. 
We  have  be<  nine  genteel. 

Of  course,  we  always  hankered  alter  gentility. 
It  is  only  in  the  last  few  years  that  we  have  man- 
aged, so  to  speak,  to  make  it  one  of  the  unwritten 
conventions  of  out  social  constitution.  And,  it 
may  be,  it  reflects  only  a  passing  phase.  Ten 
years  from  now,  perhaps,  we  shall  wonder  how 
we  could  drift  so  complacently  through  the 
nineteen-fifties,  bowing  and  scraping  to  each 
other  in  a  ritual  that  is  utterly  irrelevant  to  the 
world  of  the  H-bomb,  the  sputnik,  automation, 
Arab  nationalism,  and  all  the  other  jokers  in 
the  pack. 

THE     CYCLE     OF     DECLINE 

WHY  are  we  in  this  condition?  (I  say 
"we"  because  this  is  a  condition  you  can 
find  at  all  social  levels— the  businessman  and 
the  union  organizer,  the  Labor  party  stalwart 
and  the  Conservative  party  member,  the  writer, 
the  civil  servant,  the  scientist,  and  the  shop- 
keeper.) Is  it  a  form  of  psychic  exhaustion— a  de- 
layed payment  for  the  war  effort  and  postwar 
austerity?  A  little,  perhaps.  Is  it  due  to  a  rejec- 
tion of  responsibility,  a  feeling  of  helplessness, 
the  loss  of  a  sense  of  destiny— because  the  control 
of  destiny  has  somehow  passed  from  our  keeping 
into  other  hands?   A  little  of  that,  too. 

Is  it  one  of  those  mysterious  afflictions  which 
seem  to  plague  nations  that  are  on  the  way  down 
—so  that  a  Goth  in  the  fourth  century  might 
have  spoken  with  contempt  of  the  "Roman 
Disease,"   or   a   seventeenth-century    Englishman 


could  have  talked  ol  the  "Spanish  Disease"? 
Perhaps,  but  we  do  not  know  what  starts  off  the 
cycle  of  decline,  nor  why  people  who  see  it  start- 
ing prove  powerless  to  arrest  it.  So  that  line  of 
reasoning  leads  nowhere;  at  least,  it  leads  to 
resignation  rather  than  to  action. 

Yet  it  is  too  soon  to  be  resigned,  though  it 
may  soon  be  too  late  to  act.  And  so  we  English 
hover  at  the  turning  point,  torn  by  uncertainty 
and  indecision,  publicly  assuring  ourselves  that 
we  are  on  the  threshold  of  a  New  Elizabethan 
Age  (this  is  one  of  the  more  odorous  of  our  social 
mothballs!)  and  privately  confessing  our  doubts 
and  discontents,  insisting  that  we  shall  yet  reap 
rich  harvests,  and  meanwhile  making  ourselves 
comfortable  by  feasting  on  the  seed  corn,  know- 
ing secretly  that  much  of  the  past  was  intolerable, 
fearing  that  much  of  the  future  will  be  unbear- 
able, and  feeling  guilty  because  the  present,  it 
unexciting,  is  both  tolerable  and  bearable. 

Perhaps  the  key  lies  in  the  phrase  "turning 
point,"  lor  this  country  is  going  through  a  slow 
and  painful  process  of  adjustment— externally, 
adjustment  to  a  world  in  which  we  shall  speak 
when  we  are  spoken  to,  and  perhaps  speak  third 
or  fourth  or  fifth  in  turn;  internally,  to  a  society 
without  great  differences  of  wealth  or  class,  in 
which  the  familiar  signposts  of  status  have  been 
lorn  down.  Because  we  once  were  rich,  powerful, 
(lass-conscious,  we  still  use  the  old  vocabulary  to 
describe  ourselves,  though  the  substance  has  died 
within  the  shell  of  words.  This  is  a  society  in 
transition,  living  in  a  gray  light  that  may  be  dusk  ' 
or  dawn,  where  the  old  is  too  strong  to  die  and 
the  new  too  weak  to  be  born. 

It  is  tempting  to  put  this  into  the  neat  boxes 
of  politics:  i.e.,  the  Tories  want  the  past,  and 
Labor  wants  the  future.  But  this  is  only  a  half- 
truth.  In  some  ways,  both  our  main  parties  are 
conservative,  prisoners  of  their  own  history. 
That  is  one  reason  why  people  are  cynical  about 
politics,  and  why  they  distrust  politicians  who 
talk  as  if  the  world  were  still  England's  oyster, 
as  if  all  we  need  to  legislate  ourselves  into  a 
hygienic  paradise  is  another  pension  scheme,  or  a 
housing  program,  or  some  other  nostrum. 

We  need  a  fresh  start,  a  new  image  which 
explains  how  we  can  live  in  a  world  where  our 
influence  daily  diminishes  and  our  economic 
resources  are  shrinking  to  the  point  of  crisis.  If 
we  can  discover  that  image,  we  shall  have  causes 
enough,  challenge  enough,  excitement  and  emo- 
tions to  match  it.  Whether  we  discover  it  de- 
pends on  whether  the  "English  Disease"  is  a 
temporary  attack  of  palsy  or  the  first  onset  of 
permanent  paralysis. 


IOIU) 
UA'tR! 


AMERICAN 


LORD 
CALVERT 


mm     h 


Wanted  on  Voyage 

(The  world's  three  great  whiskies) 


Self-respecting  ships  almost  always  carry 
the  world's   three  great  whiskies.   A   great 
Scotch.  A  great  Canadian.  And  the  greatest 
of  all  American  whiskies — lord  calvert. 
But  some  people  take  no  chances.  Hence 


this  cunning  case — especially  designed  for 
men  on  the  move. 

"Better  be  safe  than  sorry,"  says  a  Very 
Important  Platitude,  "particularly  when 
surrounded  by  water." 


LORD  CALVERT.  AMERICAN  BLENDED  WHISKEY.  86  PROOF,  65%  GRAIN  NEUTRAL  SPIRITS,  CALVERT  DISTILLERS  COMPANY.  N.Y.C. 


:V*»V 


•  ' 


V 


Juan  Ramon  Jimenez  at  the  University  of  Pa 


l<  ■■  I' 


San  Juan.  Photograph  by  Michel  Alexis 


Yet  another  areat  man  chooses  Puerto  Rico  as  his  home 


This  is  the  Andalusian  poet  who 
won  the  Nobel  Prize  in  1956.  His 
name  is  Juan  Ramon  Jimenez— and  he 
li\ es  in  Puerto  Rico. 

You  see  him  at  Puerto  Rico's  most 
famous  university.  Not  far  from  this 
cloister  is  a  fine  new  library,  to  which 
Jimenez  recently  presented  his  entire 
book  collection.  He  made  this  gift 
without  thought  of  personal  acclaim.  It 


is  to  honor  the  memory  of  his  late  wife. 

Puerto  Ricans  are  proud  that  men 
like  Jimenez  should  choose  to  live  in 
their  lovely  land.  It  is  a  sign  that  their 
plans  for  the  future  are  going  well. 
Alore  industry  to  bring  the  fuller  life. 
More  education  to  bring  the  wisdom 
to  enjoy  it. 

In  one  of  his  books,  Jimenez  talks  to 
his  donkey.  "It  seems,  Platero,  while 


the  Angclus  rings,  that  this  life  of  our; 
loses  irs  everyday  strength  and  thai 
another  force  within  makes  everything 
—  as  though  fed  from  a  reservoir  olj 
grace  — rise  to  the  stars  .  .  ." 

Puerto  Ricans  like  to  think  that  thes 
dc\  out  words  capture  the  spirit  of  thcil 
own  renaissance. 

©  1958 -Commonwealth  of  Puerto  RicOjj 
666  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  19,  N.  Yl 


Peter  F.  Drucker 


MATH 

Even  Parents 
Can  Understand 


It  may  sound  miraculous — but  it  is  really 

true  that  a  new  way  has  been  found  to  teach 

mathematics  .  .  .  which  makes  it  not  only  fun 

to  learn,  but  also  possible  to  remember. 

I  BELONG  to  a  large  fraternity:  the 
Substitute  Mathematics  Teachers  Interna- 
tional—a world-wide  society  of  incompetents 
which  embraces  the  parents  of  most  high-school 
students,  regardless  of  race,  creed,  color,  sex, 
country  of  origin,  or  qualifications.  Universally, 
it  seems,  children  need  help  with  mathematics 
from  their  parents  all  the  way  through  secondary 
school.  And  the  parents,  by  and  large,  are  as  con- 
fused and  bewildered  by  the  children's  mathe- 
matics work  as  are  the  children  themselves.  One 
of  the  most  popular  features  in  a  popular 
almanac  for  1957  was  a  "pony"  for  parents  to 
"relearn  mathematics"  so  as  to  be  able  to  "help 
junior."  It  did  not  go  beyond  the  ninth-grade 
level— and  yet  in  at  least  one  New  York  suburb 
there  now  circulates  among  the  members  of  the 
university  women's  club  a  "pony"  to  this  "pony." 

Neither  this,  nor  any  other  almanac,  includes, 
however,  a  "pony"  for  any  other  school  subject, 
whether  English  composition,  history,  chemistry, 
biology,  or  French. 

Yet  despite  all  this  "substitute"  teaching  lew 
high-school  or  college  students  learn  mathe- 
matics. Even  if  their  grades  have  been  good, 
most  will  have  forgotten  all  mathematics  beyond 
fractions,  decimals,  and  percentages  six  weeks  or 
so  after  they  pass  the  last  math  test  in  their  final 


course.  All  they  retain,  as  a  rule,  is  a  lasting 
horror  of  "figures." 

I  know  one  young  woman,  for  instance,  who 
flunked  her  first  test  in  economics  in  college 
because  it  contained  a  simple  supply-and- 
demand  ecpiation.  "When  I  set'  figures,  my 
mind  just  goes  blank"  is  her  explanation.  She 
never  liked  math.  But  only  two  years  earlier  she 
had  made  the  highest  possible  mathematics  score 
in  her  College  Board  examination. 

Is  this,  as  we  so  often  hear  today,  a  peculiarly 
American  failing?  The  answer  is  a  clear  and 
certain   "No." 

My  own  secondary  school  thirty  years  ago— 
an  Austrian  "gymnasium"— included  in  its  cur- 
riculum as  much  mathematics  as,  we  are  told, 
the  Russians  do.  We  were  taught  a  good  deal 
more  than  is  required  of  the  American  col- 
lege student  majoring  in  science:  calculus  and 
differential  equations,  logarithms,  probability, 
advanced  algebra,  conic  sections,  analytical 
geometry,  and  so  on.  We  had  math  five  or  six 
days  a  week  lor  eight  years.  The  courses  were 
required,  the  standards  high.  We  had  a  written 
test  every  week,  a  bigger  test  every  three  months, 
a  comprehensive  "final"  every  year,  and  a  day- 
long written  examination  on  the  entire  work 
of  all  eight  years  at  the  end.  No  one  doubted 
that  we  could  all  pass  the  test— and  all  thirty 
ol  us  did,  at  least  hall  with  a  grade  of  B  or 
better.  Yet  when  we  met  next  fall,  only  four 
or  five— the  "naturals"  who  never  really  had  to 
work  on  it— still  knew  any  math  at  all.  The 
boy  who  had  sat  next  to  me  for  eight  long 
years,  and  who  had  always  gotten  straight  A's 
in  every  subject  including  math,  had  forgotten 
everything.  So  had  "average"  students  like  my- 
self—and we  openly  boasted  of  this  remarkable 
achievement. 

This  was  true  of  all  Austrian  secondary 
schools— as  it  had  been  true,  forty  years  earlier, 
in  my  lather's  day,  and  is  true  today.  It  is  just 
as  true  for  secondary  schools  in  France  and 
Germany,  Sweden,  Spain,  or  Argentina.  It  is 
undoubtedly  just  as  true  in  Russia.  And  it  is, 
of  course,  what  is  happening  in  the  American 
high  school  and  college. 

For  twenty  years  now  1  have  been  "polling" 
people  I  met— always  with  the  same  result:  the 
handful  of  "naturals"  who  would  have  learned 
it  anyhow,  learn  mathematics.  The  others,  smart 
and  chimb  alike,  just  take  as  many  courses  as 
they  have  to;  pass  them  with  good  grades  or 
poor;  and  promptly  iorget  all  they  were  taught. 
The  highly  educated  do  no  better  than  the 
poorly    educated;     indeed,     pride     in     being    a 


74 


HARPERS     MAGAZINE 


"mathematical  moron"  tends  to  be  the  distinc- 
tive snobbery  of  the  otherwise  highly  educated 
person. 

There  is  no  other  ana  <>l  human  knowledge 
or  a<ti\ii\  where  we  have  this  peculiar  situa- 
tion. The  "naturals.''  ol  course,  cannot  under- 
stand what  happens;  indeed,  the)  usuallv  refuse 
to  believe  that  it  dots  happen.  And  since,  after 
all,  mathematics  lias  to  be  taught  l>\  mathema- 
ticians, that  is,  by  former  "naturals,"  the  prob- 
lem has  gone  unperceived  and  unresolved  for 
all  the  three  hundred  years  since  mathematics 
first  became  a  secondary-school  subject. 

W  II  Y     WE     FAIL 

Till,  layman,  especial!)  i!  he  finds  himself 
a  "substitute  math  teacher"  can  only  ask 
one  question:  We  teach  other  subject  success- 
full)  so  that  those  who  work  hard  and  do  well 
in  their  studies  really  learn  something.  Is  there 
anything  in  the  way  we  teach  mathematics  that 
is  so  different   as   to  account    lor  our   failure? 

The  answer  is  "Yes";  in  at  least  three  aspects 
the  traditional  approach  to  mathematics  teach- 
ing has   been    unique. 

it  Mathematics,  first,  is  being  taught  con- 
trary t<>  its  own  spirit  mill  genius  as  defined 
by   the  mathematicians   themselves. 

Every  mathematician  asserts  that  mathematics 
is  a  conceptual  order,  a  formal  and  general 
logic,  a  way  of  finding  and  defining  universal 
relationships.  When  we  say  "mathematics"  the 
mathematician  may  think,  for  example,  of  the 
elegance  and  sweeping  power  of  the  concept  of 
function:  in  any  relationship  between  two  phe- 
nomena either  one  can  be  expressed,  analyzed, 
studied,  and  even  predicted  as  an  extension  of 
the  other.  The  phenomena  may  be  animal 
species  in  an  environment;  the  mortality  rate 
of  human  beings  of  different  ages  dying  from 
a  multitude  of  unrelated  causes;  or  the  prices 
of  a  great  number  of  goods  produced  by  hun- 
dreds of  businesses  and  bought  by  millions  of 
people.  The  relationship  may  be  causal  or  mere 
probability  of  coincidence;  it  may  be  continuous, 
frequent,  or  rare;  simultaneous  or  widely  apart 
in  time  or  space;  certain,  probable,  or  only 
possible.  All  this  is  said  in  the  simple  mathe- 
matical "sentence"  on  the  mathematician's 
blackboard: 

x  —  f(n) 

Or  the  mathematician  may  think  of  that  great 
feat  of  logical  imagination  that  lies  behind 
the    simple:    "Let's    assume    that    instead    of    an 


infinite  number  of  numbers,  there  are  only  a 
few,  s.i\  only  two— zero  and  one,  no  and  yes,  off 
and  on"— the  postulate  on  which,  for  instance, 
( omputer  design  rests. 

Hut  all  we  (each  aie  manipulations;  and  we 
teach  them  as  manipulations.  Some  time,  around 
eighth  or  ninth  grade,  a  teacher  is  likely  to 
tell  his  students  (hat  what  matters  is  to  set 
up  the  equation  rather  than  to  get  the  "right 
answer."  II  students  really  learned  what  this 
nu  ans,  the)  would  have  learned  the  essence  ol 
mathematics— and  ol  logic,  decision-making,  and 
s\siein,ni(  research.  But  the  aphorism  is  lately 
explained,  and  little  work  is  being  done  on 
setting  up  equations— the  emphasis  is  on  the 
manipulation  alter  the  equation  is  set  up,  the 
grades  are  lot  "right  answers."  Similarly,  few 
high  school  or  college  students  hear  of  the  age- 
old  problem  that  underlies  the  integral  calculus, 
or  grasp  its  basic  fiction  ol  motion  as  consisting 
ol  an  infinite  series  of  infinitely  small  resting 
points;  all  they  learn  is  how  to  manipulate  the 
formulas    in    the    textbook. 

if  And,  second,  mathematics  is  the  only 
scientifit  discipline  that  is  being  taught  as  past 
history. 

The  traditional  secondary-school  curriculum 
both  here  and  in  Europe  does  not  include  any 
mathematics  developed  after  the  early  1700s. 
This  is  as  if  we  taught  the  medicine  ol  Moliere's 
doctors  with  their  "four  humors"  and  ended, 
with  Harvey's  discovery  of  the  circulation  of 
the  blood;  as  if  we  concluded  chemistry  with 
Priestley's  discovery  ol  oxygen;  as  if  we  focused 
on  the  lever  and  the  inclined  plane  in  our 
physics  and  just  mentioned,  at  the  very  end, 
Galileo's   experiments  with   free-falling  weights. 

The  comparison  is  not  unfair.  The  last  three 
hundred  years  have  been,  except  for  the  very 
earliest  Greek  days,  the  really  productive  period 
of  mathematics.  Modern  mathematics  begins, 
by  and  large,  where  school  mathematics  stops. 
The  basic  concepts,  theories,  and  techniques 
ol  modern  mathematics  have  all  been  developed 
since.  Above  all,  the  vision  ol  mathematics  as 
a  system  of  formal  logic  and  as  "language  of  num- 
bers" has  only  dawned  in  the  last   150  years. 

Also,  if  mathematics  is  a  scientific  discipline, 
its  historical  development  must  have  gone  from 
the  complicated  to  the  simple,  from  the  specific 
and  isolated  to  the  general.  This  has  indeed 
been  the  case.  Modern  "higher"  mathematics 
is  inherently  neither  "easier"  nor  "more  diffi- 
cult" than  the  ancient  (and  partly  obsolete) 
mathematics  the  schools  teach.   But  it  is  simpler 


MATH  EVEN  PARENTS  CAN  UNDERSTAND 


75 


—it  has,  so  to  speak,  fewer  moving  parts,  and 
they  are  bigger.  There  are  about  twenty-five 
basic  abstractions  needed  for  the  understanding 
of  Euclidian  geometry— the  simplest  of  the  old 
arts.  All  one  has  to  understand  to  grasp  Set 
Theory  is  the  simple  statement  that  any  collec- 
tion—of things,  of  ideas,  of  events— can  somehow 
be  ordered. 

Indeed,  the  traditional  mathematics  we  teach 
is  the  most  difficult  of  all  things  to  learn:  half- 
way abstractions,  neither  sufficiently  concrete  to 
be  learned  by  experience,  nor  sufficiently  abstract 
to  be  comprehended  by  the  sudden  flash  of 
mental    insight. 

ir  Finally,  mathematics,  alone  of  all  disci- 
plines, is  being  taught  as  a  bunch  of  unrelated 
specialties. 

There  is  no  mathematics  as  such  in  our 
schools;  there  are  algebra  and  geometry  and 
trigonometry,  each  by  itself.  This  is  not  true 
of  the  elementary  mathematical  operations  we 
teach— and  with  a  high  degree  of  success— in 
primary  school.  Addition  leads  logically  to  sub- 
traction, and  the  two  together  to  multiplication 
and  division  which,  in  turn,  "feed  back"  to 
addition  and  subtraction.  But  beyond  this 
there  are,  as  far  as  the  student  can  tell,  only 
isolated  skills,  unconnected  with  each  other. 

Five  hundred  years  ago  this  was  an  accurate 
picture  of  mathematics.  But  it  is  the  great 
achievement  of  modern  mathematics  to  have 
overcome  the  ancient  isolation  of  "arithmetic" 
from  "geometry"  and  to  have  created  instead  a 
unified  discipline  of  mathematics.  To  this  it 
owes  much  of  its  importance  and  impact. 

The  near-collapse  of  mathematics  teaching  in 
this  country's  high  schools  has  many  causes;  in 
many  schools  we  are  not  doing  a  particularly 
distinguished  job,  after  all,  in  disciplines  we 
can  teach  like  the  reading  and  writing  of  Eng- 
lish or  history.  But  the  reaction  against  three 
hundred  years  of  teaching  manipulation  rather 
than  mathematics  is  certainly  a  major  element; 
it  may  be  the  main  reason  why  parents,  having 
themselves  not  learned  much  in  their  own  math 
classes,  have  encouraged  school  boards  to  make 
math  "optional"  and  their  children  to  shun 
the  option.  It  would  be  a  very  great  pity  if  the 
new— and  overdue— emphasis  on  mathematics  in 
high  school  and  college  were  simply  to  restore 
the  traditional  approach,  were  simply  to  bring 
us  five  or  six  instead  of  two  or  three  years  of 
manipulation  and  misdirection.  We  need,  very 
badly  need,  a  mathematically  literate  country; 
we  will  not  get  it  by  doing  more  of  what  three 


centuries  of  experience  have  proved  to  be  in- 
effectual—no matter  how  much  money  we  pour 
into   "crash  programs." 

HOW     TO     MAKE     IT     FUN 

AL  L  along,  however,  there  have  been  signs 
that  young  people  can  learn  mathematics, 
can  indeed  enjoy  learning  it,  if  it  is  taught  as 
mathematics  rather  than  as  manipulation,  as 
concept  and  way  of  thinking  rather  than  as 
application.  And  for  the  first  time  mathema- 
ticians in  this  country  are  trying  to  do  just  that 
—and  with  great  success. 

The  initial  push  came  from  "substitute  math 
teachers,"  laymen  who  suddenly  realized  seven 
or  eight  years  ago,  that,  though  highly  educated, 
they  themselves  had  never  learned  math  and  had 
forgotten  even  the  little  they  once  were  taught. 
Unlike  the  rest  of  us,  these  "substitute  math 
teachers"  were  in  a  position  to  do  something; 
for  they  were  officers  of  two  major  educational 
foundations,  the  Carnegie  Corporation  and  the 
College  Entrance  Examination  Board. 

Under  the  auspices  of  Carnegie,  Professor  Max 
Beberman  of  the  University  of  Illinois  has,  since 
1951,  been  working  on  a  program  of  high-school 
mathematics  that  starts  with  basic  mathematical 
abstractions— such  as  "number"  or  "set"— and 
follows  them  right  through  whether  they  lead 
into  arithmetic,  algebra,  or  geometry.  This  for 
instance  brings  analytical  geometry  into  the 
ninth  grade  rather  than  into  the  freshman  year 
at  college;  it  brings  "postulate  systems"— the 
essence  of  modern  mathematics  but  taught 
usually  only  to  graduate  students— into  the  tenth- 
grade  curriculum.  Some  1,700  youngsters  have 
worked  under  this  program  by  now;  the  first 
batch  entered  college  this  fall.  The  program  has 
been  officially  adopted  by  seven  schools  in  Illi- 
nois and  by  high  schools  in  St.  Louis  and  in  two 
Boston  suburbs,  and  it  is  spreading  so  rapidly 
to  other  places  that  it  threatens  to  get  out  of 
Beberman 's  control. 

Math  is  still  "optional"  in  these  schools.  But 
where  most  children  even  in  the  college-prepara- 
tory programs  drop  math  after  two  years,  most 
children  in  the  Beberman  program  voluntarily 
take  it  all  four  years.  More  important  even: 
though  designed  for  the  youngsters  in  the 
college-preparatory  courses,  students  in  the  other 
"non-academic  programs"  are  demanding  the 
Beberman  course,  are  enthusiastic  about  it,  and 
learn  as  much  as  their  supposedly  brighter  col- 
leagues. And  in  Cambridge,  Massachusetts,  the 
employees  of  the  Polaroid  Corporation,  hearing 


PUTTING  SCIENCE  TO  WORK  FOR  EVERY  CITIZEN 


Can  US.  technology 

meet  today's 
new  challenges? 


World  events  are  putting  the  very  idea  of  a 
free  society  to  the  test. 

Not  only  has  Russia  demonstrated  "islands 
of  excellence"  in  selected  areas  of  military  tech- 
nology, but.  in  addition,  Soviet  leaders  have  de- 
clared that  they  are  determined  to  surpass 
present  American  standards  of  production  and 
consumption  in  the  next  10  \ears. 

These  challenges  can  no  longer  be  dismissed 
as  empty  propaganda.  This  country  must  un- 
leash all  its  creative  and  productive  forces  to 
achieve  new  levels  of  defense,  and.  at  the  same 
time,  move  ahead  to  new  levels  of  productivity 
in  our  ci\  ilian  econom) . 

In  the  United  States,  progress  is  paced  and 
directed  by  the  individual  decisions  of  millions 
of  businessmen,  consumers,  investors,  employ- 
ees—indeed, every  citizen.  The  faith  of  our  free 
society  is  that  these  millions  of  points  of  ini- 
tiative can  —  and  will  —  produce  swifter  prog- 
ress, with  greater  liberty,  than  any  system  of 
centralized  control.  Because  of  this  environment 
of  freedom  and  initiative,  the  nation's  scientific 
and  engineering  resources  have  the  capability 
for  both  better  defense  and  better  living. 

However,  in  applying  our  technology  to  the 
task,  we  must  infuse— especially  in  defense  work 
—  even  more  of  the  incentives  for  bold  and 
imaginative  risk-taking  that  have  been  the  well- 
spring  of  our  civilian  progress.  These  incentives 
are  needed,  particularly  in  the  fields  of  research 
and  development,  if  we  are  to  achieve  the  tech- 
nological breakthroughs  necessary  now  and  in 
the  years  ahead. 

And  in  every  phase  of  our  economy,  we  must 
eliminate  road  blocks  to  higher  productivity.  It 
is  extremely  disturbing  that  national  productiv- 
ity has  leveled  off  at  the  very  time  an  increase 
is  most  needed  to  meet  new  world  challenges. 

Americans  must  prove  once  again  that  our 
free  society  has  vitalities  which  are  superior  to 
those  of  any  totalitarian  s\stem.  On  these  pages 
are  shown  some  of  the  ways  that  one  company, 
among  many,  is  trying  to  help  bring  America 
both  a  stronger  defense  and  ever-higher  levels 
of  living. 


Progress  Is  Our  Most  Important  Product 

GENERAL  A  ELECTRIC 


Penetrating  outer  space.  General  Electric  is  a  major  eontrl 
utur  to  16  missile  projects  now  under  way.  These  include  n 
Atlas,  Thor,  Regulus  II.  Polaris.  Corporal,  Nike  Hercules,  Hon^ 
John  and  Little  John,  Lacrosse,  Talos,  Tartar,  Asroc.  Sid 
winder,  and  Vanguard  as  well  as  other  high-priority  progranj 


Giant  power  maker.   Another  significant  advance  in  help 
keep  electricity  today's  greatest  bargain  is  a  General  ELec 
steam  turbine-generator  that  operates  at  the  highest  steam 
ditions  ever  used  in  America.  It  generates  18  times  as  m 
electricity  from  a  pound  of  coal  as  Thomas  Edison's  first  plJ 


Power  for  peace.  General  Electric's  J-79  jet  engine  power? 
new  B-58  supersonic  bomber  (above),  the  F-104A  and  Fill 
fighters,  and  the  Regulus  II  missile,  plus  other  new  aircraft 
yet  announced.  A  commercial  version  of  this  jet  engine 
be  used  on  some  of  the  leading  civilian  airlines  in  the  ful'1 


}rogress  Report  from  General  Electric 


j  better  electrically.  Today  a  housewife  commands  the 
alent  in  electrical  energy  of  45  servants;  by  1967  it  can  be 
than  100.  The  trend  is  toward  more  automatic  operations, 
example:  General  Electric's  Filter-Flo8  washer  that  sets 
conditions  for  each  type  of  fabric  at  the  push  of  a  button. 


Progress  in  electronics.  General  Electric  is  developing  slow-scan 
TV  over  telephone  lines  for  military  application.  This  is  just  one 
example  of  the  growing  use  of  electronics  for  defense.  In  civilian 
fields,  engineers  estimate  that  40%  of  the  electronic  products  that 
will  be  in  use  ten  years  from  now  have  not  yet  been  invented. 


private  atomic  electricity.  Last  year  General  Electric  re- 
1  Power  Reactor  License  #1  to  operate  the  nation's  first 
:ely  owne-d  atomic  power  plant  with  the  Pacific  Gas  & 
:ic  Co.  In  addition,  the  company  conducts  a  substantial 
"ch  program  to  study  the  problem  of  harnessing  fusion. 


Research  in  energy  conversion.  The  General  Electric  Research 
Laboratory  recently  demonstrated  an  experimental  thermionic 
converter  which  changes  heat  directly  into  electricity.  It  is  just 
one  example  of  the  company's  continuing  research  and  develop- 
ment to  find  even  better  methods  of  utilizing  energy  sources. 


wols  for  medicine.  General  Electric,  working  with  Atomic 
y  of  Canada,  Ltd..  now  offers  a  simpler  cobalt-60  cancer- 
lent  machine  which  is  as  flexible  as  x-ray.  In  addition,  an 
mental  diagnostic  x-ray  machine,  operating  at  8  times  the 
itional  voltage,  may  help  in  early  discovery  of  cancer. 


Protecting  our  cities.  One  example  of  General  Electric's  contri- 
butions to  the  strong,  alert  defense  needed  to  guard  America  is 
a  new,  more  accurate  search  and  height-finder  radar  system. 
This  radar  system  can  seek  out  enemy  aircraft  for  the  "Missile 
Master,"  which  coordinates  the  fire  of  guided-missile  batteries. 


78 


HARPER'S     M  A  G  A  Z  I  N  E 


about  the  program  front  their  children,  have 
organized  their  own  adult  math  com  sis  around 
it,  which  |>l.i\  to  full  houses  with  standing 
room  only. 

The  project  of  the  College  Entrance  Exami- 
nation Board  is  less  ambitious.  Headed  by 
eminent  mathematicians,  it  aims  at  reorgan- 
izing the  present  curriculum  rather  than  al 
developing  a  new  one.  But  the  general  approach 
is  the  same.  And  Lately  other  influential  mathe- 
maticians have  joined  the  search  for  a  new 
approach  to  mathematics  teaching.  Dr.  Howard 
Fehr  of  Teachers  College.  Columbia,  is  one;  Dr. 
(..  Bale)  Price,  now  President  of  the  Mathe- 
matical Association  ol  America,  is  another. 
\oi  is  this  work  confined  to  high  school  mathe- 
matics. Some  mathematicians,  such  as  Professor 
Albert  W.  Tuckei  "I  Princeton,  believe  that  the 
teaching  ol  mathematical  concepts  could— and 
should  slut  in  giacle  school;  and  there  are 
several  new  textbooks  for  college  freshmen  such 
as  Introduction  to  Mathematical  Thought  by 
Stablei,  and  Principles  oj  Mathematics  by  Allcn- 
doerfer  and   Oakley,   which   present   the  "new" 


mathematics  ol  concepts  rather  than  the  tra- 
ditional mathematics  ol  manipulation. 

Every  editorial  writer,  since  Sputnik,  has  told 
us  that  we  are  the  mathematical  illiterates 
among  literate  peoples.  It  is  cold  comfort  that 
the  others,  including  the  Russians,  are  ahead 
ol  us  only  in  respect  to  the  mathematics  thev 
teach,  and  are  almost  certainly  no  better  oil  in 
respect  to  the  mathematics  they  learn.  But 
precisely  because  our  situation  has  gotten  so 
bad  that  the  bankruptcy  ol  the  traditional  teach- 
ing ol  mathematics  could  no  longer  be  hidden, 
we  may  be  able  to  leapfrog  into  a  position  of 
leadership  in  which  math  is  learned  with  ex- 
citement, discipline,  understanding,  and  impact 
by  the  average  youngster,  rather  than  being  ac- 
cessible only  to  the  lew  "naturals." 

1  realize  this  would  throw  out  of  work  several 
millions  ol  "substitute  math  teachers."  And 
many  ol  us  will  demand  severance  pay:  a 
chance  ourselves  to  learn  what  lor  three 
hundred  years  we  and  our  predecessors  have 
painfully,  incompetently,  and  ineffectually 
pretended    to    teach. 


TURN   ABOUT   IS   FAIR   PLAY 


Department    of    English 
October,   Any  Year 
Dear  Coach  Mussel  man: 

Remembering  our  discussions  of  your  football  men  who  are  having  troubles 
in  English,  I  have  decided  to  ask  you,  in  turn,  for  help. 

We  feel  that  Paul  Spindles,  one  of  our  most  promising  scholars,  has  a  chance 
for  a  Rhodes  Scholarship,  which  would  be  a  great  thing  for  him  and  for  our 
college.  Paul  has  the  academic  record  for  this  award  but  we  find  that  the 
aspirant  is  also  required  to  have  other  excellences,  and  ideally  should  have  a 
good  record  in  athletics.  Paul  is  weak.  He  tries  hard,  but  he  has  trouble  in 
athletics. 

We  propose  that  you  give  some  special  consideration  to  Paul  as  a  varsity 
player,  putting  him,  if  possible,  in  the  backfield  of  the  football  team.  In  this 
way,  we  can  show  a  better  college  record  to  the  committee  deciding  on  the 
Rhodes  Scholarships.  We  realize  that  Paul  will  be  a  problem  on  the  field,  but 
—as  you  have  often  said— co-operation  between  our  department  and  yours  is 
highly  desirable  and  we  do  expect  Paul  to  try  hard,  of  course.  During  intervals 
of  study  we  shall  coach  him  as  much  as  we  can.  His  work  in  English  Club  and  on 
the  debate  team  will  force  him  to  miss  many  practices,  but  we  intend  to  see  that 
he  carries  an  old  football  around  to  bounce  (or  whatever  one  does  with  a  loot- 
ball)  during  intervals  in  his  work.  We  expect  Paul  to  show  entire  good  will  in 
his  work  for  you,  and  though  he  will  not  be  able  to  begin  football  practice  till 
late  in  the  season,  he  will  finish  the  season  with  good  attendance. 

Benjamin  Plotinus 
Chairman,  English  Department 

—By  Professor  William  E.  Stafford,  College  English,  April  1955. 


oam  the  South  Seas  in  Spring        go 


lay  a  thrilling  yacht-like  voyage  to  Poly- 
jan  isles  and  enchanting  lands  down- 
er. Matson  is  the  way  to  go  .  .  .  Spring 
|  perfect  time.  Weather's  at  its  glorious 
l|  all  along  the  route.  Every  3  weeks  the 
■  Jern,  air-conditioned  mariposa  or 
I;  "JTerey  sails  from  California  on  an  ad- 
>  turous  course  to  Tahiti,  New  Zealand, 


Australia,  Fiji,  Samoa  and  Hawaii  ...  a 
42-day  tonic  of  rest,  relaxation  and  fun. 
Superb  cuisine,  service  and  entertainment 
—  all  the  world-famed  traditions  of  Matson 
travel  — add  immeasurably  to  your  enjoy- 
ment. All  rooms  in  First  Class,  all  with  pri- 
vate bath.  Round -trip  fares  from  $1035. 
See  your  Travel  Agent  now. 


THE    SMART    WAY    TO 

NEW  ZEALAND 
^AUSTRALIA 

I  .on   Lines    •    The   Oceanic   Steamship    Company    •    Offices:    New  York,    Chicago,    San    Francisco,    Seattle,    Portland,    Los   Angeles,    Honolulu 


After  Hours 


A    DAY    WITH 


TODAY 


EVERY  weekday  morning  at 
the  impossible  hour  of  three 
o'clock  a  teleprompter  typist  comes 
to  the  RCA  Exhibition  Hall  on  49th 
Street  in  New  York.  He  is  the  first 
to  arrive.  Across  the  street  in  the 
NBC  offices  a  news  staff  has  been  at 
work  since  midnight,  preparing  films 
and  scripts  that  will  be  needed  later 
in  the  morning.  Around  four-thirty, 
depending  on  rehearsal  time,  the 
director  and  associate  directors  turn 
up;  and  toward  five  they  have  begun 
a  run-through  of  the  routine-sheets, 
a  minutes-and-seconds  schedule  of 
the  three  hours'  job  ahead  of  them. 
The  stars  and  various  guests  will 
be  appearing  between  five-thirty  and 
six.  At  seven  the  "Today"  show, 
NBC's  morning  television  program 
with  Dave  Garroway,  goes  on  the  air. 
The  run-through  takes  place  down 
in  the  well  of  a  ramp  and  staircase 
leading  to  the  Johnny  Victor  theater, 
a  tiny  auditorium  normally  used 
for  screenings  and  press  conferences 
and  such.  Here  in  the  half-pint 
lobby  two  tables  have  been  set  up, 
one  for  the  meeting  and  the  other 
for  coffee  and  buns.  Off  the  stair- 
case in  a  darkened  room  about  the 
size  of  a  broom  closet  is  the  tangle 
of  the  show's  technical  apparatus— 
the  sharp,  clear  rectangles  of  the 
monitors  and  the  green  glow  of 
oscilloscopes.  Down  the  hall  are 
washrooms,  make-up  rooms,  and  a 
lounge  for  guests. 

At  the  table  the  director  for  this 
morning,  Dennis  Kane,  is  reeling  off 
instructions  in  obscure,  professional 
lingo:    "Relieve    two    with    one    to 


bring  two  back  .  .  .  we're  going  to 
set  the  trio  half  on  the  outhouse 
wall  .  .  .  Dave  will  kiss  her  off  .  .  . 
in  other  words,  the  trio  sandwiches 
the  weather  package.  .  .  ." 

In  a  corner  two  technicians  are 
playing  chess. 

Upstairs  is  the  familiar  room  you 
see  each  day  on  the  screen,  with  its 
high  glass  wall  lacing  the  street, 
its  bright  lights  hanging  overhead, 
its  clocks  and  telephones  and  battery 
of  cameras.  What  would  surprise 
you  most  is  how  small  and  cluttered 
it  is.  The  camera  makes  it  seem 
vast  and  organized,  but  in  fact  it 
is  cramped  and  untidy.  People  are 
always  getting  in  one  another's  way, 
even  while  the  show  is  on;  and, 
coming  in  and  out,  the  celebrity- 
guests  have  to  duck  under  cameras 
and  be  careful  not  to  trip  over 
cables. 

An  hour  before  show-time  every- 
thing seems  chaotic.  It  is  still  dark 
outside;  the  few  passers-b)  have  the 
wan  and  harried  look  of  the  city 
night  still  on  them.  Here  in  the 
pool  of  light  musicians  are  going 
through  their  numbers;  by  the  win- 
dow a  production  man,  arms  flail- 
ing the  air,  is  pulling  apart  the 
carbons  of  the  teleprompter  sheets; 
at  the  big  curved  desk,  with  his 
jacket  off,  Dave  Garroway  is  read- 
ing through  the  script,  rehearsing 
commercials,  mugging  into  the  cam- 
era, scowling  and  bugging  his  eyes. 

THE  "Today"  show,  now  in  its 
seventh  year,  is  something  very 
close  to  a  national  institution.  It  is 
watched  daily  by  an  estimated  nine 
million  people,  having  long  dis- 
proved the  assumption  that  a  profit- 


able morning  audience  for  TV  doe 
not  exist.  The  program  change 
constantly,  yet  always  within  a  stricj 
and  disciplined  form.  It  can  da 
with  nearly  any  subject,  with  cithe 
high  seriousness  or  high  coined' 
and  the  show  itself  can  physical] 
be  picked  up,  moved,  and  broaden 
from  any  city  where  there  is  a] 
affiliated  station  of  the  network.  | 
has  even  created  a  new  New  Yoi 
folkway:  visitors  from  out-of-tow 
come  each  morning  to  press  the 
noses  against  the  window,  hold  u 
signs  identifying  themselves,  ar 
wave   to   the   folks   back   home. 

The  "Today"  formula  is  bur 
around  news,  weather,  interview 
music,  and  a  chimpanzee.  It  intc 
weaves  these  elements  and  hoi 
them  together  through  the  b;! 
anced  personalities  of  its  regul 
performers— Helen  O'Connell,  Fraii 
Blair,  and  Jack  Lescoulie— and  tl 
tone  set  by  Garroway  himself,  whi 
is  one  of  adult  wit  and  curiosii 
There  is  a  schedule,  and  there  a 
scripts,  but  there  is  also  a  gre 
deal  of  extemporizing— and  a  cc 
tain  amount  of  pure  tomfoolery 
that  give  "Today"  its  characteris 
lift  and  informality.  It  is  almost  rj 
possible  for  anything  to  go  wro 
that  the  show  cannot  take  in 
stride.  While  I  was  there  w:atchi 
—with  the  kind  permission  of  t 
general  manager,  John  Lynch— the 
was  a  goof  more  colossal  than 
dared  hope,  and  the  way  it  w 
handled  is  typical  of  "Today's"  go 
humor  about  itself. 

The  day  was  Valentine's  Day,  a 
the    show    opened    with    a    rec 
playing,  "Look  Out,  Look  Out, 
jimmy  Valentine,"  while  Garrow 


AFTER     HOURS 

supposed  to  rob  a  wall  safe  with 
alentine  in  it  reading,  "Phfft!" 
is  worked  fine  the  first  time,  and 

second  (for  the  opening  of  the 
d  hour,  which  goes  to  stations 
.he  later  time-belts)  the  suspense 
1  even  greater,  but— safe  opened, 
valentine.  Garroway  let  out  a 
—"We've  robbed  an  empty  safe!" 
id  promptly  the  camera  swung 
and  behind  the  scenery  where, 
ding  up  the  flimsy  fake  wall  with 
i  hand,  was  the  production  as- 
tnt  who'd  forgotten  to  put  the 
:ntine  back,  his  head  buried  in 
other  arm,  a  figure  of  the  most 
>ct  misery.  Everyone  in  the  place 

laughing  hopelessly.  It  was  of 
■rse  wonderful,  totally  lacking  in 
nness,  and  better  than  anything 
i  could  have  planned. 

FACT,  the  preparations  for 
"Today"  show  meld  almost  in- 
inguishably  into  the  show  itself, 
pie  go  right  on  talking  and  drop- 
|  things.  About  fifteen  minutes 
>re  the  fatal  hour  of  seven,  how- 
,  the  atmosphere  of  offhanded- 

begins  subtly  to  tighten.  The 
era  cables  are  snaked  back  into 
mblance  of  order;  there  is  sur- 
itious  straightening,  combing, 
;ing  of  ties;  and  the  girls  ap- 
,  transformed,  in  their  make-up. 
omo,  Jr.,  the  chimpanzee,  has 
1   petted,    cajoled,    scolded,    and 

d  at  his  own  diminutive  desk 
Nick  Carrado,  his  owner  and 
ler.    One   minute    to    go.     Out- 

the  sun  is  up  at  last,  picking 

the  corners  of  buildings  and 
faces  of  the  crowd  collected  at 
window.  "Thirty  seconds!"  Now 
ything  is  bent  toward  the  all- 
lg  eye.  One  last  directorial 
it:  "I  want  quiet,  decorum  .  .  . 

some  light." 

)r  one  other  quality  that  Gar- 

ly  and   his   colleagues   have,   as 

must,  is  automatic  and  immedi- 
rapport  with  the  camera.    They 

not  different  people  off-stage 
i  on,  but  on-stage  they  are 
)ly  a  little  larger  than  life,  a 
!  more  fully  projected.  The 
'ision  camera  has  this  curious 
>ensity    to    theatricalize   what   is 

in    front    of    it,    softening    the 

»,    sharpening     the     highlights, 

dusting  everything  with  glamor. 
)le    look    better    dressed     than 

are,  scenery  looks  more  solid. 


For  travel  pleasure 
beyond  compare 


PIAZZA  S.   MARCO-VENICE 


Italy  will  delight  you  this  summer  .  .  .  her  exciting  cities  and  charming  old  towns  .  .  . 
her  lovely  seaside,  lake  and  mountain  resorts  .  .  .  her  art  treasures  and  summer 
festivals  .  .  .  all  offer  you  a  vacation  of  fascinating  variety.  Excellent  accommodations 
are  available  to  fit  any  budget  .  .  .  the  food  is  superb  .  .  .  transportation  inexpensive 
.  .  .  shopping  a  delight.  Luxurious  motor  coaches  provide  low-cost  tours  throughout 
Italy  .  .  .  domestic  air  rates  are  economical .  .  .  15  and  30-day  rail  tickets  permit 
unlimited  travel.  And  special  coupons  procure  gas  at  reduced  prices  if  you  take 
your  own  car.  A   wonderful  holiday  awaits  you  in  Italy  this  summer — 

see  your    Travel  Agent  now! 

INCLUSIVE  TOURS 

sold  only  through  Travel  Agents,  make  available 

SPECIAL  REDUCED  RATES 

for  transatlantic  transportation  and  other  facilities  in  Italy. 

ITALIAN  STATE  TOURIST  OFFICE-E.  N.  I.  T. 

21  East  51  si  Street,  New  York  22,  N.Y. 

CHICAGO— 333  N.  Michigan  Ave. 
NEW  ORLEANS— International  Trade  Mart 
__  SAN  FRANCISCO— St.  Francis  Hole! m^^^mhmh^^hbmbmm 


VIEWS  UNLIMITED!  Towering  high  above  ex- 
clusive Beekman  Hill,  our  rooms  command 
superb  views  of  the  East  River,  U.N.  and  the 
New  York  skyline.  Your  dollar  still  buys  a  lQt 
of  good  living  here.  Singles  from  $7.50 


WRITE  FOR  BOOKLET  HA 


Jieekman  cJt 


ower 


I0P  0' THE 
TOWER 

cocktail hoTFL 

-LOUNGE -  t\\J  I  E.L. 

\jijf        49IM  ST.  AT  EAST  RIVER.  NEW  YORK   17.  N.Y. 


ENJOY  A  COOL,  COLORFUL 


VACATION 


HEADQUARTERS 


for  the  numerous  cultural  and  musi- 
cal events  in  Aspen — two  swimming 
pools,  superb  cuisine,  riding,  tennis, 
fishing,  dancing,  scenic  trip  on  world 
famous  ski  lift.  Write  for  FREE  four 
color  booklet. 


HOTEL  JEROME  •  rJ^d/t^n  iJ/eadcevt 

ASPEN  23,  COLORADO 


82 


AFTER     HOURS 


The  RCA  Exhibition  Hall,  with  all 
respect,  is  a  fairly  shabby  place- 
there  are  fingermarks  on  the  walls, 
cracks  in  the  cabinet  work,  dirt, 
chalk,  bits  ol  old  string,  and  waste- 
paper  all  over  the  floor.  But  the 
camera  does  nol  see  it  that  way. 
This  is  the  "Today"  show,  and  it 
comes  wrapped  in  the  magic  ol 
network    television. 

By  a  quarter  to  ten  the  hall  had 
thinned  out.  leaving  only  those  who 
needed  to  be  there;  and  a  half-hour 
alter  the  show  ended  there  was  the 
legular  production  meeting  in  John 
Lynch's  office  high  in  the  RKO 
building  nearby,  to  go  over  past 
mistakes  and  future  plans.  The 
stars  and  producers  and  writers  sat 
around  kidding,  arguing,  and  re- 
gretting that  Jack  Lescoulie  had 
not  been  there  this  morning.   It  had 


been  a  Friday.  He  has  a  lingering. 
grateful  wa\  of  saving  "Fri-i-i-i-i-i- 
day,"  as  though  he  had  hardly  been 
able  to  last  out  the  week.  On  the 
program.  Garroway  had  explained 
that  Lescoulie  had  a  bug.  but  now 
someone  said,  "He  had  the  flu.  He 
flew   to  Puerto  Rico." 

The)  went  on  post-morteming  the. 
program,  especially  the  missing  val- 
entine: "It  was  a  goof,  but  it  didn't 
work  out  as  a  goof."  Ja'<  Hein. 
the  producer,  came  in  and  stood 
leaning  against  the  window  until 
John  Lynch  finally  said.  "II  I  had 
a  bell  I  would  ring  it."  and  the) 
got  down  to  business.  "I  wasn  t 
there  but  I  watched  it."  said  Hein. 
"It  was  a  good  show,  a  good  swing- 
ing show." 

And  they  all  went  on  to  talk  about 
next  week. 


/yyvn^r" 


IF     YOU    RE 
GOING     TO     PARIS 


THERE  are  very  few  cities 
in  the  world  where  it  is  pos- 
sible for  the  gustatorially  restless 
to  sample  the  best  foods  of  a  whole 
nation  without  leaving  the  city 
limits.  In  New  York  or  San  Fran- 
cisco for  example,  you  can  find  all 
sorts  of  excellent  European  and 
Asian  cookery,  but  just  try  to  find 
good  Southern,  or  Southwestern 
cooking  (nobody  wants  New  Eng- 
land cooking-except  lobsters-any- 
way).  But  in  Paris  (ah,  Paris)  it's 
different. 

In  a  book  called  The  Food  of 
France  by  Waverley  Root  (which 
Knopf  is  publishing  this  month) 
there  is  an  appendix  entitled  "How- 
to  Tour  the  Provinces  without  Leav- 
ing Paris."  In  it  Mr.  Root  lists  and 
describes  about  sixty  restaurants  (of 
the    8.000    in    Paris)    that    specialize 


in  provincial  cookery.  With  his  per- 
mission we  have  selected  the  ones 
that  seem  to  us  most  mouth-water- 
ing. If  you  are  not  going  to  Paris, 
at  least  you  can  dream. 

Alsace 

Kuntz,  near  the  Gare  de  I'Est, 
is  the  best  Alsatian  restaurant  in 
France— an  exception  to  the  rule 
that  the  best  eating  is  always  on 
home  territory.  Unpretentious  in 
appearance,  it  is  moderate  in  price. 
I  always  seem  to  choose  the  same 
menu  here-pdte  de  foie  gras,  potee 
of  red  beans  rich  in  sausages,  pork 
and  such,  and  Riesling  de  Ribeau- 
ville   for   the  wine. 


Anjou 

Chez  la  Mere  Michel,  5,  rue  Ren- 
nequin,  is  rather  tucked  away  and 
not  too  easy  to  find  for  strangers 
to  Paris.  From  the  Etoile  follow  the 
avenue  Wagram   through    the   Place 


des    Ternes,    alter   which    it    is    f 
second    street    to    the   left.    This 
the   place   to   try   that   top  special 
ol  the  Anjou.  pike  with  the  beur 
blanc   sauce   invented    there. 

Basque 

Saint-Jean  Pied  de  Fort,  V.\ 
avenue  Wagram,  is  the  best  BasqJ 
restaurant  in  Paris.  It  is  also! 
comparatively  expensive  one,  tl 
worth  it.  Not  only  is  pipemdA 
specialty,  but  there  is  also  the  Sp;J 
ish  paella,  which  appears  on  t| 
menus  of  a  number  ol  Basque  ij 
taurants  in  Paris,  though  I  do  r 
ice  all  ever  encountering  it  on  j 
French  side  of  the  frontier  in  i 
Basque  Country  itself. 

Brittany 

Toullig  ar   C'hrampouez.   If  J 
can  stand  the  utmost  in  simplic 
walk    down     the    boulevard    Sai 
Germain    to    the    rue    Gregoire 
Toms,  ducking  at  Number   11   i 
the  first  doorway  adorned  with 
sign  Crepes.  This  will  be  easier  tl 
looking  for  the  name  of  the  ph 
which   is   Breton   for   "At   the   Sj 
ol  the  Good  Pancake."    Breton  pi 
cakes  will  be  the  only  thing  ser\T 
and    you    should    drink    cider    w 
them.    This  comes   under   the  h 
of  slumming,  but  the  crepes  are  g« 
—also  heavy. 

Burgundy 

Chez  Allard,  47,  rue  Saint-AmJ 
running  off  the  little  square  of 
same  name  just  behind  the  Pi 
Saint-Michel,  is  one  of  the  iJ 
1  anions  bistros  in  Paris,  mearj 
small,  unpretentious  places.  All 
is  both,  but  it  is  not  cheap.  HI 
ever  it  does  not  have  to  be,  asi 
food  is  so  good  that  it  is  dou.lj 
staired  in  the  Michelin  guide,  B-1 
of  French  diners-out.  Phone  fc 
reservation. 

Rotisserie  de  la  Reine  Pedauk 
rue  Pepiniere,  near  the  Gare  S;| 
Lazare.  One  feels  bashful  aljj 
recommending  a  place  to  wig 
every  tourist  finds  his  own 
sooner  or  later,  but  the  fact  is  J 
this  is  one  of  the  best  buys  oi 
kind  (flat-rate  meal  including  wj 
fast  turnover)  in  Paris.  The  res! 
rant  has  its  own  wine  reserve! 
Burgundy,  and  if  the  three  excel 
table    wines     (white,    rose,    redl 


AFTER     HOURS 


inks  down  in  front  of  you  with 
limit  on  what  you  may  drink 
fhout  extra  charge,  are  not  fine 
ough  for  your  mood,  it  can  pro- 
le plenty  of  others. 

Franche-Comte 

Zhez  Rousseau,   6,   rue   Papillon. 

ar  the  Folies  Bergere,  in  a  maze 
streets   running   in   weird   direc- 

ns  which  often  baffles  taxi-drivers. 

is  perhaps  a  little  doubtful  about 
at  province  it  represents— it  seems 

compromise  between  Burgundian 

i   Franche-Comte   dishes,    but    as 

Franche-Comte  was  in  and  out 

Burgundy   at   various   epochs   in 

history,    that    is    perhaps    under- 

ndable.  Anyway,  as  it  is  easier 
find  Burgundian  cooking  than 
t  of  the  Franche-Comte  in  Paris, 

ist  it  here  for  items  like  the  hot 
s  d'oeuvre  provided  by  its  special 
Mete  jurassien  and  the  occasional 
a  wines  it  offers  (do  not  count 
this),  rather  than  for  such  Bur- 

idian   delights    as    its    cochon    de 

!  de  Beaune  mode  des  vendanges 

ackling  pig. 

Gascony 

Zhez  Josephine,  117,  rue  de 
erche-Midi,  slightly  out  of  the 
mtparnasse  quarter.  Landaise 
iking.  Confit  d'oie  and  foie  gras 
raisin  of  the  best.    Arrive  early. 

Languedoc 

Zhez  Anna,  10,  boulevard  Deles- 
t,  convenient  to  the  Chaillot 
:seums— or  for  that  matter  to  the 
fel  Tower  on   the.  other  side  of 

•  river,  if  you  are  doing  the  tourist 
md.   Here  the  dish  to  demand  is 

•  cassoulel.  Prices  are  reasonable 
ie  character  of  cassoulet  does  not 
ord  with  de  luxe  prices  or  atmos- 
sre— and  the  place  may  possibly 
even  a  little  too  folksy,  especially 
fou  do  not  like  cats.  Anna  does 
l  the  plural.  Usually  full;  it  is 
/isable  to  phone  in  advance. 

Lyonnais 

iux  Lyonnais,  32,  rue  Saint-Marc, 
ir  the  Bourse.  Cheaper  yet— hence 
style,  and  do  not  be  surprised 
|  the  proprietor  helps  himself  to 
ample  of  what  you  have  ordered. 

appreciates  his  own  offerings, 
o  he  is  checking  on  the  quality 
what  you  have  been  given.   Take 

table  d'hote— it  is  cheaper  than 


putting  your  meal  together  from 
the  a  la  carte  menu  and  there  is 
just  about  as  much  choice.  Hot  sau- 
sage, that  favorite  dish  of  Lyons,  is 
a  specialty  here,  too,  but  poularde 
a  la  creme  is  what  I  would  suggest. 

Normandy 

Au  Bocage  Fleuri,  19,  rue  Duran- 
ton,  in  the  fifteenth  arrondissement, 
not  near  any  place  that  visitors 
know  about.  You  could  however  go 
less  far  and  do  worse.  The  famous 
Valley  d'Auge  chickens  are  served 
here,  and  sweetbreads,  Norman  style 
(ris  de  veau  normand),  are  some- 
thing else  to  try. 

Provence 

Lavergne,  51,  rue  du  Faubourg 
Saint-Martin,  off  a  highly  unfashion- 
able segment  of  the  Grands  Boule- 
vards, is  able  to  charge  extremely 
reasonable  prices  for  cooking  of  a 
high  grade.  It  offers-  bouillabaisse, 
but  is  exceptional  in  being  a  Pro- 
vencal restaurant  that  does  not  think 
it  has  done  its  whole  duty  to  its 
customers  when  it  succeeds  with  this 
dish.  Its  finest  creation,  indeed,  is 
probably  its  rognon  de  veau  casserole 
(veal  kidneys). 

Mr.  Root  concludes  with  this 
warning  to  the  tourist: 

Before  you  go  out  of  your  way  to 
one  of  the  restaurants  listed  above, 
make  sure  it  is  open.  Many  Parisian 
restaurants  close  one  day  a  week.  I 
have  not  attempted  to  give  closing 
days  here  because  they  might  easily 
change  between  the  times  of  writing 
and  reading. 

What  is  sadder,  from  the  visitors' 
standpoint,  is  that  many  restaurants 
close  for  vacations.  The  Parisian 
month  for  vacationing  is  August, 
precisely  the  month  when  the  largest 
numbers  of  tourists  are  in  the  city. 
Some  of  Paris's  best  restaurants  close 
for  the  entire  month  or  even  longer. 

CRITIQUE 

TH  E  following  is  going  around 
the  Metropolitan  Museum  in 
New  York,  where  an  exhibition  of 
Sir  Winston  Churchill's  paintings  is 
being  held  this  spring: 

"Winston  paints  good  like  Eisen- 
hower should." 

—Mr.  Harper 


She's  always  satisfied  most 
with  a  BRAND  that's 
made  a  NAME  for  itself! 


"I    MADE   IT  ...  and   I 

make  sure  that  the  best 
materials  and  workman- 
ship go  into  any  product 
with  my  name  on  it.  Natu- 
rally, people  blame  me  if 
my  product  is  unsatisfac- 
tory, and  they  stop  buying 
it.  I  can't  risk  turning  out 
anything  that  may  be  only 
'second-best.'  " 


"I  SOLD  IT  .  .  .  recom- 
mended it  because  the 
name  it  has  made  for  itself 
tells  me  it's  one  of  the  best, 
most  up-to-date  products 
in  its  field.  In  fact,  a  good 
brand  name  is  the  best 
guarantee  my  customers  can 
have  when  they  buy.  And 
for  me,  too  ...  I  know 
they'll  buy  it  again." 


"I  BOUGHT  IT  .  .  .  be- 
cause it's  an  advertised 
brand  I  can  trust  complete- 
ly. I  just  won't  risk  my 
family's  welfare  on  some 
product  I  don't  know  any- 
thing about — even  when 
they  say  it's  'just  as  good.' 
I  feel  safer,  somehow,  when 
I  stick  to  a  brand  I  know  I 
can  depend  on." 


Better  buy  by  BRAND  NAME  * 

BRAND  NAMES  WEEK 

APRIL  13-20th 

the  famous  makers'  names  you  trust 

BRAND  NAMES  FOUNDATION,  INC. 
437  FIFTH  AVENUE  NEW  YORK  16,  N.  Yw 


the  new  £>  O  O  KS 


PAUL   PICKREL 


Economic  Man  and  the  Rest  of  Us 


THERE  used  to  be  a  character  in  the 
textbooks  of  economics  who  was  known 
.is  Economic  Man.  He  had,  as  I  recall,  two 
characteristics  thai  distinguished  him  from  the 
common  herd:  he  was  perfectly  selfish  and  he 
was  perfectly  rational.  His  selfishness  was  not 
of  the  chiseling  kind  that  most  of  us  are 
familiar  with  l>\  introspection;  it  was  purified 
of  all  consideration  ol  what  other  people  might 
think,  ol  cheap  bids  for  esteem  and  affection 
and  self-respect;  it  was  as  efficient  and  imper- 
sonal as  the  selfishness  ol  a  magnet.  His  ration- 
ality was  equally  remarkable.  He  always  bought 
cheapest  and  sold  highest,  and  was  never  swayed 
by  the  vagaries  of  current  taste  or  the  example 
of  his  neighbors  or  the  importuning  of  his  wile 
and  young;  when  he  bought  a  car  he  bought 
performance  and  paid  no  attention  to  the  color 
of  the  upholstery;  when  he  bought  soap  he 
bought  an  aid  to  cleanliness  but  he  did  not 
expect  it  to  make  him  sweet  and  lovable. 

The  trouble  with  Economic  Man,  even  as 
a  character  in  an  economics  textbook  (where 
characterization  is  not  usually  a  strong  point), 
is  that  he  lacked  what  book  reviewers  like  to 
call  verisimilitude:  he  did  not  seem  very  much 
like  plain,  everyday  men  as  we  know  them.  And 
even  his  creators,  with  more  candor  than  most 
other  writers  of  fiction  show  when  they  botch 
the  job,  confessed  that  he  was  only  hypothetical. 
By  this  time  Economic  Man  has  probably  faded 
from  the  textbooks,  though  here  and  there  he 
may  survive,  for  economics  is  a  myth  not  agreed 
upon. 

DIVIDED    LIFE 

NOW  a  good  deal  of  attention  is  being  given 
to  the  fact  that  the  way  a  man  participates  in 
the  economy— his  manner  of  earning  a  living, 
the  bases  on  which  he  makes  purchases,  his 
habits  of  saving,  and  so  on— is  only  a  part  of 
his  whole  personality.  This  means  that  he  is 
beset  by  two  diametrically  opposed  dangers,  and 
which  danger  is  the  greater  depends  on  whether 


you    believe    our    popular    sociologists    or    our 
populai    novelists. 

it  you  believe  the  sociologists— William  H. 
Whyte,  Jr.,  in  The  Organization  Man,  lor  in- 
stance -the  contemporary  American  is  in  danger 
ol  giving  in  to  his  job,  ol  diminishing  his  per- 
sonality until  there  is  nothing  left  to  get  in  die 
way  ol  the  giant  corporations  that  define  his 
usefulness  as  a  producer  or  the  advertising  agen- 
cies who  have  the  task  ol  keeping  him  a  faith- 
ful and  tractable  consumer.  On  the  other  hand, 
il  you  believe  a  good  many  popular  novelists,  the 
contemporary  American  is  seriously  concerned 
by  the  fact  that  he  leads  a  divided  life,  that 
his  participation  in  the  economy  leaves  "his 
senses   and   his   heart    unsatisfied." 

Joe  Morgan's  new  novel,  Expense  Account 
(Random  House,  $3.75),  is  such  a  book.  The 
main  character  is  one  Peter  Cody,  who  works 
lor  a  big  hardware  manufacturer  as  "promo- 
tion manager,"  which  means  that  he  entertains 
out-of-town  customers,  arranges  banquets  and 
conventions  for  the  company,  and  acts  as  gen- 
eral glad-hander.  He  is  an  extreme  but  con- 
vincing example  of  a  man  split  in  two  by  his 
job,  because  he  is  actually  living  in  two  very 
different  styles.  When  he  is  on  the  company's 
expense  account,  on  the  road  and  entertaining 
in  town,  he  stays  at  the  best  hotels,  eats  the  best 
filet  mignon,  drinks  the  best  Scotch.  He  is  genu- 
inely fond  of  his  wife  and  children,  but  he 
cannot  ignore  the  lad  that  the  accommodations 
and  cuisine  at  home  are  below  the  level  he  has 
become  used  to:  he  lives  in  a  development  house 
that  is  coming  unglued  and  eats  macaroni  su- 
preme. Headwaiters  in  the  best  restaurants  in 
the  country  greet  him  with  their  broadest  smiles, 
but  his  wife  sometimes  has  to  ask  the  grocer 
to  wait  for  his  money. 

Around  this  central  idea  Morgan  has  grouped 
situations  more  or  less  conventional  in  the  busi- 
ness novel.  There  is  a  struggle  for  control  of 
the  hardware  company  that  Peter  Cody  works 
for;  there  is  a  temptress  of  almost  inconceivable 
wealth  and  beauty  who  dabbles  in  business  and 
provides  another  hazard  of  expense-account  liv- 
ing;  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  comedy  and 


"The  most  accurate  and  moving  of  the  biographical 
literature  on  the  tortured  life  of  James  Joyce." 

—Harrison  smith,  Saturday  Review 

Preface  by  T.  S.  ELIOT 

Introduction  and  notes  by  RICHARD  ELLMANN 


MY  BROTHER'S 


James  Joyce's  Early  Years 


Illustrated  $5.00      by  his  brother  STANISLAUS 


remarkable 
book.... 


"I  think  this  boy  may  well  be  a  very  important  writer." 

—JOHN  STEINBECK 

"Would  do  credit  to  a  fine  novelist  at  the  peak  of  his 
powers.  Dennis  Murphy  writes  with  the  freshness, 
force,  and  apparent  ease  that  mark  any  fiction  that 
carries  authority."— mark  schorer  $3.50 


THE 
SERGEANT 

A  novel 
by  DENNIS  MURPHY 


"A  fine  idea, 

brilliantly 
carried  out." 

—Publishers'  Weekly 


These  stimulating  interviews  with  such  writers  as 
E.  M.  Forster,  Francoise  Sagan,  Mauriac,  Faulkner, 
Thurber,  Joyce  Cary,  Dorothy  Parker,  and  others, 
offer  illuminating  insights  into  personality  and  differ- 
ent methods  of  work. 

Illustrated  with  facsimiles  from  original  mss.  $5.00 


WRITERS 
AT  WORK 

The  Paris  Review  Interviews 

Edited,  with  an  introduction 
by  MALCOLM  COWLEY 


Now 
back 
in  print- 


A  volume  of  his  finest  travel  writing.  With  his  genius 
for  combining  psychological  perception,  sociological 
insight,  and  personal  enthusiasm,  Lawrence  records 
his  vivid,  sensitive,  often  rhapsodic  impressions  of  the 
Italian  countryside  and  the  Italian  temper.  $3.50 


TWILIGHT 
IN  ITALY 

by  D.  H.  LAWRENCE 


A  timely 
analysis 


Ul 

longevity 


"The  humor 

)f  his  books  is 

enough  to 

enchant." 

-GRAHAM  GREENE 


In  this  stimulating  and  pertinent  study  of  the  social 
and  economic  problems  resulting  from  our  lengthen- 
ing life  span,  Dr.  Soule  dramatically  shows  how  our 
attitude  toward  age  is  wasting  manpower.  He  offers 
practical  plans  for  revising  our  employment  practices 
in  order  to  salvage  the  abilities  of  older,  and  often 
wiser,  persons.  $3.00 


Mr.  Narayan's  previous  novels  have  won  him  not  only 
a  devoted  band  of  readers  but  also  critical  comparisons 
to  Chekhov,  Gogol,  and  Joyce  Cary.  In  his  new  novel 
about  Raju,  delightful  Indian  guide  and  reluctant  holy 
man,  he  tells  his  most  beguiling  tale.  $3.50 


LONGER 
LIFE 

by  GEORGE  SOULE 


625   MADISON  AVE., 


THE 
Ul 

A  novel 
by  R.  K.  NARAYAN 


IKING 


NEW  YORK  22,  N.  Y. 


8G 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


pathos  incidental  to  undercapitalized  domesticity 
in  the  suburbs.  Morgan  combines  all  these  ele- 
ments with  eas)  expertness  to  make  an  unpre- 
tentious hut  agreeable  novel. 

Bui  Expense  At  i omit  is  mum  convincing  when 
it  strays  From  routine  and  realizes  the  possi- 
bilities for  corruption  and  self-humiliation  in 
the  system  ii  describes.  The  besl  passage  is  an 
account  of  a  long  terrible  night  Peter  Cod) 
spends  with  a  thoroughly  repulsive  out-of-town 
customer,  and  his  grim  realization  in  the  cold 
light  of  morning;  that  his  usefulness  to  his 
employer  does  not  derive  from  his  knowledge 
ol  manufacturing  or  finance  or  advertising  (he 
knows  nothing  ol  any  of  them)  but  simply  from 
the  fact  that  he  is  a  reliable  pimp. 

THE     PROXY     FIGHT 

AG  O  O  D  deal  of  Expense  Account  is  more 
interesting  for  the  information  it  gives 
about  the  way  our  economy  functions  than  for 
the  human  involvements  it  portrays,  and  much 
the  same  is  true  of  John  Brooks'  new  novel. 
The  Man  Who  Broke  Things  (Harper,  $3.95). 
Here  the  most  striking  character  is  Hank 
Haislip,  who  seems  to  have  been  freely  modeled 
in  the  public  aspects  of  his  career  on  the  late 
Robert  Young.  Like  Mr.  Young,  Haislip  is  a 
Westerner  who  beats  the  Easterners  on  Wall 
Street  at  their  own  game;  like  him  he  started 
out  as  a  speculator  and  moves  on  to  control 
large  enterprises,  chiefly  through  his  ability  to 
convince  small  investors  that  if  they  will  give 
him  their  proxies  to  vote  their  stock  he  will 
give  them  better  management  and  consequently 
a  larger  return  on  their  investment.  The  proxy 
fight  that  provides  the  chief  action  of  the  novel, 
however,  concerns  control  of  a  chain  of  stores 
whose  economic  situation  seems  to  bear  less  re- 
semblance to  any  of  the  businesses  Mr.  Young 
controlled  than  to  Montgomery  Ward  under  the 
chairmanship  of  Sewell   Avery. 

Probably  Brooks  took  no  more  than  a  hint 
for  his  main  character  from  Mr.  Young;  I  know 
of  no  reason  to  suppose  that  their  private  lives 
bear  the  slightest  resemblance  to  each  other. 
Yet  the  fact  that  Mr.  Young  committed  suicide 
soon  after  the  novel  was  completed  and  before 
it  was  published  will  almost  certainly  affect  its 
reception,  though  in  what  way  it  is  hard  to 
say.  My  guess  is  that  more  people  will  read  the 
book  than  might  otherwise  have  done  so,  and  at 
the  same  time  that  judgments  of  it  will  be 
harsher,  for  the  tragic  end  of  Mr.  Young's  other- 
wise amazingly  successful  career  suggests  that 
human  personality  is  a  more  mysterious  thing 
than  the  kind  ol  motivation  Brooks  supplies 
for  his  characters  can  account  for. 

And  the  truth  is  that  the  weakness  of  the 
book  lies  in  its  characterization.    The  characters 


have  no  personalis  apart  from  the  roles  the) 
play;  the)  illustrate  certain  conflicts  in  oui 
econom)  but  they  do  not  have  reality  enough 
to  cause  those  conflicts.  In  this  respect  The 
Mini  Who  Broke  Things  is  inferior  to  Brooks' 
lasi  book,  A  Pride  of  Emus:  in  other  ways  it  is 
much  better  and  will  almost  certainly  be  more 
successful.  But  the  ding)  New  Jersey  famil) 
prowling  pointlessl)  about  their  ill-lit  living- 
room  in  A  Pride  of  Emus  had  much  more  inde- 
pendent existence,  the)  were  much  more  like 
real  people,  than  anyone  in  the  new  book. 

IN  SPITE  of  the  fact  that  Hank  Haislip 
dominates  the  book,  the  main  character  is  really 
a  young  man  named  Bob  Billings  who  serves 
as  the  novel's  moral  conscience  and  the  author's 
representative  on  the  si  cue.  Though  a  very  dif- 
ferent sort  ol  voting  man  and  laced  with  prob- 
lems of  a  different  son.  he  serves  much  the  same 
function  as  Peter  Cody  in  Expense  Account,  for 
he  is  trying  to  preserve  the  integrity  of  his  lile 
against    the  demands  of  making  a   living. 

Billings  is  the  son  ol  a  highly  respected  Wall 
Street  banker  who  is  a  model  of  Atlantic 
Seaboard  probity  and  high-minded  devotion  to 
duty.  He  has  been  given  the  kind  of  education 
usual  with  the  sons  of  such  men,  and  has  ac- 
cepted their  standards  as  his  own.  Then  in  the 
course  of  his  career  as  a  financial  journalist  he 
suddenly  discovers  that  his  lather's  firm  has  not 
always  been  quite  so  upright  as  it  is  reputed 
to  be,  and  when  his  father  in  a  gentlemanl) 
way  blackmails  him  into  suppressing  what  he 
has  discovered,  he  goes  into  the  emplov  of  "the 
man  who  breaks  things"— Haislip,  the  bold 
buccaneer  from  the  West  who  challenges  the 
right  of  men  like  his  father  to  run  the  nation's 
business.  In  the  course  of  the  proxy  fight,  young 
Billings  discovers  that  his  father  was  not  en- 
tirely wrong  about  Haislip,  and  in  the  end  he 
and  his  father,  who  has  been  one  of  the  old 
directors  of  the  chain  of  stores  whom  Haislip 
has  sought  to  replace,  re-establish  a  certain  shy 
rapport. 

Billings  has  one  limitation  as  a  judge  of  the 
action  he  witnesses:  except  for  one  incident, 
he  judges  what  the  characters  do  on  a  basis 
of  personal  honor  without  regard  to  the  eco- 
nomic consequences  of  their  acts.  He  deserts 
Haislip  because  Haislip  commits  a  shocking 
breach  of  personal  loyalty  in  the  course  of  the 
proxy  fight,  but  he  shows  remarkably  little 
interest  in  whether  Haislip's  management  will 
actually  be  good  for  the  company  or  not. 

The  May}  Who  Broke  Things  is  at  its  best 
when  it  is  closest  to  reporting.  Almost  every- 
thing that  has  to  do  with  the  proxy  fight  as 
a  piece  of  maneuvering  and  as  a  technical  feat 
is  absorbing,  and  Brooks  has  contrived  a  suf- 
ficiently  dramatic    plot    around    it    to    hold    the 


NATURE  IN 
ABSTRACTION 

The  Relation  of  Abstract  Painting 
and  Sculpture  to  Nature  in 
Twentieth-Century  American  Art 
By  JOHN  I.  H.  BAUR 

A  pioneering  study  of  the  opinions 
of  over  fifty  modern  abstract 
painters  and  sculptors  on  the  rela- 
tion of  the  observed  world  of 
nature  to  their  work.  Brief  bio- 
graphical sketches  accompany 
their  revealing  statements. 
16  full-color  reproductions, 
43  black  and  white  $6.00 


BRADLEY  WALKER 
TOMLIN 

By  JOHN  I.  H.  BAUR 
Curator  of  the  Whitney  Museum 
of  American  Art 
An  illuminating  first  biography  of 
a  leading  figure  in  American 
abstract-expressionist  art,  includ- 
ing perceptive  appraisals  by  two 
artists  who  knew  him  intimately 
and  two  museum  directors  who 
have  done  much  to  forward  his 
recognition. 

4  full-color  reproductions, 

31  black  and  white  $4.00 


ARSHILE  GORKY 

By  ETHEL  K.  SCHWABACHER 

A     fascinating     biography     and 
critical    examination    of    one    of 
America's  great  modern  painters. 
"...  an  important  landmark 
in  the  field  .  .  .  offers  the  reader 
considerable  assistance  in  seeing 
the  intricate  and  elusive  imagery 
of  .  .  .  'the  Ingres  of  the  uncon- 
scious.' " — Arts  Magazine 
8  full-color  reproductions 
70  black  and  white  $8.50 


NOW- one  of  the  great 
books  of  all  time 
at  a  new  low  price! 

THE 

GOLDEN  BOUGH 

One-Volume  Edition 

By  SIR  JAMES  G.  FRAZER 

In  this  handsome  one-volume 
edition,  Sir  James  Frazer  himself 
expertly  compressed  the  wealth 
of  material  contained  in  the 
original  twelve-volume  set  of 
The  Golden  Bough.  Based  on  his 
thirty  years  of  research  in  the 
farthest  and  most  obscure  cor- 
ners of  the  world,  this  master- 
piece describes  our  ancestors' 
primitive  methods  of  worship, 
sex  practices,  magic,  strange 
rituals,  festivals,  sacrifices  and 
more.  A  panorama  of  man's 
arduous  struggle  to  emerge  from 
a  nightmare  of  magic,  taboos 
and  superstitions  into  a  better 
understanding  of  the  world  we 
live  in. 

"...  a  tumultuous,  enthralling 
encyclopedia  .  .  .  one  of  the 
20th  century's  most  influential 
books." — Time  Magazine 

"Sir  James  wrote  .  .  .  classics 
that  no  anthropologist  or  so- 
ciologist, no  student  of  literary 
origins,  or  psychologist  can  af- 
ford to  ignore  ...  he  made  it 
plain  to  us  that  under  the  skin 
South  Sea  Islanders,  Congo 
tribes,  ancient  Sumerians,  At- 
tila's  hordes  and  button-pushing, 
airplane-riding  moderns  axe  all 
brothers." — The  New  York  Times 

Only  $3.95 


nil 


THE  NEW  INDIA: 

Progress  Through 
Democracy 

Prepared  by  The  Planning 
Commission,  Government 
ot  India 

This  important  work  traces  the 
development  of  India's  ambi- 
tious Second  Five  Year  Plan  set 
in  action  in  1956  and  designed 
to  promote  India's  economic  and 
social  reconstruction.  The  study 
examines  current  agricultural, 
industrial,  labor,  health,  housing 
and  population  problems  to- 
gether with  the  measures  that 
the  Plan  provides  for  their 
solution. 

"Because  of  the  timeliness  of 
this  volume,  and  because  it  is 
a  clear  and  well  written  ac- 
count of  India's  approach  to 
its  pressing  social  and  eco- 
nomic problems,  'The  New 
India'  deserves,  and  I  hope  it 
will  have  a  wide  and  sympa- 
thetic reading." 

—ELLSWORTH  BUNKER, 
Ambassador  of  the 
United  States  of 
America  to  India 

Hardbound  Edition    $5.00 
Paper  Edition  $2.50 


£TAe  tAtttcmillan-  ^ctnfavttty 


60  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK  11,  N.Y. 


Your  local  bookstore  plays  a  leading 
role  in  the  cultural  progress  of  your 
community.  If  any  of  these  books  is  not 
immediately  available  your  bookseller 
will  be  happy  to  order  it  for  you.  Sup- 
port his  efforts  to  make  your  community 
a  better  place  in  which  to  live. 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


L.  P.  Hartley 

THE  HIRELING 

"Hartley's  is  the  art  of  the 
miniature  painter-exquisitely 
understated.  I  can't  think  of 
any  American  writer  who 
could  handle  such  a  theme  - 
the  'lady'  and  the  chauffeur - 
with  such  delicate  wit,  such 
aloof  sympathy." 

—  LEWIS  GANNETT       $3.50 

Bernice  Kavinoky 

THE  MOTHER 

Here  is  a  magnificently  human 
picture  of  a  mother  who  be- 
gins to  understand  herself  only 
as  she  loses  the  son  she  loves 
and  cannot  possess.  By  the 
author  of  Honey  from  a  Dark 
Hive.  $300 

Edgar  Pangborn 

WILDERNESS  OF 
SPRING 

"A  brilliant  picture  of  Massa- 
chusetts in  the  early  eighteenth 
century  .  .  .  action  and  sus- 
pense and  vivid  settings  .  .  . 
Unusually  enjoyable." -N.  Y. 
Herald  Tribune  $4.95 

THE  UNSILENT 
GENERATION 

EDITED  BY    \JttO     JjUlZ 

Eleven  college  seniors  speak 
their  piece.  What  do  they 
think  of  themselves,  the  world 
today?  Anonymous,  supremely 
outspoken,  they  answer  ques- 
tions about  happiness,  success, 
security,  God,  education,  mar- 
riage, family,  morals,  the  fu- 
ture of  America.  $2.95 

j&V  At  all  bookstores 

%_mM  RINEHART  &  CO  .  INC. 


interest  of  what  seems  to  be  a  large 
audience  for  novels  about  American 
business. 

OVERSEAS     TOO 


Image  of  a  Society  In  Ro)  Fuller 
(Macmillan,  $2.75),  a  recent  novel 
I  mm  England,  shows  that  the  prob- 
lem ol  maintaining  one's  identity 
against  the  demands  ol  one's  work 
is    not     limited    to    America. 

The  "Societv"  of  the  title,  at  least 
on    the   literal    level,    is    the    British 
equivalent  ol  our  building-ami  loan 
associations.   This  particular  Society 
has  its  headquarters  in  a  provincial 
town,   but   it   is   a  business   ol    con- 
siderable   size    and    the    men     who 
direct    its    affairs    are    men    of    con- 
sequence.   The  general    manager   is 
reaching    retirement    age,    and    the 
story    is   built    around   who   will   be 
his  successor.    One  of  the  two  chief 
contenders  for  the  position  is  a  man 
of  dash  and  Hair,  a  gentleman  with 
an  offhand  way  with  him.  who  has 
nevertheless  so  completely  identified 
himsell  with  his  work  that  not  to  get 
the  promotion  will  destroy  him;  the 
other   contender    is   a    mole-like    ac- 
countant  who   never   makes   a    false 
step  and  never  loses  an  opportunity 
to    ingratiate    himsell    with    his    su- 
periors,   a    man    in    his    own    quite 
different  way   as   completely   identi- 
fied with  his  work  as  the  first. 

By    contrast,    the    main    character 
in   the  novel.   Philip   Witt,   the  So- 
ciety's  solicitor,   who   is   not   a   can- 
didate for  the  general  managership, 
has  utterly  refused  to  identify  him- 
self with  the  Society  and  his  work 
there.  He  regards  himself  as  a  writer 
and  intellectual  whose  real  life  only 
begins  when  he  leaves  the  office,  but 
in  fact  he  is  as  much  victimized  and 
intimidated    by    his    job    as    anyone 
else.    He  is  estranged  from  the  par- 
ents he  lives  with   and   the  girl   he 
limply  goes  through  the  motions  of 
courting;    his   writing   is   an   excuse 
he  makes  to  himself  for  his  own  ex- 
istence rather  than  an  accomplished 
fact;  he  is  bored  and  hypochondri- 
acal and  probably  neurotic. 

The  decisive  incident  of  the  novel 
1S  the  discovery  that  one  of  the 
Society's  large  loans  is  bad  and  will 
result  in  a%i/able  loss.  Responsi- 
bility for  the  blunder  has  to  be 
allocated,  and  in  the  process  the 
question   of   who   will   be   the   next 


general     managei     is     settled.     alii 
Philip   Win    (with  the  help  ol   th 
unsuccessful     candidate's     wife) 
freed   from  his  cringing  isolation. 
Fuller  has  the  gifts  of  a  first-rat 
novelist,    but    Image   of  a    Sourly    ' 
not    quite    a    first-rate    novel.     Tli 
power    ol    characterization    is    bra 
liant.    but    the    plot    is    a    little    to 
cramped    to   give    lull    scope    to  i 
The    plight    of    Philip    Witt    is 
powerfully  drawn  at  the  outset  th. 
the  swift  if  painful   cure  he   uncle! 
goes  is  hardlv  convincing.  Yet  Full 
is  a  more  serious  novelist  than  eith 
Brooks  or  Morgan,  and  his  book  1 
a   universality    that  theirs  lack.    V 
wad  their  books  to  learn  soinethii 
about    the    economy— how    expen 
accounts    work,     how    a     buccane 
operates— and  we  are  grateful  lor  tl 
plot  and   people   that  sugarcoat   tl 
lesson,    but    we    read    Fuller's    bo. 
io  learn  about  ourselves.   Brooks  I 
Morgan    raise    questions    about    t 
moral     effects     of     certain     isolaj 
kinds  of  economic  activity,  but  F 
lei    more   disturbingly  suggests  he! 
anv    of    us    can    be    corrupted    a 
( rippled    in    the   process   of  eanul 
a  living. 


I  N  The  Price  of  Diamonds  (Kno 
paperbound,  $1.45)  the  voting  Soil 
African  novelist  Dan  Jacobson  I 
written  a  funny  and  touching  lit! 
story  about  two  old  Jewish  businl 
men  in  a  Godforsaken  diamol 
mining  town  in  South  Africa.  Thj 
names  are  Manfred  Gottlieb  dl 
T.  H.  Fink,  and  for  a  good  ml 
years  they  have  been  partners! 
a  small  but  profitable  and  eminet! 
respectable  business.  1 

The   action   begins  when  FinW 
out  ol   town   traveling  for  the   fjl 
and  a  mysterious  messenger  deli^ 
a  small  package  to  the  office.  It  til 
out  to  contain  uncut  diamonds,  I 
Gottlieb  decides  that  his  partnej 
engaged  in  the  illicit  diamond  tr| 
and   keeping  it   a   secret   from  l| 
Gottlieb    happens    to    be    wrong! 
this    conclusion,    but    it   subtly    , 
rupts  him  and  threatens  to  desl 
the  trust  that  underlies  his  parti 
ship    with    Fink.     It   corrupts   Fl 
too,  because  he  knows  what  is  gdj 
on  and  does  nothing  about  it. 
two    old     friends    draw    more    j 
more    apart,    and    Gottlieb,    in  I 
efforts  to  match  what  he  mistak I 
assumes  to  be  his  partner's  bold! 


89 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 

i  daring,   is   drawn   into   a   series 
adventures    that    are    simultane- 
ity dangerous,  slightly  ridiculous, 
1  horrible.    The  scene   in   which 
partners     finally     acknowledge 
t  pride  and  rivalry  have  led  them 
fail  each  other  is  as  fine  as  any 
tave  read  in  some  time. 
The  Price  of  Diamonds  is  an  un- 
;ial  and  original  piece  of  work.   It 
skillfully  constructed  without  us- 
any  of  the  standard  devices  of 
/els     about     businessmen.      The 
racters  are  equally  free  of  cliches; 
y    are    freshly    observed,    highly 
)syncratic,    yet    too    full    of   com- 
n   humanity    to    be    freaks;    they 
wrong  and  foolish,  but  they  are 
)  good  and  lovable. 

|IOTHER  fine  novel  that  por- 
/s  the  subtle  interplay  between 
lmercial  and  personal  relation- 
3  is  the  new  book  by  the  English 
ter  L.  P.  Hartley,  The  Hireling 
nehart,  $3.50). 

"he   "hireling"   of   the    title   is   a 

ty-five-year-old    army    veteran 

led  Leadbitter  who  has  bought 

automobile    on    the    installment 

l  and  makes  a  living  by  hiring 

lut  with  himself  as  driver.   In  his 

l  eyes,  Leadbitter  is  as  perfectly 

onal  and  as  perfectly  selfish   as 

hypothetical  Economic   Man   of 

textbooks.   Experience  has  made 

distrust  emotional  en  tangle- 
its;  the  army  has  trained  him 
ive  in  isolation;  and  his  ambition 
hopes  some  day  to  own  a  whole 
:  of  automobiles)  has  led  him 
trip  his  life  of  anything  that  can 
d  in  the  way  of  his  success. 
'hen  he   acquires   as   a   customer 

Lady  Franklin,  a  very  rich 
ng  widow  who  is  recovering 
a  a  nervous  breakdown.  She 
i  that  she  has  failed  her  late  hus- 
d  in  their  marriage,  and  by  way 
loing  penance  she  sets  out  on 
;ries  of  pilgrimages  to  various 
lish  cathedrals,  hiring  Lead- 
er to  drive  her.  Her  doctor  has 
tsed  her  to  take  an  interest  in 
r  people,  and  so  she  innocently 
:tices  taking  an  interest  in  other 
h\e  on  Leadbitter,  by  asking  him 
kinds  of  questions  about  his 
ate  life, 
"adbitter  in  effect  has  no  private 

but    as    an    ambitious    young 
f,epreneur  he  knows  that  he  must 

the  customer   what  she  wants. 


C.  P.  Snow 

THE  CONSCIENCE^ 
OF  THE  RICH 

Power  and  wealth  as  part  of  the  tradi- 
tion of  one  of  the  great  Jewish  families 
Df  England. 

"Wise,  beautifully  controlled  and 
leeply  moving  .  .  .  the  best  novel  C.  P. 
Snow  has  so  far  written." 
$3.95  —  ROBERT  GORHAM  DAVIS, 

Netv  York  Times  Book  Review 


' 


KING  OF  THE 
MOUNTAIN 

The  rare  ability  to  comprehend  life  at 
a  glance  and  express  it  in  a  word  per- 
vades these  memorable  stories.  Each 
one,  whether  articulating  an  adolescent 
murmur,  or  pinpointing  an  adult  need, 
reflects  the  sure  hand  of  a  born  writer. 

$3.50 


■■■:■■■  ■   ■  ■ 

:      ■  .  .  •'  ■'  '  :  "  ■■■■'■  '  :•: 


IPS 


:  ^ 


A  Play  by 

■    Ketti  Frings 

LOOK 

HOMEWARD, 

ANGEL 

A  skilled,  sensitive  craftsman  has 
translated  Thomas  Wolfe's  classic  into 
a  dramatic  masterpiece,  wolcott  gibbs 
hails  it  as  "a  miracle"  .  .  .  BROOKS 
ATKINSON  calls  it  "marvelous"  .  .  . 
RICHARD  WATTS  cites  it  as  "one  of  the 
finest  plays  in  American  dramatic 
literature."  $2.95 


At  your  booksellers 

CHARLES  SCRIBNERS  SONS 


yo 


WtekPN 


53  Shakespeare's  Imagery  and  52.45 
What  It  Tells  Us 

by  Caroline  F.  E.  Spurgeon 

54  The  Social  Life  of  Animals  SI. 45 
by  W.  C.  Allee 

55  Three  Short  Novels  SI. GO 
by  Kay  Boyle 

56  The  Psychiatric  Study  of  Jesus  $  .9S 

by  Albert  Schweitzer 

57  How  Prints  Look  SI. 60 
Photographs  with  a  Commentary 

by  William  M.  Ivins,  Jr. 

58  Toward  Freedom  $1.95 
by  Jawaharlal  Nehru 

59  Studies  in  Hysteria  SI. 45 
by  Joseph  Breuer  and  Sigmund  Freud 

60  Plato's  Thought  SI. GO 
by  G.  M.  A.  Grube 

61  Protestantism  and  Progress  S1.45 

by  Ernst  Troeltsch 

62  The  Tyranny  ot  Greece  51.95 
over  Germany 

by  E.  M.  Butler 


24  at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm-4 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid:  New  Beacon  Pa- 
perback 


53  D  56  □  59  D 

54  □  57  D  BO  D 

55  D  58  D  61  D 


62  □ 


NAME 

STREET 

CITY STATE 

□  Check         D  Money  Order 
No  C.O.D.'s 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


So  he  invents  a  Eamily  lor  himself, 
complete  with  three  children  and 
a  wife  who.  .is  his  account  of  her 
develops  in  meeting  aftei  meeting, 
bears  an  increasingly  striking  re- 
semblance to  Lad)  Franklin.  Slowl) 
the  fantasy  becomes  the  most  im- 
portant  thing  in  the  lives  ol  both 
dl  them,  loi  Lad)  Franklin  it  lias 
a  curative  effei  t;  for  the  first  time 
since  hei  husband's  death  she  is 
able  to  forget  herseli  and  share  the 
experience  ol  another.  The  effect 
on  Leadbitter  is  more  complicated; 
as  the  fantasy  becomes  more  and 
more  real,  the  inadequacy  ol  his 
wi\  ol  life  becomes  painfully  ap- 
parent to  him;  in  his  sleep  he 
dreams  ol  his  non-existent  children, 
and  in  his  waking  hours  he  is  forced 
to  acknowledge  that  a  smart  oper- 
ator like  himself  has  fallen  hope- 
lessly in  love  with  Lady  Franklin. 
So  he  too  is  emancipated  from  him- 
self by  the  shared  fantasy,  but  his 
effort  to  establish  something  like  the 
fantasy  in  reality  proves  to  be  more 
than  he  can  accomplish,  and  in  the 
end  it  destroys  him. 

The  Hireling  is  a  tragic  love  story, 
a  beautiful  book.  The  complexity 
ol  the  plot  may  strike  some  readers 
as  a  little  artificial,  but  Hartley 
masterfully  brings  off  his  effects, 
writing  with  delicacy  and  tact,  yet 
vigorously. 

MEDIATOR 

MARTIN  MAYER'S  Madison 
Avenue,  U.S.A.  (Harper,  $4.95)  is 
the  most  sensible  book  about  Amer- 
ican advertising  I  have  seen,  and 
it  may  be  the  most  sensible  book 
on  the  subject  available.  Mayer  is 
not  an  alarmist;  he  does  not  set 
out  to  demonstrate  that  we  are  all 
about  to  lose  our  political  freedom, 
our  leisure,  and  our  libidos  to  the 
advertisers.  Instead  he  describes  how 
advertising  operates  as  a  business, 
gives  some  account  of  its  successes 
and  failures  (with  a  healthy  aware- 
ness of  the  limitations  on  what 
advertising  can  accomplish),  offers  a 
fascinating  survey  of  the  fantastic 
efforts  to  turn  the  necromancy  of 
advertising  into  a  science,  looks  at 
the  part  advertising  plays  in  politics, 
and  tries  to  see  what  the  economic 
function  of  advertising  really  is. 

Mayer's  discussion  of  the  last  sub- 
ject, which  is  the  most  original  part 


ol  Ins  hook,  first  appeared  in  t 
pages  ol  this  magazine  in  a  son 
what  different  form  ("What  Is  /j 
vertising  flood  For?"  Februa 
1958).  As  readers  of  the  article  4 
K(  all,  Mayer  sees  little  basis  in  1; 
for  the  traditional  utilitarian  i 
Unse  ol  advertising  on  the  groin 
that  it  widens  the  market  lor 
produc  I  so  mu<  h  that  it  brings  do' 
the  cost  of  the  item.  In  place 
that  idea,  he  suggests  that  adver 
ing  actually  "adds  value"  to  I 
product.  What  he  means  by  tl 
is  not,  of  course,  that  advei  tisi 
makes  any  change  in  the  product 
a  physical  fact,  but  that  it  cl 
make  a  change  in  the  product  a, 
psychological    fact. 

Probably    Mayer's    theory    can 
taken    further    and    more    seriod 
than    he    seems    to    have    taken 
What  he  is  saying  is  that  advertis; 
bridges  the  gap  between   that   tfi 
retical  creature,  Economic  Man,  i 
man    as   he   actually   is;    it   attem 
to    make    contact    between    the 
personality  of  a  market  economy  & 
the  highly  personal  context  in  whj 
the  consumer  makes  his  choices; 
economist   sets   up   his   system   a^ 
men    lived    by   reason,    but   meni 
fact  live  by  poetry,  and  the  adj 
tiser  takes  up  the  slack. 

Unfortunately  Mayer  puts 
theoretical  chapter  last;  it  wq 
have  been  interesting  if  it  had  cc 
first  and  the  whole  analysis  of  w 
advertising  does  had  been  condui 
with  the  object  of  finding  out 
how  well  advertisers  are  succeet 
at     the     job     of     "adding     valu 

A  major  problem  for  anyone 
wants  to  write  about  advertising 
the  problem  of  what  vocabularj 
use.  Advertising  men  have  a  hit 
specialized  vocabulary  of  their 
—they  even  use  their  beloved  L| 
plural  of  medium  as  an  adject 
and  to  adopt  their  lingo  is  to  g 
them  many  concessions.  But  t 
is  probably  no  practical  alterna 
and  Mayer  uses  the  language  ol 
trade,  although  it  gives  a  mea 
to  a  word  like  creative  that  no 
readers  will  instantaneously  r< 
nize  or  grant.  Mayer  also  somet 
lapses  into  a  house-organ  hearti 
especially  when  he  refers  to 
dividual  advertising  men,  but 
stylistic  shortcomings  do  not 
ously  detract  from  the  value 
interest  of  his   book. 


THE  NEW  BOOKS 

ENTREPRENEURS 
OF  RIGHTEOUSNESS 

e  Guide,   the  new  novel  by  the 
lian  novelist  R.  K.  Narayan    (Vi- 
g,  $3.50),  is  the  story  of  a  young 
n  from  South  India  named  Raju 
o  has  St.  Paul's  gift  of  being  all 
igs  to  all  men  but  no  other  ap- 
ent  qualifications  for  saintliness, 
ugh  that  is  what  he  achieves, 
laju's    ability     to    accommodate 
lself  to  the  moods  and  wishes  of 
er  people  and  his  complete  dis- 
ard    of    the    truth    make    him    a 
feet   guide   for    tourists,    because 
shows    all    his    patrons    exactly 
at   they  want   to  see  whether  it 
there    or    not,    systematically    ex- 
iting their  weaknesses  for  his  own 
fit.     His    career    is    temporarily 
ted  when  he  takes  up  with  the 
e  of  one  of  his  patrons,  but  then 
finds  a  way  of  exploiting  her  on 
even   larger  scale   than    he   had 
r  exercised  with  his  tourists, 
"hen  he  over-reaches  himself  and 
is  in  jail  with  a   two-year  sen- 
re.   When  his  time  is  up  he  has 
/here    to    go,    and    so    he    takes 
ige    in     an    abandoned     temple 
're  a  poor  peasant  mistakes  him 
a  holy  man.    With  the  skill   in 
ting  the  most  of  whatever  comes 
iand  that  never  deserts  him,  Raju 
is   the   part,   and   soon   he   finds 
self  handsomely   supported   and 
ifyingly  revered  by  the  farmers 
he  region.   They  not  only  bring 
quantities  of  food  but  consult 
about     their     problems     and 
ler   of   an    evening    to    listen    to 
wisdom,  which  consists  of  a  gab- 
of     half-remembered     legends, 
le-made   aphorisms,   and   preten- 

nonsense. 

nally    a    great    drought    comes 

lis  section  of  South   India,   and 

local  peasants  are  sure  that  Raju 

bring  rain   it   he  will   fast   and 

tice    other     pious     observances. 

i    a    program    of    rigorous    self- 

al  has  no  initial  appeal  for  him, 

he  is  overcome  by  his  old  habit 

eing  whatever  the  situation  or 

moment  requires  him  to  be,  and 

ot  only  undertakes  the  fast  but 

by  believing  that  it  has  worked. 

places    The    Guide    seems    to 

lise  a  little  more  in  the  way  of 

ung    than    it    in    fact    delivers, 

the  method  of  telling  the  story, 

h   is    on    the    principle    of    the 


THE  WORLD'S  GREATEST 
INFORMATION    CENTER 

in  your  own  home . . .  for  oniyT  39  so 


Thousands  of  families  like  yours  value 
Webster's  New  International  Dictionary, 
Second  Edition,  as  the  great  question 
answerer,  an  "information  center"  so 
informative  and  intriguing  that  someone 
in  the  family  turns  to  it  every  day.  In 
this  one  volume,  there  is  accurate  in- 
formation on  literally  every  subject 
known  to  man.  It  equals  in  printed 
material  an  I8-volume  encyclopedia  — 
always  open  and  inviting  use,  rather 
than  buried  in  a  bookcase. 

As  your  family  develops  the  "look  it  up" 
habit,  their  daily  questions  will  be 
answered  accurately,  for  the  New  Inter- 
national   is    relied    on   by   schools    and 


libraries  as  "the  Supreme  Authority"  of 
the  English-speaking  world. 

Examine  this  famous  Merriam-Webster 
at  your  department,  book,  or  stationery 
store.  Its  3.350  pages  (more  than  600,- 
000  entries ! )  will  convince  you  that 
here  is  a  wonderful  investment  for  your 
family  and  yourself. 

WARNING:  Webster's  New  Interna- 
tional Dictionary  is  never  available  as 
a  premium  in  any  "free"  offers.  Always 
look  for  the  Merriam-Webster  trade- 
mark to  protect  yourself  from  inferior 
substitutes.  G.  &  C.  Merriam  Co.,  Spring- 
field 2,  Mass. 


INSIST    ON 

MERRIAM- 
WEBSTER 

•    •    • 

Webster's  New  Collegiate  Dictionary 
($5  and  up)  is  the  only  desk  dictionary 
based  on  the  New  International.  It  is  the 
dictionary  required  or  recommended  by 
nearly  all  schools  and  colleges. 


92 


"a  must" 


"invaluable" 


"entertaining" 


Mill* 


ARTHUR 
KNIGHT'S 

The 
Liveliest 

Art 


A  Panoramic  History 
of  the  Movies 

". . .  an  analytical,  well-written 
and  intelligently  planned  up- 
dating of  the  history  of  the  film, 
done  with  compassion  for  the 
medium  and  a  grasp  of  its  in- 
tricacies ...  a  volume  that  not 
only  reads  well,  but  is  crammed 
with  the  kind  of  information 
that  is  indispensable  to  any 
student ...  of  the  motion  pic- 
ture... a  'must'  for  industrytes' 
bookshelves."  —Variety 

"Mr.  Knight's  book  is  enter- 
taining, but  you'll  go  to  it  for 
information  .  .  .  lively  and  in- 
spiring story  . . ." 

-N.  Y.  Herald  Tribune 

". . .  the  most  complete,  compre- 
hensive, up-to-date  survey  of 
the  film  now  available  in  Eng- 
lish..." -  Richard  Griffith, 
Curator,  Museum  of  Modern 
Art  Film  Library 

"...  a  fascinating  story  ...  in- 
valuable ...  to  any  layman  . . . 
It  will  make  his  movie-going 
experience  richer  and  keener." 
—Rouben  Mamoulian 

Illustrated    $7.50 


60  Fifth  Ave..  N.Y.  11,  N.Y. 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 

club  sandwich,  with  fust  a  layer  of 
third-person  narration  and  then  a 
layer  of  Raju's  autobiography  and 
so  on,  is  unnecessarily  tedious  and 
arbitrary.  Yet  it  is  for  the  most 
part  an  entertaining  book,  with  im- 
plications about  the  good  and  evil 
in  human  nature  that  cannot  be  dis- 
missed lightly.  The  background  of 
modern    Indian    liie    is    fascinating. 

I  N  The  Mackerel  Plaza  (Little, 
Brown,  $3.75)  Peter  De  Vries  has 
written  a  very  funny  novel  about 
a  man  who  is  the  exact  opposite 
ol  Raju;  De  Vries'  main  character 
is  a  young  clergyman  in  a  fashion- 
able Connecticut  suburb  who  re- 
fuses to  be  whatever  his  parishioners 
expect  him  to  be,  and  who  ends  up 
the  captain  of  his  soul  but  without 
any  parishioners. 

In  so  far  as  it  is  anything  more 
than  a  merry  romp,  The  Mackerel 
Plaza  is  a  satire  on  the  kind  of  at- 
tenuated modern  religion  in  which 
psychotherapy,  political  sentimen- 
tality, and  humanitarian  zeal  re- 
place theology.  The  young  clergy- 
man sometimes  preaches  on  a  text 
from  Havelock  Ellis,  and  his  schol- 
arly activity  is  directed  to  the 
writing  of  a  vast  work  of  pseudo- 
anthropology  which  Alfred  A. 
Knopf  wisely  refrains  from  publish- 
ing (Mr.  Knopf  plays  a  delightful 
role  in  the  book).  At  the  end  De 
Vries  gives  the  True  View  on  re- 
ligious matters  in  a  passage  that 
will  not  cause  Paul  Tillich  and  the 
Niebuhr  brothers  to  look  to  their 
laurels  as  speculative  theologians. 

But  presumably  nobody  will  read 
De  Vries  for  spiritual  guidance,  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  he  manages 
to  get  in  a  good  many  well-placed 
licks  at  some  of  the  more  dubious 
aspects  of  the  current  revival  of 
interest  in  religion. 

The  story  told  in  The  Mackerel 
Plaza  is  too  complex  to  summarize 
and  too  hilarious  to  spoil  in  the 
attempt.  It  is  wonderfully  ingen- 
ious, with  a  topsy-turviness  that  is 
irresistible.  But  the  book  has  one 
serious  defect:  De  Vries'  sense  of 
humor  has  deserted  him  in  naming 
his  hero.  What's  so  funny  about  a 
name  like  Mackerel? 

TWO  brilliant  books  from  abroad 
that  deserve  more  than  the  mention 
they  will  receive  here  are  an  account 


A   Bedtime  Story  for  Adults! 
by  CYNTHIA  ANN  VAUTIER 


Here  is  a  thoroug 
ly     seasoned,     rril 
ture   satire   on  tl 
society     in     whi'l 
"youth"  is  a  cut  J 
youth    of    any 
at   all.   No   self-i 
specting     man 
woman    grows   i' 
here,   and    the  c 
izens  are  very  se 
conscious  about 
Can  this  be  heave 


26   at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept    hm- 

25  BEACON  ST..  BOSTON,  MASS; 
Send  me  postpaid: 
Q  THE    IDEAL   AGE  $3.5 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name I 

St  reet J 

City State 


. Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.i 


The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 


A  Novel  by  Robert  colb< 

Man    the    atci 
smasher    can    4 
new  satellites 
the     skies     an 
the     wander 
L  stars — but  he  < 
not   control < 
rancorous     t , 
that    lives    In  I 
own   viscera    .1 
this  is  the  stor| 
a    government 
entist  who  trie 
do    both.    D 
miss  this! 


23 

at  your  bookstore  or  write 

to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept. 

Ha 

25 

BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MA.' 

Send  me  postpaid: 

D 

D 

THE   FUTURE   LIKE 

A  BRIDE 

Your  new  catalog 

?' 

N 

imp 

Rtrept 

Citv                                                 State 

.Check Money  Order  No  CO.l 

Bt  Sortie  re$\ 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  year  fl 

America*  £reed#\ 


by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 

Cyprus  in  the  years  1953-56, 
ter  Lemons  (Dutton,  $3.50),  by 
:  English  writer  Lawrence  Dur- 
1,  author  oi  Justine,  and  a  new 
lection  of  six  short  stories  by 
oert  Camus,  Exile  and  the  King- 
m  (Knopf,  $3.50). 
Durrell  went  to  Cyprus  simply 
rause  he  wanted  to  live  there  (he 
a  great  admirer  and  student  of 
:  Eastern  Mediterranean  region 
i  speaks  modern  Greek),  and  his 
ak  starts  off  as  a  leisurely  and  ex- 
mely  good  piece  of  travel  writing, 
t  fairly  soon  after  he  had  settled 
wn  the  trouble  over  the  union  of 
prus  with  Greece  began,  and  Dur- 
1,  as  an  Englishman  and  a  devoted 
md  of  the  Cypriots,  found  him- 
in  the  thick  of  the  tragic  con- 
t. 

U though  he  served  for  a  time 
press  adviser  to  the  British  gov- 
ment  in  Cyprus,  Durrell  is  no 
ologist  for  Britain;  he  wants 
atever  is  best  for  the  Cypriots, 
ugh  apparently  he  is  no  longer 
e  exactly  what  that  is  or  how 
is  to  be  achieved.  His  account 
the  island's  past  is  too  elliptical 
allusive  to  be  helpful  to  the 
orant  reader,  but  his  description 
the  island  itself,  of  the  tangled 
hies  that  lie  behind  the  revolt, 
of  what  day-to-day  life  is  like 
le  the  revolt  is  going  on  are 
orting  of  a  very  high  order. 

nothing  else,  Exile  and  the 
gdom  bears  witness  to  Camus' 
aordinary  versatility.  The  half- 
en  stories  in  the  book  are  not 
y  highly  various  in  their  settings 
they  also  display  a  dazzling  array 
techniques.  Some  are  more  or 
conventional  technically,  includ- 
the  two  stories  I  like  best  (prob- 
|  because  I  understand  them): 
ie  Silent  Men,"  a  moving  ac- 
nt  of  a  group  of  workmen  in  a 
ig  industry  who  lose  their  strike, 

"The  Guest,"  a  fine  story  about 
rench  schoolmaster  in  Algeria 
the  Arab  prisoner  he  is  sup- 
:d  to  guard.  "The  Artist  at 
rk"  is  a  bitterly  witty  allegory; 
ie  Renegade"  is  a  surrealistic 
y  on  freedom  and  bondage; 
ie  Growing  Stone,"  another  fine 
y,  is  symbolic  in  its  method.  Ex- 
md  the  Kingdom  is  a  small  book, 

it  contains  an  unusual  amount 
iterary  skill. 


FIRST  BLOOD 

The  Story  of  Fort  Sumter 


author  of  Sickles,  the  Incredible 

"Nobody  has  told  [the  Sumter  story] 
in  one  place  as  vividly  and  completely 
as  Mr.  Swanberg  does  in  'first  blood.' 
The  drama  and  the  tragedy  of  Sumter 
come  through  to  the  reader  as  in  few 
other  books.  The  author  has  been  un- 
usually successful  in  catching  the 
psychology  of  the  situation." 

T.  HARRY  WILLIAMS, 

The  Saturday  Review 
$5.95 


THEODORE  ROOSEVELT 

The  Formative  Years:  1858-1886 


"This  book,  for  the  period  it  cov- 
ers, is  the  best  biography  of 
Theodore  Roosevelt." 

—  ALICE  ROOSEVELT  LONGWORTH 

Volume  I  in  the  projected  four 
volume  biography  of  Roosevelt  is 
unique  because  the  author  is  the 
first  to  have  access  to  the  family 
papers  and  to  many  private  collec- 
tions of  correspondence. 
A  vivid  account  of  Theodore 
Roosevelt's  childhood,  his  battle 
for  health,  his  career  at  Harvard, 
his  first  marriage,  and  his  early 
stormy  political  struggles.  $10.00 


GEORGE 
WASHINGTON 

VOLUME  VII:  First  in  Peace 

By  John  Alexander  Carrol! 

and  IViary  Wells  Ashworth  ^j>: 

Douglas  Southall  Freeman's  great 
biography  is  brought  to  a  triumphant 
conclusion  in  this  final  volume  writ- 
ten by  his  two  associates  "with  such 
skill  that  virtually  no  readers  will  be 
aware  of  the  fact  that  this  final  vol- 
ume was  not  written  by  Mr.  Freeman 
himself."  —  carl  bridenbaugh, 

New  York  Times  Book  Review 
$10.00 


CHARLES  SCRIBNERS  SONS 


A  Hard  Look 

at  the  Department 

of  Defense 


By  WILLIAM  R.  KINTNER 

in  association  with 

JOSEPH    I.  COFFEY 

and  RAYMOND  J.  ALBRIGHT 

Responsible  officers  with  Pent- 
agon experience  speak  frank- 
ly about  what's  wrong  with 
our  defense  system  and  offer 
proposals  for  the  kind  of  re- 
organization that  will  lead  to 
greater  security. 


The  authors  describe  the 
evolution  of  the  Defense  De- 
partment; they  suggest  areas 
for  improvement  and  point 
out  major  shortcomings  such 
as  the  waste  and  duplication 
of  effort  resulting  from  inter- 
service  rivalry,  the  lack  of 
coordination  between  the  mil- 
itary services  and  the  civilian 
command,  etc.;  and  they  out- 
line specific  measures  for  de- 
veloping a  stronger  and  more 
flexible  defense  structure. 


This  program,  at  once 
constructive  and  non-political, 
confronts  frankly  the  human 
strains  and  stresses  required 
to  create  the  defense  organi- 
zation we  need.  "Nowhere 
else,  so  far  as  I  know,  is 
given  so  clearly  and  authori- 
tatively the  information  in 
regard  to  the  department  of 
defense  which  the  citizen 
needs  in  order  to  make  up  his 
mind  on  important  matters  of 
policy."— August  Heckscher 

Sponsored  by  the 

M.I.T.  Center  for 

International  Studies 

$4.50  at  your  bookstore  or  from 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  N.  Y.  16 


BOOKS 


in  brief 


KAMIKHINE  GAUSS  JACKSON 


FICTION 

North   from   Rome,   l>\    Helen    \l.i< 
limes. 

In  this  novel  Miss  Maclnnes  com- 
pares with  the  Qmbrian  masters 
in  the  affection  and  detail  with 
which  she  paints  the  i  leai  ail  and 
beloved  minutiae  oi  the  Italian  hill 
towns  north  of  Rome.  The  towns 
and  Rome  itself  are  background 
for  a  highly  intricate  plot  involving 
an  American  playwright;  a  beau- 
tiful if  somewhat  Erail-reed  Amer- 
ican girl;  Italians— very  very  good 
and  very  very  bad;  and  Communists, 
mixed  into  all  kinds  ol  skulduggery 
with  an  international  narcotics  ring. 
The  story  is  told  with  Miss  Mac- 
lnnes' impeccable  taste,  her  work- 
manlike construction,  her  loving 
attention  to  scholarly  decoration. 
The  author  of  Above  Suspicion 
never   lets  her  readers  down. 

Harcourt,   Brace,  $3.95 


The  Greengage  Summer,  by  Rumer 
Godden. 

Alter  reading  Miss  Maclnnes' 
tightly  plotted,  crisply  told  sioi\ 
of  international  machinations  on 
a  very  intellectual  level  it  is  a  re- 
laxing contrast  to  come  to  Miss 
Godden's  effortless  and  apparently 
simple  tale  of  five  English  children 
whose  summer  holiday  in  a  French 
pension  has  such  an  unforeseen  de- 
nouement. The  action  starts  with 
deceptive  calm  and  one  delights  in 
the  feel  and  taste  and  smell  of  high 
summer  in  the  French  provincial 
town  outside  of  Paris.  No  effort 
is  asked  of  the  reader.  One  sinks 
into  the  atmosphere,  is  utterly  ab- 
sorbed by  the  daily  activities  which 
are  not  in  the  least  intricate  or 
difficult  to  follow,  and  the  mounting 
tension  creeps  up  on  the  reader 
unaware.  And  then  .  .  .  Well,  see 
for  yourself. 

A  beautiful  story,  for  all  its  terror 
—of  the  end  of  a  season;  the  end  of 
innocence;  and  the  beginning  of 
wisdom— told  with  humor,  warmth, 
insight,  and  restraint. 

Viking,  $3.50 


A  Novel  by 

DANIEL  CURLEY 

This  is  the  story  of 
a  sensitive  man's 
search  for  a  simple 
answer  to  a  simple 
question  —  and  with 
it  a  way  of  life 
thai  will  lie  worth! 
dedicating  a  lifetime  , 
to  achieving.  In  the 
search  Michael  Peg- 
nam  finds  despair, j 
violence,  and  ec-l 
stasy.  ...  A  sincere) 
and  penetrating 
first  novel  by  the! 
author  of  That  MaT-\ 
lU:d  of  ProA 
crustes,  and  Otheri] 
Stories. 

$3.50J 

1 

22    0.t    your   bookstore   or   write   to  % 

BEACON  PRESS  dcpt    hm  4 

25   BEACON  ST..  BOSTON,  MASS. 

Send  me  postpaid: 

D  HOW  MANY  ANGELS  $3.50    j 


□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 

S  t  reet 

City State- 


Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s     I 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

Cstito/tc  fbuMr,  /9SB\ 

by  PAUL  BLANSHARD  S3.95 


.because 
ihey  need  the  money 

for  DISASTERS   •  ARMED   FORCES 
BLOOD   BANK  •   TRAINING   PROGRAMS 


WHICH   SCHOOL  or   COLLEC 

is   best  for 
YOUR   son   or   daughter? 

I  can  help  you  decide.  Over  thirty  y< rs 
in  school  work  and  guidance  court)- 
ing.  $5.00  for  your  first  inquiry ;:» 
charges   thereafter. 

MRS.    LEWIS   D.   BEMENT 

Deerfield,  Massachusetts 


FOR  MORE  VACATION  FUN 

E1CIMLET 

YRS.  TRAVEL-WISE  TRAVELERS  GUIDE 

iere  and  How  to  Go.  What  to  See.  The  Costs. 
NADA  thru  FLORIDA,  and  Enroute.  Nassau, 
ba.  West  Indies.  Includes  N.Y.C.  228  PAGES 
is  Price  $1.00  postpaid.  Address  The  Gimlet, 
ot.  21-H,  745-5th  Ave.,  N.Y.C.  22. 

pical  Hotels  Recommended  &  Described 

iSSAU,   BAHAMAS  ST.    PETERSBURG,    FLA. 

SUWANNEE      HOTEL, 


ILOT  HOUSE  CLUB, 
)n  East  Bay  Street, 
ipposite  the  Famous 
JASSAU  YACHT 
IAVEN,  OFFERS  THE 
1TMOST  IN  OUT- 
)OOR  LIVING  com 
lined  with  all  the 
omforts,  conven- 
ences  and  services 
or  which  the  Pilot 
louse  Club  is  noted, 
'ou  will  enjoy  the 
iciutical  atmosphere 
/here  Yachtsmen 
rom  the  world  over 
ongregate  and  ex- 
hange  yarns.  The 
lining  Room  has 
arned  an  enviable 
eputation  for  its  ex- 
ellent  food  and  spe- 
ial  daily  Native 
>ishes,  all  of  which 
an  be  served  on  the 
:LUB'S  PRIVATE 
ATIO,  AROUND  THE 
ALT  WATER  SWIM- 
MING POOL,  or  in 
le  air-conditioned 
lining  Room.  The  at- 
'active  Club  Bar  is 
Iso  air-conditioned, 
s  are  the  50  lux- 
rious  bedrooms  so 
eautifully  and  taste- 
jlly  decorated.  Open 
II  Year  (Special 
ummer  Rates)  — Denis 
Hickman,  Owner 
Igr. 


(AN  ADDRESSOF  DIS- 
TINCTION), right  in 
the  heart  of  down- 
town St;  Petersburg, 
beautifully  situated 
opposite  Mirror  Lake. 
250  delightful  rooms, 
each  with  private  bath 
and  shower.  3  dining 
rooms,  bar  and  cock- 
tail lounge,  DRIVE-IN 
ENTRANCE,  GARAGE 
ON  PREMISES,  AIR- 
CON  Dl  T  ION  I  NG 
AVAILABLE,  ENJOY 
THE  BEAUTIFUL  Ml- 
ROBAR-CORALROOM 
where  Southern  style 
Food  is  the  keynote 
and  Spoon  Bread  is 
featured  daily,  one 
of  the  places  to  dine 
in  St.  Petersburg.  The 
Banquet  Room,  Re- 
ception Room,  Gar- 
den Room  are  popu- 
lar. Shuffle  Board 
Courts,  a  Putting 
Green  and  Sun- Deck 
are  added  attrac- 
tions. OPEN  ALL  YEAR. 
Summer  Rates,  Low 
Special  Family  Rates. 
Paul  Brown,  Vice- 
President  and  Gen- 
eral Manager. 


BL  PORAPO 

ritish  Guiana,  Brazil,  Venezuela 

by  MICHAEL  SWAN 
chly  Illustrated  with  Photographs  and 
ips 

Here  is  the  fabu- 
lous true  adventure 
of  a  man  who  heard 
the  voice  beyond  the 
mountains  and  had 
to  go  and  see  for 
himself  —  British 
Guiana  and  the  un- 
tamed forests  .  .  . 
customs,  lore  and 
music  untouched  by 
outside  civilizations. 
Fascinating  reading 
for  anyone  who 
lusts  for  adventure. 
$4.95 

------------------I 

29    at  your  bookstore  or  write  to  I 

BEACON  PRESS  dept  hm-4 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 

Send  me  postpaid: 

U  THE    MARCHES    OP 

EL  DORADO  $4.95 

G  Your  new  catalog 

Name 

Street 

City State 


— Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 

'-........  ........ ..-.J 

%tfi6//c  fewer,  /?& 


by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 


$3.95 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

APRIL     BOOKS 

SUMMER     GARDENS 

For  jDeople  who  care  about  gar- 
dens, to  sit  clown  in  front  of  a  pile 
of  garden  books  is  like  sitting  down 
in  front  of  a  bowl  of  peanuts.  You 
can't  let  them  alone.  On  my  table 
at  the  moment  are  six  books  with 
recent  publication  dates.  And  they 
are  as  varied  in  the  delights  they 
have  to  offer  as  the  peanuts  are 
monotone. 

America's  Garden  Book  (newly  re- 
vised and  illustrated)  by  James  and 
Louise  Bush-Brown.    Scribner,  §7.95 

The  Woman  Gardener,  by  Frances 
Perry.      Farrar,  Straus  &  Cudahy,  $5 

Gardens  and  Grounds  That  Take 
Care  of  Themselves,  by  Amelia 
Leavitt  Hill.        Prentice-Hall,  $3.95 

A   Joy   of   Gardening,    by   V.    Sack- 
ville  West.    A  Selection   for  Amer- 
icans, edited  by  Hermine  I.  Popper. 
Harper,  S3. 50 

The  Guide  to  Garden  Flowers,  by 

Norman  Taylor. 

Houghton  Mifflin,  $4.95 

The  House  Beautiful  Book  of  Gar- 
dens and  Outdoor  Living,  by  Joseph 
E.  Howland.  Doubleday,  $10 

To  the  serious  beginner,  the 
newly  revised  America's  Garden 
Booh  will  be  guide,  philosopher, 
and  much-needed  friend.  And  this 
applies  wherever  you  live  in  the 
U.  S.  A.  It  tells  how  to  construct 
and  keep  up  lawns,  paths,  fences, 
fountains;  how  to  design  and  plant 
any  kind  of  garden;  how  to  choose 
and  take  care  of  trees,  vegetables, 
flowers,  and  house  plants;  how  to 
control  pests  and  weeds;  how  to 
operate  coldframes  and  greenhouses. 
And  in  the  new  part  of  the  book 
there  are  sections  on  swimming 
pools,  flower  boxes,  "inviting  the 
birds,"  penthouse  gardens,  plants 
under  artificial  light,  mulches,  and 
lists  of  gardens  open  to  the  public 
in  forty-seven  states  (Nevada  alone 
has  none).  The  photographs  and 
diagrams  are  more  practical  and 
useful  than  dramatic  (no  color). 

Each  reader  will  turn  to  a  dif- 
ferent  section,  but  for  my  own  use 
and  delectation  I  find  I  have  under- 
lined such  things  as:  "There  are 
probably     more    examples    of    bad 


New  Borzoi  Books 


THE  MORMONS 

edited  by  WILLIAM  MULDER 
and  A.  RUSSELL  MORTENSEN 

A  fascinating  eyewitness  history 
of  the  Mormons,  told  through 
contemporary  accounts,  letters, 
newspaper  columns,  and  memoirs 
by  the  Mormons  themselves  and 
by  travelers,  journalists,  officials, 
and  sensation  seekers.  It  begins 
with  Joseph  Smith's  own  story  of 
how  he  discovered  the  fabulous 
gold  plates,  covers  the  reign  of 
Brigham  Young,  and  ends  with 
today's  "era  of  good  feeling." 
512  pages.  $6.75 


THE  POWER 


:kn: 


Hawthorne,  Poe,  Melville 

by  HARRY  LEVIN 

A  searching  reinterpretation  of 
the  classic  American  masters  of 
fiction  —  maintaining  that  the 
characteristic  mode  of  the  Amer- 
ican novel  is  not  realism  but  the 
imaginative,  symbolic,  self-ques- 
tioning romance.  $4.00 


LOUIS  PASTEUR 

by  PASTEUR  VALLERY-RADOT 

An  intimate  and  memorable 
biography  in  which  Pasteur's 
grandson  narrates  the  amazing 
career — and  sometimes  anguished 
private  life — of  the  man  who 
opened  the  modern  era  in  the  war 
against  disease,  a  great  life  in 
brief.  $3.00 

At  most  bookstores 
ALFRED  A.  KNOPF,  Publisher 


96 


Five  brave  men, 

a  coward,  and  a 

woman  suspected 

of  treason 

on   a  strange  and  violent  journey 
across  the  Mexican  desert 

They 
Came  to 
Cordura 


A  novel  by  GLENDON  SWARTHOVT 

that  will  take  its  place  beside  such 
American  classics  as  The  Red  Badge 
of  Courage  and  The  Ox-Bow  Incident 

S3. 50,  now  at  your  bookstore 
RANDOM  HOUSE 


LYOFTOISTOY 


Edited  with  an  Introduction  by 
CHARLES  R.  JOY 

The  compiler  has 
gone  through  the 
whole  Tolstoy  cor- 
pus and  has  culled 
the  supreme  expres- 
sions of  that  genius 
at  its  apogee.  He 
collects  them  here  in 
23  categories,  such 
as  "Truth,"  "Rea- 
son," "The  Moral 
Law,"  "True  Reli- 
gion," "The  Mean- 
ing of  Human  Life," 
etc.  A  companion 
volume  to  Joy's  in- 
comparable Schweit- 
zer Anthology. 

$4.95 


r-"-"-""----------i 

21     at  your  bookstore  or  write  to  | 

BEACON  PRESS  dept   HM-4 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid: 

□  LYOF  TOLSTOY:  AN 
ANTHOLOGY  $4.95 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 


Street- 
City 


-State- 


-Checfc 


-Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


Be  Zonioreac/ 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

American  freecfm  4 

by  PAUL  BLANSHARD  $3.95 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

foundation  planting  in  America 
than  any  other  type  of  planting." 
This  on  page  13,  followed  by  a 
refreshing  and  informative  blast  on 
what  is  so  bad  about  it.  "New  clay 
pots  should  always  be  soaked  over- 
night before  they  are  used,"  it  tells 
me.  I  hovered  over  the  section  on 
hanging  pots,  though  I  never  owned 
one.  1  marked  William  Penn's  in- 
structions to  the  three  commissioners 
whom  he  sent  to  lay  out  the  city 
of    Philadelphia: 

"Let  every  house  be  placed,  il 
the  Person  pleases,  in  ye  middle 
o(  its  platt  as  to  the  breadth  way 
of  it,  that  so  there  may  be  ground 
on  each  side,  for  Gardens  or  Or- 
chards, or  fields,  yt  it  may  be  a 
grecne  Country  Towne,  which  will 
never  be  burnt  and  will  allwayes 
be  wholesome." 

1  read  every  word  on  "Rock  and 
Wall  Gardens"  (again,  I've  never 
had  one).  I  pored  over  lists  about 
annuals— kind  of  soil,  exposures 
they  like,  how  tall  they  grow,  when 
to  plant.  Trees  ditto.  And  in  the 
excellent  section  on  mulches  I  found 
"Peat  moss  should  be  thoroughly 
moistened  before  it  is  applied." 
Complete  news  to  an  enthusiastic 
peat-moss  user.  One  man's  obvious 
will  be  another's  revelation,  of 
course,  but  there's  something  in  this 
book  for  everyone. 

The  Woman  Gardener,  as  the  title 
indicates,  is  somewhat  more  special 
with  emphasis  as  one  might  guess 
on  arrangement,  both  indoors  and 
in  the  garden:  "Generally  speaking 
the  softer  shades  look  best  near  a 
building,  with  the  deepest  colours 
kept  for  distant  views  across  the 
lawn."  (The  spelling  of  "colour" 
gives  away  the  fact  that  this  book 
is  written  by  an  Englishwoman  and 
has  not,  I  suspect,  been  as  carefully 
edited  for  America  as  V.  Sackville 
West's   A    Joy   of   Gardening.) 

With  our  northern  winters,  for 
instance,  I  wonder  whether  autumn 
sowing  is  as  successful  everywhere 
here  as  it  is  in  England  (though 
I've  tried  it  in  Massachusetts  and 
had  it  work  surprisingly  well— once 
—with  petunias).  Mrs.  Perry  says: 
"Although  all  annuals  are  not  suit- 
able for  autumn  sowing,  the  follow- 
ing may  be  tried  with  reasonable 
chance  of  success.  Cornflower,  lark- 
spur,  eschscholtzia,  viscaria,   annual 


A  Novel  by 

MOULOUD   MAMMERI 


An  Algerian  Arab 
takes  the  reader  be- 
hind the  headlines 
in  North  Africa 
and  .shows  the  hu- 
man fare  of  the  up- 
roar there.  "Mam- 
meri  has  produced 
a  memorable  and 
moving  picture  of 
the  clash  of  differ- 
ent worlds.  ...  A 
deeply  disturbing 
novel  that  shows 
Mammeri  to  be  a 
writer  of  talent  and 
integrity." 

Times  Literary 

Supplement 

$3.50 


20    at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept  hm-4 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid: 
Q  THE  SLEEP  OF 

THE  JUST  $3.50 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 

Street—- 

City State 

Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


Bt  Sortie  re&d 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

America*  freedom  i 


by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 


$3.95 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

A-YOGI 

by  Paramhansa  Yogananda 


The  Inspiring  Story  of 
A  Man  Who  Found  God 

"I  am  grateful  to  you  for  granting 
me  some  insight  into  this  fascinating 
world."  Thomas  Mann, 

Nobel  prizeman 

.,  »■■  Self-Realization 

B„„i',"  Fellowship,  Dept.  AH-4» 

Bookstores        los  A       fes  6SH  Calif.  » 

$4.00 


All 


subjects 
Family  and 
pleted.       All 


all     la 


Also    Genealogies     ■ 

Incomplete    sets    cc 

mbers    supplied.       Si 

n.        We    rep 


_  • ■  ■-. . 

own     Histories.        Inc. 

lagaxine  back  numbei 
us  your  usi  of  wants.  No  oblig 
quickly   at    lowest   prices. 

(We  also  supply  all  current  books  at  retail  store  pr\ 
— Postpaid,   as  well  as  all   books  reviewed,  adverti'j 
or  listed  in  this  issue  of  Harper's  Magazine.) 
AMERICAN   LIBRARY  SERVICE 

117    West    48th    Street.    Oept.    H,    New    York    36 
N.B.    We   also   BUY    books   and   magazines 


AUTOGRAPHS  WANTED 

Top  cash  paid  for  letters  and  doc 
uments  of  famous  people.  Ask  fo 
free  brochure,  "How  To  Sell  You 
Autographs". 

Charles  M.  Hamilton  Autographs,  lr< 

515  Madison  Ave.,  New  York  22,  N.  Y.      EL  5-3' 


* 


97 


Have  you  read  the 
winners  of  the 

National 

Book 
Awards 

Chosen  from  the  many  thou- 
sands of  books  published  in  the 
past  year,  these  three  have  been 
cited  as  the  most  distinguished. 

Fiction 

THE  WAPSHOT 
CHRONICLE 

John  Cheever 

HARPER   &   BROTHERS 


Non-Fiction 


THE  LION  AND 
THE  THRONE 

atherine  Drinker  Bowen 

ATLANTIC-LITTLE,   BROWN 


I  Poetry 


PROMISES 

[Robert  Penn  Warren 

RANDOM  HOUSE 

These  books  are  on  sale 
at  your  bookstore 

National  Book  Awards 

are  sponsored  by: 
merican  Book  Publishers  Council 
American  Booksellers  Association 
Book  Manufacturers  Institute 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

scabious  and  chrysanthemum,  ni- 
gella."  .  .  .  There  is  an  excellent 
long  chapter  on  "The  Herb  Gar- 
den," a  rich  mixture  of  history  and 
helpful  advice.  The  chapter  on  cut- 
tings is  splendid  too— "New  Plants 
from  Old." 

In  the  chapter  on  "House  Plants" 
I  learn  (attention  New  Yorkers): 
"if  your  tap  water  is  heavily  chlori- 
nated allow  it  to  stand  for  a  day 
before  use."  And:  "we  must  en- 
courage humidity  in  their  neigh- 
bourhood by  all  the  means  in  our 
power,  for  it  is  the  real  key  [her 
italics]  to  success  with  indoor  plants. 
.  .  .  Use  an  atomizer  or  scent  spray 
filled  with  water  the  temperature 
of  the  room  and  spray  the  foliage 
weekly— daily  with  some  plants." 
From  this  book  I  first  learned  the 
lovely  word  "tilth"— meaning  well- 
cultivated  soil.  And  this:  "Since 
ripening  apples  and  tomatoes  give 
off  ethylene  gas,  these  should  not 
be  stored  in  a  room  with  house 
plants." 

Gardens  arid  Grounds  That  Take 
Care  of  Themselves  is  a  particular 
boon  to  those  who  have  to  be  week- 
end gardeners.  Mrs.  Hill  has  taken 
their  problem  into  account  as  well 
as  the  general  shortage  of  labor  and 
she  gives  some  fine  sensible  advice 
in  the  first  chapter,  "Before  Putting 
Spade  to  Earth."  After  she's  made 
you  see  that  you  must  trim  your 
sails  to  the  possibilities,  she  goes  on 
to  tempt  you  with  varieties  of  plant- 
ing and  gives  very  specific  instruc- 
tion on  shrubs,  vegetables,  herbs, 
flowers,  fruits,  and  berries,  and  in 
"Special  Projects  for  Fun"  she  makes 
suggestions  for  The  Water  Garden— 
The  Alpine  Garden— The  Swamp 
Garden— A  Garden  for  'the  Birds— 
The  Night  Garden— The  Children's 
Garden— Other  Gardens.  And  one 
whole  chapter  on  "A  Minimum 
of  Tools." 

AFTER  these  extremely  practical- 
minded  volumes  it  is  a  new  kind 
of  pleasure  to  come  to  A  Joy  of 
Gardening  which  is  fun  to  read  even 
if  you  never  plan  to  put  trowel 
or  spade  to  earth,  yet  is  full  of 
useful  information  too.  Here  I 
learned  about  "layering,"  whereby 
one  grows  new  roots  on  a  branch 
while  it  is  still  attached  to  the 
mother  tree  or  vine.  By  this  method 


SIGNIFICANT 
BOOKS  ON 

America  I 


ra 


REFLECTIONS 

ON 

AMERICA 

"Maritain's  personal 
grace  and  the  felicity  of 
his  English  prose  are 
apparent  all  through  his 
new  little  volume  .  .  . 
which  is  in  effect  a 
clear-eyed,  richly 
thoughtful  love  letter  to 
the  land  in  which  he  has 
lived  so  long." 

— Newsweek  $3.50 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


98 


A  Stimulating 

New  Book 
from  Beacon! 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

AHtertca*  Pre&/oma>ut 

by  PAUL   BLANSHARD 

The  first  edition  of 
Blanshard's  famous 
classic  has  stood 
like  Gibraltar  over 
the  years  afrainst 
every  criticism.  In 
this  new  edition,  he 
provides  a  Calendar 
of  Significant 
Events,  1047-57  ; 
adds  fresh  analyses 
of  new  Supreme 
Court  decisions  ; 
hundreds  of  new 
documentary 
sources.  .  .  .  The  in- 
dispensable refer- 
ence book.  $3.95 


27    at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm-4 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid: 

□  AMERICAN  FREEDOM  AND 
CATHOLIC  POWER  1958     $3.95 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 


Street- 
City 


.State- 


Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 

fc. ................. .--J 

The  Mentally  111 
Can  Come  Back 

Yet  thousands  are  without  hope! 
...because  they  cannot  get 
the  treatment  they  need 
Give  them  the  chance 
you'd  want  for 
yourself! 


Give! 


'*■  ^^^  ,v 


Mental  Health 
Campaign 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

one  can  lake  the  new  branch  ol 
a  grapevine,  lor  instance,  loop  it 
down  into  the  ground,  and  grow 
another  new  branch  for  anothei 
new  loop,  etc.  "Fourthly."  she  says, 
enumerating  the  advantages  ol  this 
kind  ol  husbandry,  "you  can  il  you 
wish,  grow  this  serialized  vine  a 
mile  long.  What  a  thought!  Fifthly, 
you  can  eat  the  grapes." 

This  is  a  perfect  book  for  bed- 
side reading,  with  its  short  divisions, 
iis  pleasing  format,  and  its  quick 
hits  of  information.  Try  the  page 
and  a  half  on  "Bringing  a  Summer 
Look  to  Winter."  And  consider  the 
humility-inducing  wisdom,  ol  the 
following:  "People  who  are  not  in- 
terested in  flowers  are  not.  interested 
in  flowers." 

The  Guide  to  Garden  Flowers 
can  be  enjoyed  by  active  or  passive 
gardeners— planters  or  viewers— pro- 
vided   only    that    you    are    not    one 

ol  those  who  just  aren't  interested 
in  flowers.  This  book  is  less  detailed 
about  how  to  grow  plants.  It  con- 
centrates largely  on  shapes,  colors, 
names,  and  sizes,  and  contains  the 
most  exquisite  and  delicate  colored 
illustrations  by  Eduardo  Salgado  icj 
help  in  the  identification.  It  gives 
you  "common  n'mies,  Latin  names, 
family  names,  time  of  blooming, 
height,  color,  habit  of  growth,  cul- 
ture, soil  requirements,  fragrance." 
And  a  great  deal  of  satisfaction 
for  the  eyes  in  addition. 

The  House  Beautiful  Bool;  of 
Gardens  and  Outdoor  Living  is 
hugely  for  those  who  want  to  learn 
and  plan  by  looking.  It.  is  chief!) 
visual.  It  is  an  enormous  book  with 
906  illustrations,  106  photographs  in 
full  color,  741  photographs  in  "duo- 
tone,"  and  59  line  drawings  showing 
what  other  people  all  over  "the  coun- 
try have  clone  with  their  houses, 
planting,   and  gardens. 

In  addition  it  contains  succinct 
bits  of  warning  and  advice.  For 
instance,  it  asks  you  to  check  your 
garden  by  a  yardstick  of  mistakes 
that  gardeners  of  other  eras  have 
made:  "Yesterday  our  garden  .  .  . 
failed  to  encourage  relaxing;  you 
could  see  the  garden  only  if  you 
toured  through  it.  Failed  to  pro- 
vide extra  living  space  for  family 
from  early  spring  to  late  fall.  Failed 
to    give    privacy    to    house    or    yard. 


VERDE  VALLEY  SCHOOL 
SUMMER  CAMP 

Camp-and-Travel  in   AMAZING    ARIZONA 

Sum i  adventure  Foi  boys  and  girls,  ages  1()  1 5,  on 

165  w led  acres  neai    Arizona's  natural  wond^fl 

Camping  to  Grand  Canyon,  Painted  Desert,  IVtri- 
fied  Forest,  Navaho  and  Hopi  Indian  villa  ffl 
in. .11.   ECachina  ami   Snake  dances),    Riding,  switn- 

num;,   tennis,    archery.    Use  of  I 
^^  ■     A       modern    living   and    sports   fgj 

m  ♦■.  W^M        cilities,      infirmary       of  Verde 

\      ~  j£f  Valley    School     (  areful   super- 

vision.    Tutoring    available    in 
English  and   math.  6  weeks.       I 

Write   Box    102 
Sedona,  Arizona 


ECOLE   CHAMPLAIN— FRENCH   CAMP 

(!irl>   •;    Mi.    <in  Lake   Ch.impl.im.    Conversational    Ire 

with    European  counselors.   Tuition   includes  daily  ridil 

water  sports,  tennia,  dramatics,  music,  art.  Janci' 

35th  year.  Sundaj  Services.  Three  groups.  Please  Mate  an 

Mrs.  E.  F.  Chase.  123  Summit  Street.  Burlinoton,  Vermi 


Give  Your  Son  Adventure! 
Camp  indian   Waters   —   Hayward,    Wisconsin     J 
Boys    7-16.    (Iji    Teal    Lake    In    North    Woods.    Land  J 
watei    sports    featuring  bailing,    western   style   [rail   riui 
Canadian    rat  me    trips,    Mature    supervision 

Preston    Zimmerman,    7950    S.    Paxton,    Chicago    17,  I 


MARY  A.   BURNHAM  SCHOOL 

Foi    girls.      Thorough    college    preparation,      Fully 
credited,      Music    and     ah     emphasized,      College 
advantages.    Riding,   Skiing.   Swimming.   All   sports    ,\l 
sendieck  method    for   posture.     National   enrollme 
jreai    Gymnasium    Summer  School.  Newport.  U.I.  fatal 
Mrs     Georqe    W.    Emerson,    Box    43.    Northampton.    M 


MANLIUS 

Pounded  1809    For  boys.  Accredited,  Grades   7-12 
plete  college  preparation.  ROTC.  Highest  l.S.  Army  ra 
for  over  50  yrs.  126-aore  campui    Remedial  reading.  30 
Band    Summer  Session.  Tutorial  assistance,   catalog 
Robert    D.    Weekes,   The    Manlius   School.    Ma/ilius.    N 


' 


ley 


Whet  her  you  ar«'  changing  your  address  f'>r 
months  or  permanently,  you  will  want  to  receiv 
ever)  issue  of  Harper's  promptly.  When  advising 
oi  a  i  hange  of  address  please  indicate  both  the  ol 
and  new  address.  Please  allow  six  weeks  for  effect 
ing  tin-  i  hange. 

HARPER'S    MAGAZINE 

49   East  33rd  St.  New  York   16,   N.   T 


- 


THE   OLDEST   WRITERS'   SERVICE 

Literary  Agent,  established  37  years.  Manusc 
criticized,  revised,  typed,  marketed.  Special  attentio 
Book  manuscripts.   Poetry.   Catalogue  on   request. 

Agnes    M      Reeve, 
Dept.   B.  Frankllr 


ATHEIST  BOOKS 

32-page  catalogue  free. 
Trfth   SftKKER  Co.        38  Park  Bow,  New  York  8,  P 


OUT-OF-PRINT   BOOKS 

—AT   LOWEST  PRI' 

You   name   It — we   ftnd   It  I    Fast    service.    No  obliga 
bend  us  your  wants  t 

INTERNATIONAL    B00KFINDER8 
Box   3003-H.  Beverly   Hills. 


RARE   AND  OUT-OF-PRINT   BOOKS 

Free  Search  Service 
Inquiries    receive    immediate   &    personal    attei 

TOWER  BOOK  SHOP 
747  No.  La  Cienega  Blvd.  Los  Angeles  46, 


A  Novel  by  sylvia  press 


99 


nator  Cochrane's 
vestigations  of 
ubversives"  were 
aking  headlines 
ily,  and  the  coun- 
y  was  in  a  turmoil 
len  Ellen  Simon, 
trusted  security 
31-ker  for  12  years, 
is  suddenly  named 
r  questioning.  For 
.  weeks  she  was 
.dgered,  accused, 
■oss  -  questioned, 
er  private  life 
is  made  a  sham- 
es and  her  most 
•  rsonal  memories 
ire  defiled  .  .  .  but 
e  came  up  fight- 
g.  Author  knows 
:e  terrain  inti- 
itely.  $3.50 


95   at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm-4 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid: 

□  THE  CARE  OF  DEVILS     $3.50 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 

Street 

City States 


Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

America* freedom  $ 

by  PAUL  BLANSHARD  $3.95 

Let  these  MILTON  CROSS 
zords  show  you  how  to  folk 
your  way  to  SUCCESS! 

e  Dr.  Robinson  Course  in 

FFECTIVE  SPEAKING 

Narrated  by  MILTON  CROSS 

you  can  learn  to  speak  with  brilliance 
complete  self-confidence  on  any  occasion, 
ely  by  listening  to  these  self-teaching  rec- 
tor a  few  minutes  a  day.  Here,  in  10 
erful,  easy-to-follow  lessons,  Milton  Cross 
gs  you  the  secrets  which  helped  him  be- 
?  one  of  America's  finest  speakers.  Per- 
:d  by  Dr.  Walter  O.  Robinson,  these  meth- 
have  already  taught  thousands  to  speak 
it,  effortless  English.  Now  you  too,  can 
-qve  your  voice  and  speaking  ability  this 
zing  easy  way. 

get  5  double-size,  non-breakable  under 
nal  use,  standard  speed  records — or  one 
LP  record — in  a  beautifully  bound,  sturdy 
m,  along  with  complete  printed  instruc- 
3-  Mail  the  coupon  for  your  free  exam- 
'on  set  today — and  enjoy  the  rich  rewards 
rsuasive,  self-assured  voice  can  bring  you. 

TEN  DAYS'  FREE  EXAMINATION 


(PER  &  BROTHERS,  51  E.  33rd  St.,  N.  Y.  16 

lemen:  Please  send  me  the  Dr.  Walter  O.  Robin- 
Course  in  Effective  Speaking  for  ten  days*  free 
ilnation.  Within  that  time  I  win  remit  $8.95 
a  few  cents  mailing  charge,  or  return  the  course. 

Check  here  which  album  you  want 

D  Standard  78  r.p.m.   (1523) 

D  LP  33-1/3  r.p.m.   (1501) 


State V6 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

Failed  to  improve  the  climate  for 
house  and  garden.  Failed  to  remain 
attractive  through  all  twelve  months 
without  an  off  season.  Failed  to  sur- 
vive summer  heat  or  winter  cold 
unless  in  the  care  of  a  professional 
gardener  etc.   etc." 

Not  surprisingly,  it  is  probably 
this  note— the  labor  shortage,  the  do- 
it-yourself-leisure  angle,  the  (heaven- 
help-us)  "togetherness"  of  modern 
living— that  is  stressed  most  often 
and  makes  for  a  change  of  character 
in  all  the  new  garden  books.  And 
still  another  factor,  of  course,  is  the 
modern  house: 

"As  houses  use  glass  in  greater 
abundance,  their  gardens  become 
such  a  part  of  daily  living  that  off 
seasons  can't  be  tolerated.  No  plant 
can  be  part-time  occupant  of  the 
view.  Each  really  becomes  as  im- 
portant as  a  piece  of  furniture  or  a 
painting  that  you  live  with  365  days 
a  year." 

Well,  choose  the  book  that  an- 
swers your  peculiar  and  particular 
challenge,  and,  as  I  heard  a  radio 
announcer  say  yesterday  in  the  midst 
of  a  blizzard,  Be  Ready  For  Spring. 

FORECAST 

More  for  Gardeners 

While  we're  at  it  we  will  mention 
a  few  more  books  for  flower  and  tree 
fanciers  soon  to  be  published.  And 
forever  after— at  least  for  a  year- 
hold  our  peace.  Doubleday  is  bring- 
ing out  in  April  American  Rose 
Annual,  1958,  edited  by  Frank  H. 
Abramson.  On  April  22  Macmillan 
will  publish  JThe  Art  of  Foliage  and 
Flower  Arrangement  by  Anne  Hong 
Rutt,  and  Amaryllis  Manual  by 
Hamilton  P.  Traub.  Barrows  has  a 
book  called  The  Art  of  Drying 
Plants  by  Mabel  Squires,  scheduled 
for  May.  (Another  book  from  the 
same  publisher  should  be  out  just 
about  the  time  Harper's  reaches  the 
stands—  The  Tree  Identification 
Book,  based  almost  entirely  on  the 
use  of  photographs— 1,539  of  them— 
taken  by  Stephen  V.  Chelminski. 
The  text  is  by  George  W.  D.  Sy- 
monds.)  In  July  Holt  will  issue 
Pruning  Made  Easy:  Simple  Steps  to 
Successful  Pruning,  by  Edwin  F. 
Steffek;  and  in  August  comes  Hough- 
ton Mifflin's  A  Field  Guide  to  Trees 
and  Shrubs,  by  George  A.  Petrides. 
So  much  for  the  green  thumbs. 


\ 


*» 


.  "***%«-££..  - 


tmk 


w 


I  AM  GOING  TO 
BE  A  TEACHER" 

Six-year-old  Yoo  Song  Kim  en- 
tered the  first  grade  last  April.  He 
gets  good  marks  and  his  wish  to 
become  a  teacher  is  natural,  for  in 
Korea,  a  scholar  is  greatly  revered 
and  respected.  Yoo  Song,  who  was 
born  after  his  father  was  killed  in 
a  bombing  raid,  is  today  supported 
by  a  widowed  mother.  Despite  a 
crippled  left  hand,  Mrs.  Kim  is  a 
bread  peddler  and  works  late  into 
the  night  to  support  two  boys. 

If  determination  and  ambition 
are  all  that  is  needed,  both  boys 
will  be  educated  even  though  free 
education  stops  at  the  6th  grade. 
From  then  on  it  will  cost  Mrs. 
Kim  from  $80  to  $100  a  year  to 
send  each  child  to  school.  Won't 
you  help  Yoo  Song  or  others  like 
him? 

What  $10  a  month  can  do  for  a  child  like  Yoo  Song 
There  are  5,000  overseas  children 
like  Yoo  Song  who  are  sponsored 
through  Save  the  Children  Feder- 
ation and  receive  a  variety  of  food 
benefits,  clothing  and  many  other 
essentials.  You  can  have  a  child 
of  your  own  for  only  $10  a  month 
—  $120  a  year.  Won't  you  please 
help? 

SCF  National  Sponsors  include:  Mrs. 
Dwight  D.  Eisenhower,  Herbert  Hoover, 
Henry  R.  Luce,  Rabbi  Edgar  F.  Magnin, 
Norman  Rockwell,  Dr.  Ralph  W.  Sock- 
man. 

Registered  with  V '.  5.  State  Dept.  Advisory  Committee  on 
Voluntary  Foreign  Aid. 


Serving  Children  for  27  yrs.       HR  4-58 

SAVE    THE    CHILDREN 

FEDERATION 

345  East  46th  Street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Please  send  me  my  child's  name,  story  and  picture. 

I  want  to  sponsor  a  child  in  Korea  .  .  . 
Greece  .  .  .  France  .  .  .  Italy  .  .  .  Finland  .  .  . 
West  Germany  .  .  .  Austria  ...  or  where  the 
need  is  greatest  .  .  .  Enclosed  is  $10  for  1 
month  .  .  .  $30  for  1st  quarter  .  .  .  $120  for 
1  year  ...  I  cannot  be  a  sponsor  but  enclosed 
is  a  gift  of  $ 

Name 

Address    

City State 

Contributions    Are    Deductible    From     Income    Tax 


^e^RECORDINGS 


Edward  Tatnall  Canby 


son;il  appearance"  to  a  recorded  (I 
More  power,  then,  to  Bernstein,  I 
to  others  who  undoubtedly  will  foil 
up    his    inevitable     success. 


THE     PHILHARMONIC      PREVIEWS 


Readers  who  remember  this  column's 
comments  on  Leonard  Bernstein  .1 
\t.11  ago  (February  1957)  will  not  be 
surprised  at  the  announcement  from 
the  New  York  Philharmonic-Symphony 
now  headed  l>\  Bernstein,  that  it  will 
give  .1  new  weekly  series  <>l  informal 
"preview"  run-throughs  as  a  prelude  to 
the  regular  concerts.  This  is  a  bold. 
imaginative  step.  I  he  orchestra  will 
be  in  civvies,  the  conductoi  (Bernstein 
or  others  from  time  to  time)  will  com 
meiit  freely  when  he  feels  moved  to 
do  so.  "We  want  the  public  to  feel 
closer  to  the  orchestra,  to  the  conductor 
and   the   composers,"   says    Bernstein. 

Who  else  would  have  been  able  to 
swing  such  .1  reasonable  and  construc- 
tive new  deal?  Last  year,  1  noted  in 
connection  with  his  TV  appearances 
that  he  was  "an  original  and  exciting 
lecturer  until  his  conducting  career 
silenced  him."  Now  he  himself  has 
opened  the  way  to  his  own  best  method 
of  presentation— and  toward  a  return 
of  the  orchestra  to  a  great  tradition 
of  the  past,  where  open  preview  "re- 
hearsals" were  a  matter  of  course,  often 
many  times  in  a  row  before  the  final 
official   performance. 

Best  of  all,  there  will  begin,  at 
last,  the  urgently  needed  rapprochement 
between  the  concert  audience  and  the 
rest  of  our  new  music  listeners.  Bern- 
stein already  commands  the  other  media, 
from  musical  comedy  to  "classical"  TV, 


and  he  is  bound  to  fill  the  seating 
capacity  ol  ibis  new  venture.  I  haven't 
been  to  the  Philharmonic  lately,  but 
I     will    break    m\     neck    to    get     to    these 

Thursday  nighl  open  house  affairs,  and 
so  will  plenty  ol  other  non-concert-goers. 

It  has  become  dismally  clear  — in  this 
age  ol  I  V,  I M.  and  1  I-  thai  the  old- 
style  conceit  is  an  uncomfortable  ana 
chronism  for  most  Americans.  We  are 
used  to  daily  close-up,  informal  contact 
with  all  our  leaders— in  politics,  sports, 
culture,  and  entertainment.  We  demand 
a  similar  approach  in  every  area,  and 
rightly  so.  The  concert,  meanwhile,  has 
scarcely  changed  at  all.  Ilie  concert 
audience  shrinks  steadily  and  is  mote 
and  more  isolated  from  the  much  larger 
(and  more  enterprising)  mass  ol  listen- 
ers who  depend  on  the  new  informal 
media    lor  musical   experience. 

Muse  changes  are  enormous.  It  is 
use  less  to  insist  that  "live"  music  can 
never  be  replaced  by  the  canned,  re- 
produced sort— it  has  already  been  re- 
placed, in  many  ways,  though  living 
performance  (as  in  all  arts)  is  still  the 
foundation. 

II  film  stars  can  be  great  by  proxy 
image,  then  so  can  musicians.  The 
question  isn't  "live"  versus  canned— as 
Bernstein  knows— it  is  the  manner  of 
presentation  that  counts.  Given  an  ac- 
ceptable- presentation  (and  good  pro- 
graming), there  isn't  a  record  buyer  in 
the  country   who  wouldn't   prefer   "per- 


WORTH   LOOKING    INTO    .    .    . 


Saint-Saens:  Danse  Macabre;  Phaeton: 
Le  Rouet  d'Omphale;  La  Jeunesse 
d'Hercule.  N.  Y.  Philharmonic,  Mitro- 
poulos.    Columbia  ML  5154. 

Wagner:  Die  Walkuere;  Act  III  (com- 
plete): Act  II  "Siegmund!  Sieh'  auf 
micli!"     Flagstad,    Edelmann,   Svanholm 

e/  <il..  Vienna  Philharmonic,  Solti.  Lon- 
don A  4225    (2). 

Gesualdo:  Madrigals  and  Sacred  Music. 

Conducted  by  Robert  Craft.  Columbia 
ML  5234. 

Beethoven:     Symphony     #5.     Schubert: 


"Unfinished"  Symphony.  Vienna  State 
Opera  Orch.,  Prohaska.  Vanguard  SRV 
106. 

Stokowski— Landmarks  of  a  Distin- 
guished Career  (Bach,  Debussy,  J. 
Strauss.  Sibelius).  Stokowski  R:  His  Sym- 
phony Orch.    Capitol  P-8399. 

Grieg:  Lyric  Pieces,  Books  5  &  6. 
Manahem  Pressler,  piano.  M-G-M  E3198. 

Bruckner:  Symphony  #4  ("Romantic"); 
Symphony  #7  (Original  versions).  Ba- 
varian Radio  Symph.,  Berlin  Phil., 
Eugen  Jochum.  Decca  DXE  146    (3). 


Sammartini:  S\  mpliom  in  A;  Svmph 
for  2  Morns  ,v-  Sitings  in  A:  Svmph 
for  2  Trumpets  &  Strings  in  G; 
fonia  dell'Accademia  in  C.  Orch. 
cademia  dell'Orso,  Newell  Jcnl 
Period   SPL   731. 

Sammartini  belongs  to  that  interes 
(and  mini  now  little  known)  in-bctw 
generation  ol  composers  who  w 
music  midway  between  the  two  lam 
si\le  s  thai  we  loosely  call  "Bach-Har 
and  "Mozart-Haydn."  It's  a  kind 
music  that  is  gaining  favoi  with  us  r 
as  our  interest  in  the  background] 
the    titans    grows. 


Sammartini  was  only  sixteen 
younger  than  Bach  and  Handel 
he  died  when  Mo/art  was  ninel 
You'll  find  that  his  music  combine! 
solid  qualit)  ol  the-  familiar  Bach 
Handel  music  (also  Vivaldi  and 
like)  with  the  turns  and  graces  ol 
od\  thai  belong— for  US— to  Mo/alt 
Haydn.  Actually,  this  man  was 
ol  the  pioneers  in  that  rapid  chj 
o!  musical  style;  he's  now  credited 
a  large  influence  on  the  formatioi 
symphony  and  sonata  and  the  vijrti 
orchestra  that  were  the  beginninj 
the  modern   period. 

On  first  hearing,  this  music  is  li 
to  seem  superficial.  Most  listeners. 
entated  toward  the  Germanic  schoo 
impressiveness,  find  it  too  flossy 
lacking  in  "emotion."  But  this,  ye 
discover,  is  a  temporary  phase,  a 
of  mistaken  identity:  the  music 
Italian,  alter  all.  and  its  aims  arc 
own.  not  those  of  another  way  of  tfi 
ing.  In  its  own  terms— which 
through,  given  half  a  chance— it  is  m 
of  refined  expressiveness  and  exquj 
shape,  clearly  progressive  and  orig 
within   the  hair-sharp   Italian   style. 

Newell  Jenkins  has  specialized  in 
type  of  music  in  Italy  for  a  numbe 
years  and  is  a  first-rate  interpret! 
Sammartini.  The  plavings  are  nati 
modest,  unassuming,  and  yet  autl 
tative.  (See  also  a  companion  disc 
Boccherini  and  Cambini— a  "new"  ( 
Concerto   by   the    former.) 

The  Art  of  Galli-Curci.    Camden  ( 
410. 


It's    worth    keeping    an    eye    on    R( 
$1.98   Camden    reissues.    The   comr. 
delves    through    its    back   catalogues 
material    both    good    and    bad— but 
best  is  priceless,  and   the  technique 


Hear  the  symbol  keep  its  promise 


You'll  see  the  above  "FDS"  symbol  on  the  label 
of  certain  Capitol  records.  It  will  also  appear  on 
the  upper  right  hand  corner  of  the  album  cover. 

It  reads  "Full  Dimensional  Sound"  and  it's  a 
promise.  Probably  the  biggest  promise  in  the  small- 
est space  in  all  music.  Because  it  tells  you — 

1.  An  artist  of  the  first  rank  has  given  an  excep- 
tional performance. 


2.  That  this  performance  has  been  flawlessly  re- 
corded by  Capitol's  creative  staff  and  sound  engineers. 

3.  And  that  both  have  been  judged  by  the  record 
rating  "Jury"  as  being  worthy  of  the  "Fxdl  Dimen- 
sional Sound"  symbol — denoting  the  highest  fidelity 
known  to  the  recorder's  art. 

You'll  enjoy  hearing  how  well  the  symbol  keeps 
its  promise — at  your  favorite  record  shop. 


free — to  hi-fi  enthusiasts!  An  informative,  handsomely  designed  chart,  in  full 
color,  that  shows  you  the  frequency  range  {and  overtones)  of  every  major  instrument  in 
the  orchestra.  Simply  write  Capitol  Records,  P.O.  Box  J  -2391,  Hollywood  28,  Cali- 
fornia. {Offer  expires  June  1,  1958) 


102 


press 

comment 

"Atlantic  (John  M.  Conly) 

"The  AR-1W  woofer  gives  the  cleanest 
bass  response  I  ever  have  heard." 


(Eduard  Tatnall  Canby) 


AUDIO 

". . .  the  highs  impressed  me  immediately 
as  very  lovely,  smooth,  unprepossessing,  mu- 
sical (for  music)  and  unusually  natural.  No 
super-hi-fi  screech  and  scratch  ...  As  to  the 
lows ...  I  was  no  end  impressed,  from  the 
first  time  I  ran  my  finger  over  a  pickup  stylus 
and  got  that  hearty,  wall-shaking  thump  that 
betokens  real  bottom  bass  to  the  time  when 
I  had  played  records  and  tapes  on  the  speaker 
for  some  months  on  end." 

Zhe  Audio  Ceague  Report  * 

"Speaker  systems  that  will  develop  much 
less  than  30</r  distortion  at  30  cycles  are 
few  and  far  between.  Our  standard  reference 
speaker  system, t  the  best  we've  ever  seen, 
has  about  5%  distortion  at  30  cycles." 

*Vol.  I  No.  9,  Oct.,  '55.  Authorized  quotation  #30. 
For  the  complete  technical  and  subjective  report  on 
the  AR-1  consult  Vol.  I  No.  11,  The  Audio  League 
Report,  Pleasantville,  N.  Y, 

jTheAR-l\V 

The Saturday Review      (r.  s.  Lanier) 

".'. .  goes  down  into  the  low,  low  bass  with 
exemplary  smoothness  and  low  distortion.  It 
is  startling  to  hear  the  fundamentals  of  low 
organ  notes  come  out,  pure  and  undefiled, 
from  a  box  that  is  two  feet  long  and  about 
a  foot  high." 

High  Jidflily       (RoyAiHson) 

"...  a  woofer  that  works  exceptionally 
well  because  of  its  small  size,  not  in  spite 
of  it  ...  I  have  heard  clean  extended  bass 
like  this  only  from  enclosures  that  were  at 
.least  six  or  seven  times  its  size." 


THE     NEW     RECORDINGS 


Prices  for  Acoustic  Research  speaker  systems, 
complete  with  cabinets,  (AR-1  and  AR-2) 
are  $89.00  to  S  194.00.  Literature  is  avail- 
able from  your  local  sound  equipment  dealer, 
or  on  request  from:  Depl  H 

ACOUSTIC     RESEARCH,     INC. 

24  Thorndike  St.,    Cambridge  41,  Mass. 


restoration  applied  to  old  discs  arc 
bettei    .md   better. 

rhese  Galli-Curci   items  are  wondei 
fully  dear  and  easy  on  the  ears.   There 
an  in    am    scintillating    highs,    but    the 
voice     itsell      is     almost     entirely      undis 
torted,  within  iln    tonal  range  thai  was 
possible.    Even  the  old   tootling  accom- 
paniment   sounds  convincing.     Most    ol 
the  material   dates   Erom    1917   to    1920,  . 
Inn    two    items,    significantly,    are    ele< 
ii  it al  recordings,  made  in  1928,  in  which 
the   voice   is   Fuller   and    brighter.    Sui 
Face    noise— thanks    no    doubt    to    use    ol 
the  original   masters— is  no  problem. 

Ii  is  interesting  to  note  bow  dras- 
tically singing  style  lias  changed.  Stand- 
ards are  Fat  lower  now  in  respect  to 
musi(al  accuracy  (Galli-Curd's  pitch  is 
a  delight);  Few  singers  can  race  through 

the    last    noles   today   With    the   ease    that 

was  common    in   the   Golden   Age,   nor 

is   there   much    left   of   the   relaxed.    Iiesh 

evenness  ol   vocal   production,   uniform 

from  top  to  bottom,  that  is  so  superbly 
illustrated  by  Galli-Curci.  But  it  is  more 
than  this  loss  which  counts  today.  Our 
present  norm  ol  vocal  sound  wouldn't 
even  allow  het  style  of  singing— even,  I 
suggest,  on  the  opera  stage  itself.  Most 
listeners  (other  than  those  knowing 
their  opera  history)  would  simply  call 
it  thin  and  childish.  I  can't  imagine 
Galli-Curci  on  the  Telephone  Hour. 

It  w  thin,  this  voice,  if  you  compare 
it  with  today's  heavy,  wobble-ridden 
sounds  (that's  my  feeling,  anyhow),  and 
the  musical  sense  it  conveys  is  out  of 
another  and  more  naive  age  in  musical 
America.  (The  "Home  Sweet  Home" 
heard  on  this  record  brought  a  famous 
thirty-two  minutes  of  applause  at  the 
Met  and  was  even  interpolated  in  the 
middle  of  an  Italian  opera.)  We  are 
immensely  more  sophisticated  today, 
but  in  some  ways  our  musical  standards 
are  lower. 

Chopin:  Mazurkas  (complete).  Nikita 
Magaloff,    pf.     London    LLA-53    (3). 

The  art  ol  playing  Chopin  has  suffered 
in  recent  times  (perhaps  because  ol  the 
combined  influence  of  the  harpsichord 
and  the  jazz  piano)  but.  unlike  the 
music  of  optia's  Golden  Age,  Chopin 
remains  the  most  sophisticated  and 
subtle  exponent  ol  the  early  Romantic 
period;  it  still  takes  a  master  pianist's 
best  technique  and  musicianship  to 
play  him  well. 

Magaloff  is  for  my  ear  one  ol  the 
most  satisfying  Chopin  pianists  alive, 
if  not  the  most  spectacular.  Here  are 
fifty-one  Mazurkas,  all  in  three-loin 
time,  and  there  isn't  a  moment  ol 
monotony  on  four  LP  sides.  To  be 
sure,  the  credit  is  Chopin's  as  well- 
but  lew  players  can  read  into  the 
printed  rigidity  ol  the  notes  themselves 


such    a   constant    and   subtle   variety 
nuance. 

Ibis  Chopin  is  gentle  .md  warm,  wit 
a  rhythmic  plasticity  so  beautiful! 
phrased  that  there  is  no  sense  ol  rubat 
even  though  the  metronome  could  I 
keep  lime  to  a  measure.  The  cli.na 
teristic  Chopin  harmonies  are  perfecfl 
sensed,  projected  quietly,  with  econoia 
the  melodies  are  phrased  in  long  shape 
the  innei  strands  of  melodic  line  a 
balanced,  deftly  tailored  into  the  who 
with  nevei  a  loose  end.  The  pedal 
used  a  good  deal  (contrary  to  mc 
modern  practice)  but  there  is  not  a  tra 
ol   harmonic    blurring. 

Above  all,  Magaloff  never  band 
though  he  plays  as  loudly  as  anyor 
What  is  banging?  It  is  simply  lo 
playing  without  phrasing  or  shape.  M 
the  musical  whole,  tailor  the'  length  a 
duration  ol  every  tone  to  fit.  a 
no  degree  ol  sheer  Finger-pressure 
sound   noisy   and   hard. 

The  recording  is  full-bodied.  1 
slightly  marred  l>\  tape  flutter,  noti 
abb  in  the  louder  and  more  singj 
piano  notes. 

Schubert:  Symphony  #7  in  C.   Clevelal 
Orch.,   Szell.   Epic  LC   3431. 

This    is   an    exciting    "Great    C    Maj 
that    never    Hags,    is   often    original   £ 
unexpected    within    a    very    proper 
preciation  of  the  musical  tradition  t 
goes  with  the  work.    It  is  quite  unl 
the    classic    version    by    Bruno    Waltj 
more  driving,  with   less  subtlety  in 
phrasing    throughout— but    it    has' 
ments  that  tie  it  to  the  Walter  read 
rather    than    to    such    utterly    clifler 
conceptions   as   the   highly   Italian   T 
canini    recording. 

Perhaps  Mr.  Szell's  Central  Eurod 
background  has  something  to  do  \ 
this.  Is  it  my  imagination  that  g 
his  playing  a  peculiarly  Czech  I" 
—an  exhilarating.  Uric  dance  qc 
polka-like  on  the  strong  beat  r 
than  softly  phrased  as  in  Walter? 
an\  case,  there  is  a  good  deal  ol  gen 
American  brashness  and  bounce  1 
( learly  far  and  away  from  the  ueil 
reverent  Viennese  approach. 

The  Szell  conception  isn't  enti 
polished  up  yet  as  far  as  the  music 
are  concerned.  They  are  enthusi 
and  warm,  but  the  musical  edges 
need  sharpening.  The  recording  i 
is  a  technical  feat-a  new  and  mo< 
hi-fi  sound,  reasonably  close-up, 
emphasis  on  heavy  brass,  an  adeq 
over-all  liveness  to  mellow  the  w 
and— best  of  all— no  breaks  in  the  1 
movements.  The  Epic-Columbia  i 
neers  have  got  the  four  sections  e\ 
on  two  sides  without  a  trace  of 
lamiliar  inner-groove  distortion 
usually  expect  in  such  long  record 


NEW... Classics  in  a  Springtime  mood 


A  World  of  Music,  Carmen  Dragon,  considered  "the  fore- 
ost  conductor  in  the  light  classic  field,"  selects  concert 
vorites  from  many  lands — from  the  works  of  Tchaikovsky, 
zet,  Smetana  and  Brahms.  It's  music  of  many  moods 
d  colorations ...  all  arranged  by  Mr.  Dragon.  PAO  8412 


STEINBERG 

»«"wi.,iHEp„llHWBONM0|(iHi,}tt 


hichard  strauss  never  wrote  a  more  nearly  perfect  work  of 
art  than  Der  Rosenkavalier — fifth  and  finest  of  his  great  lyric 
operas.  William  Steinberg  and  the  Philharmonia  perform 
superb  music  from  this  opera  along  with  Don  Juan,  one  of 
Strauss'  most  popular,  most  romantic  tone  poems.      PAO  8423 


E  Viennese  waltz  is  today  a  monument  to  the  genius  of 
laann  Strauss.  The  magic  of  his  melodies  still  bewitches  the 
nantically  inclined — especially  as  performed  in  this  brilliant 
ull  Dimensional  Sound"  album  by  the  famed  Hollywood 
wl  Symphony  under  the  baton  of  Felix  Slatkin.      PAO  8421 


it's  been  said  that  "the  world's  most  heavenly  music  is 
played  upon  the  harp."  You'll  be  hard  put  to  dispute  the 
point  when  you  hear  the  greatest  harpist  of  our  time,  Marcel 
Grandjany,  play  Prokofiev,  Hindemith,  Haydn  and  his  own 
compositions  in  this  rare  and  beautiful  album.  PAO  8420 


free — to  hi-fi  enthusiasts!  An  informative,  handsomely  designed  chart,  in  full 
color,  that  shows  you  the  frequency  range  (and  overtones)  of  every  major  instrument  in 
the  orchestra.  Simply  write  Capitol  Records,  P.O.  Box  K-2391,  Hollywood  28,  California. 
(Offer  expires  June  1,  1968) 


IFKIH   IFH^IDniRa®  ^u^KffllP 


It  helps 
curb  inflation 
by  holding 
food  prices  down 


1  TclCling   StclIlipS    are  simply  one  of  many  competitive  tools.  Lill 
anything  else  which  exerts  competitive  pressure,  trading  stamps  act  to  hoi 
prices  down  and  thus  help  curb  inflation. 


In  a  study  of  the  effects  of  trading  stamps  on 
food  prices  in  supermarkets  conducted  by  mar- 
keting experts  of  a  large  state  university,  they 
found  no  evidence  that  stamp  stores  as  a  group 
charge  higher  prices  than  non-stamp  stores.  On 
the  contrary,  they  found  that  stamps  work  to 
hold  prices  down  in  two  ways: 

1.  Stamps  have  an  active,  competitive  effect 
on  non-stamp  stores.  This  may  result  in  the 
non-stamp  merchant  cutting  some  prices  and 
offering  giveaways  or  other  inducements  to  gain 
customers. 

2.  Stamp  stores,  on  the  other  hand,  must 


also  keep  their  prices  competitive  if  they  are 
gain  the  increased  business  volume  that  stan 
can  provide. 

The  outcome  is  that  whether  a  supermai 
gives  stamps  or  doesn't  give  stamps,  the  stair 
help  hold  prices  down  in  either  case.  In  tin 
inflationary  times,  our  economy  needs  ev< 
competitive  tool,  like  the  trading  stamp,  tl 
it  can  get,  because  competition  is  the  great 
single  anti-inflationary  force  at  work. 
•       •       • 

REFERENCE:  "Trading  Stamp  Practice  and  Pricing 
icy."  Dr.  Albert  Haring  and  Dr.  Wallace  0.  Yoder,  Marl 
ing  Department,  School  of  Business,  Indiana  Univera 


This  message  is  one  of  a  series  presented  for  your  information  by 

THE  SPERRY  AND  HUTCHINSON  COMPANY.  114  Fifth  Avenue.  New  York  11.  New  York. 

S&H  pioneered  61  years  ago  in  the  movement  to  give  trading  stamps  to  consumers  as  a  discount  for  paying  cash. 

S&H  GREEN  STAMPS  are  currently  being  saved  by  millions  of  consumers. 


HE  JOHNNIE  WALKER  COLLECTION 


hampion 


?5 


by  PETER  HELCK 


it  at  the  Whrrl 


Peter  Helck  lias  put  a  lot  of  nostalgia  into  this  painting. 
There's  the  model  of  his  beloved  "Old  10."  Peter  owns  the 
actual  car — the  huge  Locomobile  racer  that  won  the  1908 
Vanderbilt  Cup.  That's  a  replica  of  the  Cup  next  to  the 
car.  Highball  glasses  hail  from  Indianapolis  Speedway. 

The  classic  that  completes  the  picture  is,  of  course, 
Johnnie  Walker  Black  Label  .  .  .  champion  among  champi- 
ons. No  other  Scotch  whisky  in  the  world  could  be  more 
at  home  among  symbols  of  a  great  tradition. 


iHtml 


__ 


Johnnie  Walker 

Bom  1820 

still  going  strong 


<tf  •  J> 


fcRPEP 


Bottles  have  changed . . . 

6u£  never  the  quality  of 


it's  always 
a  pleasure 


i.w.  HARPER 

PRIZED   KENTUCKY   BOURBON 

TOO  PROOF  BOTTLED  IN   BOND  OR  MILD  86  PROOF 


From  left  to  right:  "DANDY"  Pinch  Bottle,  1900;  "AMBER"  Colorful  Glass,  1880;  "CANTEEN 
G.  A.  R."  Reunion  Souvenir,  1895;  "PEWTER  PITCHER"  Gift  Decanter,  1900;  "COMPANION" 
Long-Necked  Decanter,  1910;  "BAR  BOTTLE"  Ornate  Cut  Glass,  1910;  "DWARF"  Round  Etched 
Decanter.  1885;  "GOLD  MEDAL"  Embossed  Decanter,  1949;  "HARPER'S  OWN"  Ceramic  Jug,  1890; 
"LITTLE  COMPANION"  Cut  Glass,  1910;  "NAUTICAL"  Shippers  Tribute,  1890;  "THE  AMERICAN" 
Hand-Blown  Flask,  1875;  "CARBOY"  Wicker-Covered.  1880;  "CAMEO"  Cut  Glass  Miniature.  1899. 

DISTILLED  AND  BOTTLED  BY  I.W.  HARPER  DISTILLING  CO.,  LOUISVILLE,  KY. 


MAY  1958    ►    SIXTY  CENTS 


arper's 


How 
( LLOYD  WRIGHT 


Alfred  Bendiner 


magazine 


A  Nobel  Scientist's 

Case  for  the  Classics 

Werner  Heisenberg 

Why  Canadians  Are 
Turning  Anti-American 

Bruce  Hutchison 

The  Guns  at  Falaise  Gap 

Richard  6.  McAdoo 

Lament  for  Minnesota 

Leona  Train  Rienow 

Tom  Wolfe  Writes  a  Play 

Fliiiip  W  Barber 

Common  Sense 
about  Alimony 

Judge  Samuel  If.  Hofstadter 
and  Arthur  Herzog 


■»  «*  «•  IT       OF      *  r  ?-, 

OLD     C 


^^  ■/«ew^tS>/ 


The  Fashionable  Sootch 


Scotsmen,  who  are  supercritical 
about  their  traditional  think, 
describe  Old  Smuggler  as  a  "fash- 
ionable Scotch."  Because  it  is  de- 
veloped with  patience  and  scruple — 
because  it  carries  on  quality  tradi- 
tions thai  date  back  to  1835 — and 
because  it  is  distinguished  by  greal 
softness  and  delicacy  of  flavour. 

More  and  more  Americans  agree 
with    this   verdict.    Which   is   why, 


when  Old  Smuggler  is  poured,  men 
frequently  say,  "Careful,  don't  waste 
a  drop — that's  Old  Smuggler." 

A  Scotch  of  the  choice  character 
of  Old  Smuggler  deserves  to  be  seen 
in  its  true  color;  therefore,  the  bottle 
is  made  of  clearest  glass. 

If  von  have  not  yet  enjoyed  the 
superb  delight  oi  Old  Smuggler,  why 
not  ask  for  it  by  name  the  next  time? 
You  will  be  richly  rewarded. 


Distilled,  Blended  and  Bottled  in  S 
[mpoi  ted  by 

W.  A.  TAYLOR   &  COMPANY,  N.  N 
Sole  Distributors  for  the  U.  S. 
BLENDED   SCOTCH   WHISKY 


OLD 


muMMi 


SCOTCH  with  a  H\to 


The  Three-way  Benefits  of 
Good  Telephone   Earnings 


EMPLOYEES  INVESTORS 


They  benefit  the  telephone  customer  by 
providing  the  means  to  expand  and  improve 
the  service  and  do  it  economically. 

They  benefit  employees  because  they  help 
to  provide  good  jobs. 

They  benefit  the  investor  by  protecting 
his  savings  and  insuring  a  good  and  secure 
return  on  his  investment. 

There  is,  indeed,  no  basis  for  the  belief 
that  keeping  telephone  earnings  low  is  a  sure 
road  to  keeping  rates  low. 

Such  a  philosophy,  by  limiting  progress 
and  long-pull  economies,  will  lead  almost 
always  to  the  opposite  result .  .  .  poorer  serv- 
ice at  a  higher  price  than  the  customer  would 
otherwise  have  to  pay. 

In  all  lines  of  business,  it's  the  companies 
whose  earnings  are  good  that  are  able  to 
make  the  best  products,  provide  the  best 
service,  and  give  the  best  values. 


BELL  TELEPHONE    SYSTEM 


1(    LKPE  K     S     IIRIITHKKS 
PI    BLISHERS 

Chairman  of  the  Executive 
Committee:  cass  canfield 

Chairman  of  the  Board: 

FRANK   S.    M  \(  GREGOR 

President  and  Treasurer: 

RAYMOND  C.   HARWOOD 

Vice-Presidents: 

EDWARD   f.   n  LER,  JR., 

EUGENE  I  XMAN,  ORDWAY  TEAD, 

DANIEL  I.   BRADLEY 

Assistant  to  the  Publisher 
and  Circulation  Director: 

JOHN    I \Y   HUGHES 
EDIT  0  It  I  A  I.     STAFF 

Editor  in  Chief:  John  rise  hi  k 
Managing  Editoi :  rissi  lllynes 

Editors: 

KATIll  RIM     (.  \l  SS     |  \(  ksnN 

ERIC  LARRABEE 

<   \  HHARINE    MEYER 

ANNI    (..  I  Kl  I  DGOOD 

ROBERT   B.   SILVERS 

LUCY    DONA]  DSON 

I  Vashington    Correspondent: 

WILLI  \M    S.    WHITE 

Editorial  Secretary:  rose  daly 
Editorial  .  tssistant: 

VIRGINIA    HUGHES 


1DVERTISING   11  V  I  \  :    Consult 

Harper-Atlantic  Sales,  Inc. 

19  East  33rd  Street.  New  York  16.  N.  Y. 

Telephone  MUrray  Hill  3-5225. 

II  Mill  Fi's    M  ICAZINE   i"Ue  for 

May  1958.    Vol.  216.    Serial  No.  1296. 

Copyright^  1958  by  Harper  &  Brothers 

fn  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain. 

All  rights,  including  translation  into 

other  languages,  reserved  by  the 

Publisher    in   the   United    States,   Great 

Britain,  Mexico  and  all  countries 

participating  in  the  International 

Copyright  Convention  and  the 

Pan-American   Copyright  Convention. 

Published   monthly   by   Harper  & 

Brothers.  19  East  33rd  St..  New  York  16, 

N.Y.  Composed  and  printed  in  the  U.S.A. 

by  union   labor  by  the  Williams  Press, 

99-129  North  Broadway,  Albany,  N.  Y. 

Entered   as  second-class   matter  at 

the  post  office  at  Albany.  N.  Y., 

under  the  Act  of  March  3.  1879. 

SI  BSI  MPTION  RATES:  60$  per  copy; 
$6.00  one  year;  $11.00  two  years; 
$15.00  three  years.    Foreign  postage — 
except  Canada  and  Pan  America- 
Si. 50  per  year  additional. 

chance  oi    iddress:   Six  weeks' 

advance  notice,  and  old  address  as 

well  as  new,  are  necessary. 

Address  all  correspondence  relating 

to  subscriptions  to:  Subscription  Dept.. 

49  East  33rd  St..  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 


Harper 

magaJIz  I  N  E  ® 


MAY    1958 


vol.  216,  no.   1296 


ARTICLES 

25     A  Scientist's  Case  for  the  Classics,  Werner  Heisenberg 

30     How   Frank  Lloyd  Wright  Got  His  Medal, 
Allied  Bendiner 
Drawings  by  the  Author 

36     The  Guns  at  Falaise  Gap,  Richard  B.  McAdoo 
Drawings  by  Hurt  Goldblati 

46    Why  Canadians  Are  Turning  Anti-American, 
Bruce  Hutchison 

51      Hill   Climbing    by    Boat,    Joyce    Warren 
Drawings  by  Barrie  McDowell 

57  I.amim   for  Minnesota:  One  Hundred  Years  of  Pillage, 
Leona    Train   Rienow 

68     Common  Sensi    About  Alimony 

Judge  Samuel  H.   Hofstadter  and  Arthur   Her/og 

71     Tom  Wolfe  Writes  a  Play,  Philip  W.  Barber 

Cartoon   by  Perry  Barlow 

FICTION 

60     The  Guy  in  Ward  4,  Leo  Rosten 
Drawings  by  Bernarda  Bryson 

VERSE 

50     The  Academic  Overture,  Richmond  Lattimore 

58  Exchange,  Miriam  Waddington 

departments 

4     Letters 

14     The  Editor's  Easy  Chair— How  to  Keep  Congress  Honest 
John  Fischer 
Drawing  by  X.  M.  Bodecker 

21      Personal  &  Otherwise:  Among  Our  Contributors 

77     After  Hours,   Mr.   Harper  and  John  Updike 
Drawings  by  N.  M.  Bodecker 

80  The  New  Books,  Paul  Pickrel 

91  Books  in  Brief,  Katherine  Gauss  Jackson 

95  The  New  Recordings,  Edward  Tatnall  Canby 

96  Jazz  Notes,  Eric  Larrabee 

COVER  DRAWING  by  Alfred  Bendiner 


The  books  you  want  to  read  are  —  usually  — 
BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  club  selections  or  alternates 


FOR  EXAMPLE:  HERE  ARE  8  OF  130  BOOKS  AVAILABLE  TO  MEMBERS  THIS  MONTH 


INSIDE  RUSSIA  TODAY 

by  John  Gunther 

The  latest  Inside  book  by  one 
of  our  most  knowledgeable 
journalists.  "American  read- 
ers should  approach  this  book 
.  .  .  almost  as  if  it  were  re- 
quired reading  and  we  were  all 
school  children.  For  the  basic 
brutal  fact  is  that  we  must 
learn  what  Russia  is  like." 
Special  price  to  members-.  $4.50 

BY  LOVE  POSSESSED 

by  James  Gould  Cozzens 

"The  maturest  and  most  read- 
able piece  of  American  fiction 
we  have  been  privileged  to 
offer  our  members  for  many 
years"— Clifton  Fadiman. 
Special  price  to  members :  $3.95 

THE   WINTHROP 
WOMAN 

by  Anya  Seton 
"A  superb  piece  of  historical 
portraiture,"  this  is  a  novel 
about  Governor  John  Win- 
throp's  rebellious  niece  Eliza- 
beth, who  lived  at  odds  with 
her  heritage  in  the  bigoted 
and  savage  world  of  17th- 
century  New  England. 
Special  price  to  members  -.  $4.30 


ANATOMY  OF  A 
MURDER 

by  Robert  Traver 
A  "wickedly  quizzical"  and 
unvarnished  story  of  a  murder 
and  a  murder  trial.  It  is  a  re- 
vealing melodrama  of  the  law 
"raised  to  the  level  of  adult 
narrative." 
Special  price  to  members :  $3.95 

THE  NEW  CLASS 

by  Milovan  Djilas 
Probably  the  most  devastating 
anti  -  Communist  document 
ever  written.  "A  book  of  vast 
significances,  one  that  could 
shake  the  Communist  world" 
-7J.  y.  Tlerald  Tribune. 

Price:  $3.95 

THE    FBI    STORY 

by  Don  Whitehead 

"A  completely  thrilling  ac- 
count of  how  the  FBI  oper- 
ates, in  war  and  peace,"  long 
a  best-seller.         Price-.   $4.95 


Bin  with  any  one  of  the  above  books 


AND  YOU  WILL  RECEIVE  FREE 


)NE  OF  THESE  SETS 
L  REFERENCE  WORKS 

I  if  you  agree  to  buy  Ave  additional  books 
from  the  Club  during  the  next  year  from 
approximately  200  that  will  be  available 

C  D  SENSE:  A  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  .  There  are  at  least 
rtioenefits  of  membership  in  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club  that  are 
J  d  question.  First,  you  get  the  books  you  want  to  read  instead 
n  ;ing  them  through  overbusyness  or  procrastination— books  such 
>se  described  above.  Second,  you  pay  an  average  of  20%  less 
'im  than  otherwise.  Third,  you  share  in  more  than  $13,000,000 
»  of  free  books  (retail  value)  now  distributed  annually  as  Book- 
Bmds.  This  offer  really  represents  "advanced"  ^Book-Dividends 
n  I  by  the  purchase  of  the  books  you  engage  to  buy  later. 

:  books  you  agree  to  buy  later  can  be  chosen  from  approximately 

>  Jb  Selections  and  Alternates  made  available  every  month. 

I  h  month  you  receive  a  full  and  careful  report  about  the  next  Book- 
'i  Month.  If  you  judge  it  is  a  book  you  would  not  enjoy,  you  may 
"  ack  a  form  (always  provided)  specifying  some  other  book.  Or  you 

>  mply  say,  "Send  me  nothing." 

'  -u  continue  after  this  trial,  you  will  receive  a  Book-Dividend, 
:i  ng  almost  $7  in  retail  value,   with   every  second  book  you  buy. 

nediate  acceptance  is  advisable  if  you  are  interested  in   any  par- 
it   set  or  volume. 


ALARMS   & 
DIVERSIONS 

by  James  Thurber 

Thirty-two  stories,  essays  and 
articles  and  nearly  200  draw- 
ings, many  of  which  have 
never  appeared  in  book  form. 
"Thurber  is  incomparable" — 
Christian  Science  "Monitor. 
Special  price  to  members:  .$3.95 


PLEASE  DON'T  EAT 
THE  DAISIES 

by  Jean  Kerr 

A  best-selling  book  "to  make 
the  whole  family  feel  good." 
Jean  Kerr  tells  hilariously  of 
her  life  with  one  husband  (a 
drama  critic),  four  small 
sons  and  a  thirty-two-bell  car- 
illon in  a  New  York  suburb. 
"Every  page  a  gem"-Bernar- 
dine  Kielty.  Price  $3.50 


THE  NEW  ILLUSTRATED  EDITION  OF  THE  COLUMBIA  ENCYCLOPEDIA 

Complied  at  Columbia  University    .    2302  pages  RETAIL  PRICE  $35.00 

THE  OXFORD  UNIVERSAL  DICTIONARY  retail  price  $25.00 

2515  pages    •    "The  best  English  dictionary  of  its  size"— N.  Y.  Herald  Tribune 
CHURCHILL'S  THE   SECOND   WORLD  WAR        Retail  Price  (if  bought  separately)  $39.00 
All  six   volumes  of  Sir  Winston's  epic  history 

SANDBURG'S  ABRAHAM   LINCOLN— THE  WAR  YEARS  retail  price  $36.00 

The  Pulitzer  Prize  winning  biography  in  four  volumes 
THE  WORLD  OF  MATHEMATICS  In  four  volumes,  boxed  RETAIL  PRICE   $25.00 

THE  OXFORD  REFERENCE  LIBRARY      Four  volumes      retail  prices  total  $27.25 


BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB,  Inc.,  345  Hudson  St.,  New  York  14,  N.  Y.         A35 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  member  of  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club*  and  send, 
free,  the  work  I  have  indicated  below  with  the  purchase  cf  my  first  selection, 
also  Indicated  below.  I  agree  to  purchase  at  least  five  additional  monthly 
Selections — or  Alternates — during  the  first  ydar  I  am  a  member.  Thereafter 
I  need  buy  only  four  such  books  in  any  twelve-month  period  to  maintain  mem- 
bership. I  have  the  right  to  cancel  my  membership  any  time  after  buying  six 
Club  choices.  After  my  sixth  purchase,  if  I  continue,  I  am  to  receive  a  Book- 
Dividend*  with  every  second  Selection — or  Alternate — I  buy.  (A  small  charge 
is  added  to  cover  postage  and  mailing  expenses.) 

PLEASE  NOTE:  A  Double  Selection— or  a  set  of  books  offered  to  mem- 
bers at  a  special  combined  price — Is  counted  as  a  single  book  in  reckon- 
ing   Book-Dividend     credit,     and     in     fulfilling    the     membership     obligation. 


(Choo 

ie  one  of  the  sets  or  reference 

vnrks  listed  above) 

(Choose  one  of  the   selections 

described  above) 

Mr.     ) 

Miss    ) 

(Please  Print  Plainly) 

City. 


.Zone State. 


'Trademark  Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Off.  and  in  Canada 


How  many  stocks 
should  you  own? 

That  depends. 

To  some  extent,  on  the  over-all 
value  of  your  portfolio  or  the 
amount  you'd  like  to  invest  .  .  . 
To  some  extent  on  the  risks  you 
can  afford,  the  rewards  you  seek  . . . 
To  some  extent  on  the  amount  of 
time  and  effort  you  can  devote  to 
your  investment  program. 

But  judging  by  our  experience  with 
thousands  of  different  investors  who 
have  brought  their  problems  to  us, 
there's  a  pretty  fair  chance  that  you 
already  own  more  stocks  than  you 
should. 

Not  that  we  don't  believe  you  should 
diversify  your  holdings — we  do.  But 
we'd  much  rather  see  you  own  100 
shares  of  10  different  stocks  than  10 
shares  of  100  different  stocks. 

An  extreme  example,  true.  But  you'd 
be  surprised  at  some  of  the  portfolios 
we  review.  Surprised  at  how  often  a 
few  basic  suggestions  on  consolidation 
can  actually  increase  your  income,  sim- 
plify the  job  of  keeping  tab  on  your 
stocks,  and  bring  you  a  lot  closer  to 
your  investment  objectives. 

If  you  have  the  feeling  you  may 
be  over-diversified  yourself,  we'll  be 
happy  to  have  our  Research  Depart- 
ment mail  you  a  completely  objective 
analysis  of  your  situation,  as  they  see  it. 

There's  no  charge  for  this  analysis, 
but  the  more  you  tell  us  about  your 
personal  circumstances  and  objectives, 
the  more  beneficial  it  should-be. 

In  any  event,  simply  address  a  con- 
fidential letter 


Allan  D.  Gulliver,  Department  SW-46 

Merrill  Lynch, 
Pierce,  Fenner  &  Smith 

Members  New  York  Stock  Exchange 

and  all  other  Principal  Exchanges 

70  Pine  Street,  New  York  5,  N.  Y. 

Offices  in  112  Cities 


LETTERS 


Freud  and  Jung 

To   i  in    I  in  iok>: 

I  Eound  Gerald  Sykes'  "  I  lie  Dialogue 
ol  Freud  and  fung"  [March]  highly  stim- 
ulating, bin  also,  from  the  point  ol  view 
ol  a  non-New  York  professional  ps\<  nolo 
gist,  possibl)  misleading.  .  .  . 

One  erroneous  impression  that  could 
be  obtained  from  the  article  is  that 
psychological  theory  is  coterminous  with 
psychoanalytic  theory.  .  .  .  Psychoana- 
lytic theory,  while  ii  represents  probably 
the  most  significant  development  in  the 
history  ol  psychology,  is  not  the  whole 
story.  .  .  . 

It  would  also  be  possible  to  gain  the 
impression  from  the  article  that  the 
relative  strengths  <>l  the  two  "schools" 
arc  about  equal.  This  is  not  true.  The 
Freudian  school  is  the  dominant  one  to- 
day with  the  [ungian  represented  by  far 
fewer  practitioners  located  in  a  smaller 
number  ol  places.  People  in  the  humani- 
ties, I  suspect,  tend  to  rind  Jung's  ideas 
attractive  and  useful  for  many  reasons 
.  .  .  and  tend  to  overrate  his  present 
significance   for  clinical   work.   .   .  . 

1  he  main  battlefield  today  is  not  be- 
tween "Freudians"  and  "Jungians"  but 
between  adherents  to  mole-  or  less  classi- 
cal psychoanalysis  and  followers  of  the 
"neo-Freudians."  Harry  Stack  Sullivan 
is  probably  the  strongest  influence  of 
this  group,  along  with  Horney  and 
Iroinm.  .  .  .  The  influence  of  Adler 
should  also  be  mentioned.  Mis  Individ- 
ual Psychology  is  probably  at  least  as 
strong  a  force  today  ...  as  is  the  much 
more  elaborately  developed  ideational 
structure  of  lung's  Analytical  Psy- 
chology. Julian  Wohl,  Ph.D. 
Detroit,  Mich. 

Let  there  be  no  compromise.  The 
qualities  ol  Freudianism  are  not  strained. 

As  Freud  might  have  put  it:  An  ounce 
ol  sex-tension  is  worth  a  pound  of 
symbol-lure.    Or: 

Said  Dr.  Freud  to  Dr.  Jung 
We  were  friends  before  you  went  wrong 
Now  your  ideas  are  fine    (when  diluted) 
But  first  they  were  mine    (unpolluted) 
While    your    symbols    are    as    weak    as 
my   sex    is    strong. 

Lewis  Neubauer 
Philadelphia,  Pa. 

[Mr.  Sykes  says]  "Freud  never  had  any 
sexual    experience   outside   of   marriage. 


.  .  .  This  .  .  .  suggests  that  the  rr 
whose  n  ime  ...  is  linked  with  hrc 
sexual  knowledge  had  little  ol  it  throu 
personal  experience." 

He  implies  that  the  broadness  (a 
what  he  means  by  broad  in  this  con* 
I  cannot  imagine)  ol  one's  sexual  kno 
edge  is  a  function  ol  the  number 
one's  sexual  partners.  Is  it  Victorian 
suggest  that  sexual  experience  in  | 
context  ol  one  personal  relationship  n 
be  more-  varied  than  the  same-  num. 
of  experiences  with  different  peot 
.  .  .  Since  Mr.  Sykes  presumably  was  j 
at  the  bedside-  of  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Fre 
let  us  not  take  his  word  lor  what  tl 
sexual   experience  was.   .  .   . 

Joy  Calm 
Hamilton,  N 

I  respectfully  suggest  that  .  . 
S\kes  is  wrong  when  he  states  there 
"no  truth"  in  the  accusation  that  J 
was  "anti-Semitic"  and  "pro-Nazi." 

Did  fung  not  say  in  the  Nazi  psych 
ric  magazine:  "The  definite  distinct! 
between  Germanic  and  Jewish  | 
chology  long  apparent  to  sensible  j 
sons  shall  no  longer  be  obscured"! 
again.  "Flic-  Aryan  unconscious  ha 
higher  potentiality  than  the  Jewi 
And,  "my  warning  voice  was  suspec 
ol  anti-Semitism  lor  decades.  This 
pic  ion  originated  with  Freud.  He- 
no  knowledge  ol  the  Germanic  so 
just  as  little  as  all  his  German  parr 
Has  the  amazing  phenomenon  e> 
tional  Socialism  at  which  the  wl 
world  looks  with  astounded  eyes  uu 
them   better?"  .  .  . 

Lawrence  William  Sti -ink 
Beverly  Hills.  C 

Montana  Thatail 

To  the  Editors: 

Thanks  to  an  Englishman,  Her' 
Howarth  ["Montana:  The  Fron 
Went  Thataway,"  March],  for  answe: 
a  question  that  has  plagued  my  mind 
years:  What  has  Missoula  got  that  o« 
towns  don't  have? 

1  am  president  of  a  club  knowi 
"Forest  Service  Wives  Who  Have  Ni 
Been  to  Missoula."  At  first  we  had  tl 
members  in  the  Washington  Office 
then  one  visited  Missoula,  so  now  tl 
are  only  two. 

No  one  ever  talks  about  anything  sj 
if  he  has  ever  lived  in  that  town  wla 
is  regional  headquarters  for  the  Vm 
Forest  Service  in  a  large  part  of  M 
West.  Mr.  Howarth  needn't  worry  all 
its   losing   people,   though,    because 


Our  research  staffs  at  home  and  abroad 

put  scientific  agriculture  to  work  in  Central  America, 

improving  farm  output,  helping  to  raise  living  standards. 

United  Fruit  Company 

General  Offices:  80  Federal  St.,  Boston   10,  Mass. 

LOMBIA    .     COSTA    -RICA    •    CUBA    •     DOMINICAN      REPUBLIC    •     ECUADOR    •     GUATEMALA    •     HONDURAS    •     NICARAGUA    •    PANAMA 


PORTS 

Jrvm  Portugal 


SHERRIES 

,/ro/n  Spain 


® 


-  SANDEMAN 

iANDEMAll        ESTABLISHED    IN   THE    YEAR    1790 

Imported  by  W.  A.  TAYLOR  &  COMPANY,  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y.  Sole  Distributors  for  the  U.  S.  A. 


r 


}oWB& 


AIR  fAM* 
TO  EUtOPt 


THAN  ANY  OTHER  SCHEDULED 
TRANSATLANTIC  AIRLINE 


YOU  SAVE 


UP   TO 


$127.00  less  than  Economy  and  Thrift  fares 


ASK    ANY    TRAVEL    AGENT 


n  /ri  n 

ICELANDIC)  AIRLINES 

15  West  47th  St.,  New  York  36 
PL  7-8585 

NEW  YORK  •  CHICAGO  ■  SAN  FRANCISCO 


'Effective  April  1,  subject  Gov't,  approval. 


LETTERS 

see   it   most   ol    the   U.  S.    Forest   Servil 
plans  to  retire  there. 

I    I    MM      (  )OCH8 

Port  Republic,  M 

\s  .i  resideni  i>l  Missoula  lor  thirl 
six  years  I  feel  qualified  and  obligatl 
to    criticize    Herbert    Howarth's    artic 

llr    is   correct    in    assuming    that  . 
we  tend  to  be  easy  going  and  honest.  M 
is  incorrect   in  assuming  from  this  tH 
our  modicum  of  drinking  and  gambli 
"never  culminate  in  violence  or  pub  | 
unpleasantness"  and  "that  you  can  fcj 
confident  in  every  transaction."  .  .  .  \ 
are    not    a    Utopia    nor    are   we    a    dc 
town.  .  .  . 

He    is    Kitted   .   .  .  that    the    doubj 
]). irking  law  is  not  enforced.    He  is  wl 
oil  base  in  saying  half  our  drivers  do  i    , 
have  licenses,  that  no  one  pays  parki 
fines    or    answers    summonses    to    cou 
I  he   ignoring  of  parking  fines  leads 
court    summonses    which    are    enfora 
Car   registration    dates   have   been    pc 
poned  as  much  as  two  weeks,  never  "< 
ward  month  by  month."  .  .  . 

I  believe  he  must  be  basing  his 
marks  about  Missoula  women  on  a  v<, 
small  and  unrepresentative  group. 
states  "only  a  few  wives  can  cook  (a1 
even  these  seldom  do)."  He  wronj 
assumes  that  in  general  "the  montl 
lood  budget  is  modest  and  is  the 
to  be  cut."  .  .  . 

He  says  that  Montanans  prefer  pi; 
wives;  that  "most  wives  in  the  city  k 
similar."  1  should  say  that  Mr.  Howai 
was  a  victim  ol  ;i  British  meteorology 
phenomenon:  the  noted  heavy  fog 
that  country  which  obscures  the  in 
vidual  is  still  in  his  head  despite 
stay  in  the  United  States. 

Herbert  L.  Anders 
Missoula.   Mr 

...  It  is  unrealistic  for  Howarth 
sit  in  the  shadow  ol  Sentinel  Mount 
and  pontificate  in  such  a  patronizi 
manner  upon  the  whole  of  Monta 
which  he  admits  he  has  not  seen.  . 

S.  Al 
Great  Falls,  M( 


And  Calif or  in 


To  the  Editors: 

I  finally  got  the  guy  who  is  cms 
all  the  traffic  "gems"  and  accidents 
Los  Angeles.  It  is  Henry  Hope  Reed 
who  in  the  March  "After  Hours" 
sinned  the  role  of  guide  and  tried 
"go  carefully  north  on  Adams." 

The  trouble  is  Adams  Boulevard  rij 
east-west.  Alexander  L; 

Rivera,  Ca'^ 

It  was  a  delightful  surprise  to  see  M 
Reed's    cut  liusi.ist  i<     remarks    upon    (1 


W£L&E>Q[REI 


Over  half  of  the  non-stamp 
supermarkets  have  lowered 
food  prices  because  of  the 
iding  stamps  competitive  pressure 


IlSUmerS  have  benefited  from  trading  stamps  in  both  stamp 
Inon-stamp  stores.  When  a  leading  research  organization  recently  made 
lional  survey  among  the  managers  of  541  supermarkets  that  do  not  give 
ftps,  they  found  that  more  than  half  of  them  (51.5%)  had  reduced  prices 
|mpete  with  stamps. 


same  time,  supermarkets  that  give 
3  have  remained  competitive  within  nor- 
ice  ranges.  With  increased  volume  paying 
!  cost  of  stamps  in  most  instances,  stamp 
have  been  able  to  maintain  prices,  or 
ower  them.  According  to  studies  by  mar- 
%  experts  connected  with  universities, 
s  no  evidence  that  stamp  stores,  as  a  class, 
!  higher  prices  than  non-stamp  stores. 
is,  the  trading  stamp   can  be   counted 

the  anti-inflationary  forces  operating  on 


food  prices.  At  a  time  like  the  present,  when 
there  is  upward  pressure  on  the  prices  of  every- 
thing, it  seems  we  need  more  and  more  com- 
petitive forces,  like  trading  stamps,  in  the 
marketplace. 


REFERENCES :  "Status  of  Trading  Stamps  in  Food  and 
Drug  Stores."  Selling  Research,  Inc.,  New  York,  1957. 

"Competition  and  Trading  Stamps  in  Retailing."  Dr. 
Eugene  R.  Beem.  School  of  Business  Administration,  Uni- 
versity of  California. 


1 


This  message  is  one  of  a  series  presented  for  your  information  by 

THE  SPERRY  AND  HUTCHINSON  COMPANY",  114  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  11,  New  York. 

S&H  pioneered  62  years  ago  in  the  movement  to  give  trading  stamps  to  consumers  as  a  discount  for  paying  cash. 

S&H  GREEN  STAMPS  are  currently  being  saved  by  millions  of  consumers. 


Ingenious  new  2-lb.,  11-oz.  voice- 
recorder  works  anywhere  without 
a  plug-in!  Name:  Dictet.  Maker: 
Dictaphone.  Power  source:  muscular 
little  mercury  batteries. 

How  do  you  work  it?  Simple.  You 
pick  up  the  mike  and  talk.  Micro- 
phone acts  as  speaker  for  instant 
playback.  A  novelty?  No  Sir!  The 
fully  transistorized  Dictet  is  a  full- 
fledged  recorder  powerful  enough  to 
pick  up  a  whisper — or  a  voice  ten 
feet  away. 

For  transcription,  there's  the 
Dictet  Typer.  Or,  with  simple  at- 
tachments, Dictet  itself  doubles  as 
transcriber. 

There's  a  coupon  close  at  hand  for 
those  who  are  enthusiastic.  You, 
perhaps?  Send  it  in  posthaste. 


BY 

DICTAPHON  Ea 

Dictaphone  Corporation,    Dept.  HA58 

420  Lexington  Avenue,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 

Please  send  full  color  booklet  on  new  Dictet. 
Name 


Company- 
Address 


LETTERS 

Civic  Center,  which  is  l>\  no  means 
properly  appreciated  by  most  San  Fran- 
ciscans. Il<  should  have  mentioned, 
however,  thai  the  architect  of  the  Opera 
House  was  Arthur  Brown,  |r.  to  whom 
the  design  of  the  City  Hall  should  also 
have  been  wholly  attributed,  though  the 
work  was  tarried  out  under  the  firm  of 
Bakewell  and  Brown.  .  .  . 

R.OI  1  IN    Jl  Nsl  N 

Sin  Francisco,  Calif. 

Among  your  Utters  in  the  March  issue 
was  one  by  George  R.  Wadleigh  re- 
ferring  to  Bruce  Bliven's  article  on  San 
Francisco  in  which  [Wadleigh]  men- 
tioned "control  of  the  waterfront  by  a 
union  dominated  by  Bridges"  and  went 
on  to  say  ih.it,  because  ol  this,  shipping 
has  been  largely  diverted  to  the  Puget 
Sound  region  and  to  Los  Angeles. 

Mr.  Wadleigh  repeats  what  may  be 
luard  any  da)  of  the  week  in  San  Fran- 
cisco.   It   is  a  weak  and  silly  alibi. 

I  he  Bridges  union  embraces  the  en 
tire  Pacific  Coast  and  the  Hawaiian 
Islands,  and  the  strike  of  1934  which  is 
supposed  to  have  dealt  this  deathblow 
to  San  Francisco  shipping  included  Seat- 
tle. San  Pedro,  and  Oakland,  and,  fur- 
iluimore.  the  agreement  which  was 
ultimately  signed  .  .  .  was  one  whose 
conditions,  if  onerous,  were  such  as  all 
the  West  Coast  ports  had  to  meet.  .  .  . 
Clarence  B.  Carlsen 
San  Francisco,  Calif. 

Lyndon  Johnson 

To  the  Editors: 

In  his  article  on  Lyndon  Johnson 
[March]  William  S.  White  is  rather  dis- 
paraging of  the  "liberals"  in  the  Senate. 
.  .  .  However  if  there  were  no  "liberals" 
would  Lyndon  Johnson  move  to  the 
right  in  order  to  be  in  the  center  again? 
\\  In  K  is  Johnson's  direction?  Does  not 
the  situation  of  a  directionless  President 
require  a  purposeful  majority  leader? 

Bruce  Martin 
Cambridge,  Mass. 

Some  of  the  lines  sketched  in  White's 
article  need  to  be  drawn  with  heavy 
strokes  if  Texas  people  are  to  recognize 
the  portrait.  .  .  . 

In  Texas  .  .  .  personalism  is  the 
curse  of  politics.  Johnson  did  not  depart 
from  the  personalist  tradition  when  he 
assumed  command  of  the  loyal  Demo- 
cratic Presidential  convention  campaign 
before  the  1956  convention.  .  .  .  His 
reluctant  allies  observed  what  was  ex- 
pected of  those  who  sought  to  ingratiate 
themselves  with  Johnson:  200  per  cent 
personal  fealty.  The  short-term  objective 
of  the  coalition  was  achieved:  the  Texas 
delegation  was  representative,  disci- 
plined,   and    committed    as    a    unit    to 


coming  ia 


Harper's 


magazine 


NEXT   MONT 


THE  GANG 

THAT  WENT  GOOD 

A  bunch  of  tough  New  Yoi 
youngsters  are  trying  a  brave  ai 
uncertain  experiment — which,  if 
works,  might  rescue  them  fro! 
crime  and  mayhem  which  have  bj 
come  the  "normal"  way  of  life 
their  slum. 

By  Dan   Wakefie 


THE  IOWAN'S  CURSE 

A  striking  new  short  story 
the  author  of  The  Circus  of 
Lao. 

By  Charles  G.  Finnm 


REFORM  IN  CHICAGO: 
Sloiv  But  Not  Hopeless 

Party  bosses  in  America  bo^ 
they  can  control  city-wide  el 
tions  and  they  usually  do.  But 
Chicago,  one  of  the  most  note 
ous  of  the  machine-ridden  citi 
a  determined  group  of  citiz 
has  been  finding  that  there  is 
way  to  beat  the  bosses. 

By  John  Kay  Ada 


AND   LATE! 

THE  CATSKILLS: 

Still  Having  Wonderful  Time 

An  affectionate  report  on 
York's  unique  and  strictly  Kosl 
playground  in  the  Catskill  Moj 
tains,  sometimes  known  as 
Borscht  Circuit — the  fabulj 
standards  it  has  already  set, 
the  new  goals  at  which  it  is  aimil 

By  David  Bo* 


An  innovation  in  beauty  and  functional  design.  The  Continental  is  the  only  high  fidelity  FM-AM  radio- 
phonograph  with  25-watt  dual-channel  amplifier,  15"  bass  and  treble  exponential  horn  speakers.  Precision 
changer  with  Diamond  Pick-up.  Select  from  a  variety  of  styles  and  fine  woods.  In  mahogany,  $389.50. 

3t  Magnavox  High  Fidelity  fill  your  home 

with  the  glow/  of  beautiful  music 


J  xample  of  Magnavox  value— The  Magnasonic  297 

*  phono  with  10-watt  amplifier,  four  speakers  in- 
Jng  15"  bass,  precision  changer,   Diamond  Pick-up. 

•  variety  of  finishes.  In  mahogany,  now  only  $179.50. 

t  i  Fidelity  in  TV,  too.  The  High  Fidelity  Theatre, 
3  q.  in.  Chromatic  TV,  superb  FM-AM  radio,  precision 
»  d  changer,  Diamond  Pick-up,  4  speakers,  20-watt 
D  ifier.  Magnavox  TV  priced  from  $169.90. 


Music  becomes  magic  when  Magnavox  sets  it  free.  All  of 
the  world's  great  symphonies,  ballads  and  popular  dance 
tunes  are  perfectly  re-created  with  tonal  beauty  and  purity 
that  will  amaze  and  delight  you. 

Magnificent  Magnavox  high  fidelity  instruments  are  the 
finest  you  can  buy,  combining  superior  engineering  and 
features  not  found  in  brands  that  cost  twice  as  much.  And 
only  Magnavox  fine  furniture  offers  you  so  many  innova- 
tions in  beauty  and  functional  design. 

Prove  to  yourself  that  Magnavox  is  the  finest .  .  .  and 
the  best  buy  on  any  basis  of  comparison.  It  costs  you  less 
than  you  may  think.  Magnavox  is  sold  direct  only  to  fine 
stores  in  your  community;  carefully  selected  for  their  integ- 
rity and  ability  to  serve  you  better.  Select  from  44  beautiful 
styles,  in  all  price  ranges,  at  your  Magnavox  dealer's. 


mag  nificent 


high  fidelity  television  •  radio-phonographs 
Precision  electronics  for  industry  and  our  Government 

THE  MAGNAVOX  COMPANY,  FORT  WAYNE,  INDIANA 
Prices  and  specifications  subject  to  change  without  notice 


10 


The  Evidence  Is  Most  Conclusive 


BOOTH'S 

HOUSE  of  LOKDS 


The  delightful  softness  and  flavor  of  Booth's 
House  of  Lords  are  sufficient  to  convince  any- 
unprejudiced  man  it  is  the  world's  finest  dry 
gin— the  essential  ingredient  of  the  perfect  <zMetyPot6&  Jo/felt  DRY  GIN 
Martini.  Many  consider  it  almost  a  crime  to 
use  anything  else. 

Imported  by  W.A.  Taylor  &  Company,  NewYork,  ,\.  Y.  Sole  Distributors  for  the  U.S.A. 


OISTIUEO  FROM  100%  GRAIN 
NEUTRAL  SPIRITS   •   86  PROOF 


more  exciting  via  GREECE, 
land  of  myth  and  magic 

Golden  days  through  the  Mediterranean 

to  Greece  via  Portugal  and  Italy.  Or  to  the 

Channel  ports,  Cobh,  Havre,  Southampton, 

Bremerhaven  from  New  York,  Boston,  Canada. 


Your  Twin  Routes  for  more  Tourist  comfort. 
Go  One  Way  .  .  .  Return  the  Other 

See  Your  Travel  Agent 

I  GREEK  LINE 

NEW  YORK  •  BOSTON  .  CLEVELAND  .  CHICAGO  •  LOS  ANGELES  .  SAN  FRANCISCO  .  TORONTO  .  MONTREAL 


LETTERS 

Johnson's  Presidential  ambition.  •  •  . 

I  he  long-term  results  arc  more  dill, 
cull  to  assess.  One  was  what  can  (liar 
i.il)l\  be  (ailed  the  inept  managcmQ 
of  the  state  campaign  lor  Stevensoi 
.  .  .  Johnson's  post-convention  trej 
mem  of  his  pre-convention  allies  m 
be  fairly  described  .is  petty,  \indictiv 
and  downright  imprudent.  .  .  .  Loq 
leaders  feeling  the  weight  of  Johnson 
displeasure  .  .  .  are  spokesmen  for 
increasingly  effective  grass-roots  par 
organization  which  would  he  tailed  ino 
erate  in  any  state  but  Texas.  Here  tl 
papers  describe  it  as  a  "liberal-lab< 
loyalist  splinter  group."   .   .   . 

B\  1961  the  Democrats  oi  Texas  at 
their  senior  Senator  should  know  Iro 
bitter  experience  what  happens  when 
20th-century  Canute  seeks  to  commaJ 
the  tide.  Mrs.  Jack  Cart 

Fort  Worth.  Tc. 


Egghead  Sprij 

To  THE  I'm  ioks: 

In  general  I  cannot  quarrel  with  wl 
Editor  Fischer  [The  Editor's  Easy  Chi 
March]  has  identified  as  the  major  trer 
in  mid-century  concerning  intellect!!! 
It  is  what  he  failed  to  observe  that  sec, 
so  alarming.  Namely  that  the  only  ' 
tellet  tuals"  who  have  become  respectaJ 
are  the  "doers"— those  who  "apply"  tl 
science  and  serve  the  ends  of  what 
Wright  Mills  has  identified  as  the  "po 
elite."  .  .  . 

The  questioner,  the  skeptic  in  thej 
isting  social  order  is  still  thought  to 
"unsound."  .  .  . 

The  ultimate  survival  of  the  world 
pends  not  upon  military  might  but  uf 
the  development  ol  the  skills  and  kn< 
edge  necessary  to  uncover  causes 
develop  solutions  to  man's  social  pi 
lenis.  The  philosopher,  social  sc  ien 
teacher  concerned  with  these  prob 
is  being  left  to  wither  on  the  econd 
vine.  Robert  H.  Simm 

Las  Vegas.  N. 

.  .  .  The    real    points    of    interest 
I058  will   be  politics,  recession,  and 
tivities  in  outer  space  and  definitely! 
the  return  of  semantics  spreaders  to 
sphere  which   they  have  not  previc 
occupied.    Your  theme-  is  absurd. 

P.  J.  Hoij 
Box  ford, 

...  I  am  persuaded  that  if  you  wJ 
go  hack  to  a  time  when  the  popula 
was  about  one-third  what  it  is  now.I 
would  find  the  eight  million  higl 
figure  constant,  bearing,  of  coursT 
much  higher  proportion  to  the 
than   at   present.  .  .  . 

You  state  with  a  tinge  of  amazei|! 
that  Lyndon  Johnson  taught  school 


LETTERS 

It  everybody  taught  school  in  the 
Be  scholarly  last  century.  It  was  usual 
leach  for  a  while  before  going  back 
I  he  farm  after  graduation  from  col- 
I,  or  going  into  the  law  or  business. 

I  It  is  probable  that  more  Members 
llongress  in  that  period  held  degrees 

I I  today.  .  .  .  What  is  now  called 
I:  egghead  was,  in  those  days,  almost 
I!  man  in  the  street  or  on  the  farm. 
I/,  the  college-bred  farmers  spoke 
Jheir  cows  in   Latin— soh,   bos,    soh, 

.  .  Homer  Joseph  Dodge 

Washington,  D.  C. 


New  Discoveries 

the  Editors: 

he  first  article  by  George  W.  Gray 
Irch]  was  very  interesting.    However 
I  point  puzzles  me.   The  article  states 
production    of    a    single    gram    of 
am  releases  150  million  calories  [of 
]— enough  to  raise  1 1/2  million  quarts 
ater  from  the  freezing  to  the  boiling 
tt."    Should  this  have  been  li/2  mil- 
grams  or  cubic  centimeters  instead 
uarts?  Orvis  McDermed 

Alva,  Okla. 

nee  it  takes  100  (large)  calories  to 
the  temperature  of  a  litre  (or  ap- 
imately  a  quart)  of  water  from  the 
:ing  to  the  boiling  point,  150  million 
ries  would  do  that  amount  of  heat- 
to  U/2  million  quarts. 

George  W.  Gray 
Sparkill,  N.  Y. 


Leopard's  Spots 

the  Editors: 

the  March  Letters  column  Lee  L. 
pie  invokes  a  leopard  with  un- 
liable spots  in  support  of  his  argu- 
t  that  Richard  Nixon  has  not  and 
not  change  his  political  views.  .  .  . 
hen  I  was  in  Africa  ...  I  had  the 
>rtunity  of  observing  the  full  cycle 

leopard  that  does  change  its  spots. 
|  pardus  adaptus  does   its   hunting 
lie  jungle  during  the  summer,   and 
:he  open   veldt   during   the   winter, 
s  are  just   the   thing  ...  to   blend 
ith  a  dappled  sunlight  jungle  scene, 
they  would  be  less  than  useless  on 
dried-grass    veldt.     So    felis   pardus 
>tus  discards  his  spots  in  favor  of  a 
sant  lion-yellow  for  the  winter, 
would  like  to  suggest  to  Mr.  Stop- 
since  even  leopards  now  and  then 
ige  their  spots,  that  he  base  his  judg- 
t  of  Mr.    Nixon   more   on    Nixon's 
;nt  actions  than  on  his  past  behavior. 
Ken  Biskit 
Ass't.  Prof.  Zoology 
Calif.  Inst.  Technology 
Pasadena,  Calif. 


The  faces  look  on  it 

and  mirror  its  trickery  or  logic  ... 

or  show  a  shy  approval 

,  .  perhaps  bewilderment. 
This  passing  and  precarious  adventure 
that  is  life  demands  all  instincts  .  .  . 
as  it  maroons  the  hesitant 
and  inspires  the  brave. 
Yet  strength,  we  all  have  found,  is  often 
a  matter  of  preparation. 
May  we  at  Columbian  National 
help  you  plan  your  future? 


The  COLUMBIAN  NATIONAL 
Life  Insurance  Company 

77  Franklin  Street,  Boston,  Massachusetts 

An  enlarged  reproduction  of  this  drawing  by  Joseph  Hirsch,  without  our  message,  is 
yours  for  the  asking-  Please  mention  this  magazine  when  you  write;  there  is  no  obligation. 


TYPICAL    OWNERS    d 


PEOPLE  AND  PROFITS: 

Both  are  needed  to  make 
America's  capitalism  work 


New  challenges  from  abroad  and  economic  readjustments  at 
home  make  it  more  important  than  ever  that  our  distinctive 
brand  of  capitalism  be  understood  and  encouraged  by  all 
Americans. 

America  s  capitalism  is  a  "People's  Capitalism"  that  mast 
drawits  strength  from  the  voluntary  participation  of  free  citizens. 
About  a  half  million  men  and  women  are  owners  of  General  Elec- 
tric. 10  million  Americans— young  and  old,  from  small  cities  and 
large,  bakers  as  well  as  bankers— have  invested  directly  in  Amer- 
ica's businesses;  another  100  million  indirectly  own  shares  through 
their  insurance  policies,  mutual  savings-bank  accounts,  pension 
plans,  mutual  funds,  or  other  forms  of  investment. 

All  people— not  just  a  fen— benefit  when  businesses  earn  profits. 
In  America's  capitalism,  the  millions  of  men  and  women  who  have 
invested  their  savings  in  businesses  may  be  rewarded  through  divi- 
dends. Millions  more  benefit  indirectly  in  many  ways  — in  their 
pension  funds,  or  through  the  work  of  research  foundations  and 
charitable  organizations  which  entrust  capital  to  business.  More 
important  still,  everyone  benefits  when  profitable  companies— by 
reinvesting  a  part  of  their  earnings  — are  able  to  undertake  the 
research  and  development  and  the  expansion  and  modernization 
which  lead  to  new  jobs,  products,  and  services. 

Profit  is  the  incentive  to  take  the  bold  and  imaginative  risks 
needed  for  prog?  ess.  Businesses  are  in  free,  vigorous  competition 
to  anticipate  and  satisfy  the  needs,  the  wants— and  even  some  of 
the  unspoken  aspirations— of  the  American  people.  Companies  that 
fail  to  provide  what  people  want  will  become  profit-starved  and  a 
national  liability.  Those  that  succeed  are  the  underlying  resource 
of  a  vital  civilian  economy  and  a  strong  national  defense. 


//  you  would  like  a  copy  of  our  1957  Annual  Report,  describing 
progress  for  customers,  share  owners,  em ployees,  and  the  na- 
tion as  a  whole,  please  write:  Dept.  J2-119,  Schenectady,  N.  Y. 


Progress  /s  Our  Most  Important  Product 


GENERAL 


ELECTRIC 


Mrs.  Dolores  Toporowski  has  owned  shl 
in  General  Electric  for  4  years.  Two-tm 
of  U.  S.  share  owners  earn  under  $7,1 


CLERGYMAN 


Reverend  J.  Edward  Carothers' church! 
many  churches,  colleges,  and  institutj 
depends  on  dividends  for  part  of  its  incl 


ENERAL    ELECTRIC:    These  capitalists  come  from  all  walks  of  life 


WELDER 


Cichy  is  learning  early  how  Amer-  Amy  Jane  Bowles  is  one  of  a  growing  Leopold  Arbour  was  one  of  14,000  new 
's  capitalism  works— his  parents  gave  number  of  women  share  owners;  over  half  General  Electric  owners  in  1957.  The  num- 
la  his  first  shares  on  his  11th  birthday,     of  General  Electric's  owners  are  women,     berof  G-E  owners  increased  50%  since  1952. 


.  Longine  Furman  is  typical  of  people       Arthur  Gallagher  is  also  a  G-E  supplier.     Mrs.  Ann  Shem  is  one  of  more  than  133,- 

participate  in  "People's  Capitalism"       His  firm  is  one  of  45,000  which  furnish     000  employees   participating  in   General 

livesting  part  of  their  savings  regularly.       the  company  with  vital  skills  and  services.      Electric's  Savings  and  Stock  Bonus  Plan. 


GENERAL    ELECTRIC    DEALER 


I  eph  Doty,  Professor  of  History,  teaches      Mary  Hammond  supplements  her  income     Share   owner  Allen  Merriam  also   owns 
ft  ut  the  past  and  invests  in  the  future     from  General  Electric's  Pension  Plan  with     one  of  the  400,000  independent  firms  which 

I I  shares    of    General    Electric    stock,      dividends    from    General    Electric    stock,      sell  and  service  General  Electric  products. 


JOHN   FISCHER 


the  editor's  EASY  CHAIR 


How  to  Keep  Congress  Honest 


Tl  I  I  Eunniest  juggling  act  since  the  death  of 
W.  C.  Fields  is  the  gingerly  handling  of 
the  FCC  investigation  by  our  embarrassed  Con- 
gressmen. 

Tliev  had  never  dreamed  it  would  tome  to  this. 
Originally  they  had  hired  an  innocent  scholar, 
Dr.  Bernard  Schwartz,  to  make  a  gently  academic 
study  of  the  Federal  Communications  Commis- 
sion and  other  regulatory  agencies.  Instead  he 
began  to  fumble  around  the  hasp  of  the  most 
dangerous  Pandora's  box  in  Washington.  They 
fired  him  fast,  ol  course,  but  by  that  time  the 
lid  was  ajar  and  the  newspapermen  were  prying 
at  it  with  crowbars.  The  scaly  things  emerging 
have  stung  a  lot  of  Congressmen  already,  and 
most  of  those  yet  unscarred  are  living  in  a  trauma 
ol  anxiety  about  what  might  crawl  out  next. 

Meanwhile  the  rest  of  us  are  getting  a  brief 
glimpse  at  what  may  be  the  most  serious  flaw 
in  our  whole  system  of  government— and  the 
hardest  to  mend.  It  is  simply  this:  Nowhere  in 
American  life  is  there  any  agency,  public  or 
private,  which  can  check  up  effectively  on  the 
behavior  of  Congress. 

This  is  the  point  where  our  system  of  checks 
and  balances  breaks  down.  The  failure  is  espe- 
cially  dangerous  today  because  the  power  of 
Congress  has  grown  enormously  in  recent  years 
—as  it  always  does  when  the  executive  branch 
is  weak.  Yet  there  is  no  way  for  the  ordinary 
citi/en  to  find  out,  continuously  and  in  detail, 
how  well  his  Congressman  is  doing  his  job  .  .  . 
how  far  he  may  be  yielding  to  improper  pressures 
...  or  when  and  where  he  might  be  slipping 
into  corruption. 

Congress  can,  and  usually  does,  investigate 
everything  else  on  the  political  landscape.  But 
nobody  can  investigate  Congress— for  reasons  to 
be  noted  in  a  moment.  It  is  true  that  Dr. 
Schwartz  behaved  in  a  tactless  and  unruly 
fashion  which  practically  invited  his  own  dis- 
charge. But  his  main  offense,  to  the  politicians, 
was  that  for  one  eyeball-searing  moment  he 
swiveled  Congress's  own  searchlight  back  on 
Congress  itself. 


For  nobody  can  peer  more  than  an  inch 
below  the  surface  of  the  FCC— or  any  other 
regulatory  agency— without  spotting  a  lot  of 
Congressmen  in  compromising  positions.  Many 
of  them  are  deeply  enmeshed  in  the  operations 
of  these  agencies,  as  Louis  I..  Jaffe  pointed  out 
last  September  in  "The  Scandal  in  TV  Licens- 
ing'' in  this  magazine.*  The  FCC,  for  example, 
is  empowered  to  grant,  or  to  withhold,  radio 
and  television  licenses  worth  many  millions  ol 
dollars.  Congress  has  never  set  up  any  clear 
standards  to  guide  the  commission  in  making 
these  decisions,  or  any  procedures  such  as  those 
which  safeguard  the  operations  of  the  courts. 
Consequently  the  awards  can  be  influenced  by 
whim,  or  undercover  pressure,  or  favoritism. 
The  result  is— in  Schwartz's  somewhat  melo- 
dramatic terms— "a  blow  at  the  very  vitals  of 
good  government";  but  it  is  also  a  sweet  political 
asset  to  a  lot  of  Congressmen. 

It  works  like  this.  (Along  with  every  other 
Washington  correspondent,  I  saw  it  happen 
many  times  while  I  was  covering  the  FCC  and 
Congress  for  the  Associated  Press.  But,  as  we 
shall  see,  newspapermen  seldom  get  a  chance 
to  report  such  things.)  A  businessman  wants  a 
license  to  start  a  TV  station  in  his  home  town. 
Naturally  he  goes  to  his  Congressman  for  help. 
Perhaps  he  had  the  foresight  to  contribute 
generously  to  good  old  Joe's  last  campaign  fund: 
if  not,  there  always  is  another  campaign  just 
around  the  corner. 

Naturally  Joe  is  eager  to  show  how  zealously 
he  serves  his  constituents.  He  calls  up  one  or 
two  FCC  commissioners  and  puts  on  the  pres- 
sure. Naturally  they  listen.  They  are  politicians 
too,  usually  hoping  for  reappointment  or  for 
a  better  job.  They  never  forget  that  Congress 
doles  out  the  money  for  their  agency,  and   that 

*  That  article  was,  so  far  as  we  can  discover,  the 
first  full  account  of  the  odd  goings-on  in  the  FCC.  It 
was  cited  by  Dr.  Schwartz  in  his  confidential  memo- 
randum to  the  investigating  committee  as  the  work 
of  "one  of  the  country's  leading  authorities  on  ad- 
ministrative law"  and  it  was  at  least  in  part  responsible 
lor  the  opening  of  the  investigation. 


Va't -—■■.  >. 


'■■■  }'■:•■■ 


Canadian  Pacific . . . 


'jt>c^u    ' '   by  Land . . .  across  Canada 


Now  see  Canadian  Pacific's  spectacular  Banff-Lake  Louise  Route 
from  the  Scenic  Domes  of  "The  Canadian" 


Treat  yourself  to  the  world's 
longest,  most  spectacular  Scenic 
Dome  ride  as  "The  Canadian" 
winds  through  the  Canadian 
Rockies  on  its  transcontinental 
route.  From  high  up  in  the  Scenic 
Domes  of  Canada's  only  stain- 
less-steel streamliner  you'll  thrill 
to  the  breath-taking  view  of 
Canada's  unspoiled  natural 
beauty.   And   traveling   "The 

Mile-high  in  the  Canadian  Rockies, 
Banff  Springs  is  famous  the  world 
over  for  its  scenic  surroundings,  com- 
plete outdoor  recreation  facilities.  Both 
Banff  and  nearby  Lake  Louise  are  on 
the  direct  route  of  "The  Canadian." 


Canadian"  you'll  find  the  accom- 
modations superb,  the  service 
unexcelled.  You  may  travel 
tourist  or  first  class— coach  seats 
reserved  at  no  extra  fare. 

Contact  your  travel  agent  for 
full  details  about  "The  Canadian" 
—  in  daily  service  throughout 
the  year  between  Montreal  or 
Toronto,  and  Vancouver. 

World's  Greatest  Travel  System 

RAILWAYS  •  STEAMSHIPS  •  AIRLINES 
HOTELS  •  COMMUNICATIONS-  EXPRESS 


16 


THE    EDITORS     EASY     (HAIR! 


appointment   i<>  most  worthwhile  federal  offices 
has   (o  be  confirmed  bv  the  Senate. 

II  the  businessman  is  particularly  eager  for 
that  license  (and  not  too  scrupulous  about  how 
he  gets  it)  he  may  cultivate  friendships  with  a 
lew  commissioners,  and  maybe  with  an  FCC 
examiner  as  well.  What  could  be  more  natural 
than  remembering  his  friends  (and  his  Congress 
man)  at  Christmas?  Oi 
picking  up  their  checks 
at  an  industry  conven- 
tion? Or  arranging  a 
speaking  engagement  lm 
a  friend  at  a  comfoi  table 
leer  Or  offering  him  a 
loan  in  a  moment  <>l  need? 
Or— if  the  politician  hap 
pens  to  be  a  lawyet .  as  so 
mam  are— perhaps  a  lit- 
tle business  can  be  ste<  nil 
to  the  partners  in  his  firm. 
I  Ik  sc  i  osts  <  an.  ol  (  ourse. 
be  <  harged  oil  against  the 
businessman's  income  tax, 
and  in  any  ease  the)  are 
peanuts  in  comparison  with  the  money  he  will 
make   il    his   license   is  granted. 

Somebody  else  is  alter  thai  same  license. 
Since  the  number  ol  TV  channels  is  rigidly 
limited,  bv  nature  itself,  inevitably  there  will 
In  competition  fot  die  right  to  use  (free  of 
charge)  ibis  precious  chunk  of  public  property. 
So  the  competitot  consults  his  friends  in  Con- 
gress, hires  a  Washington  attorney  skilled  at 
the  practice  oi  influence  lathei  than  law,  and 
scurries  around  to  find  everybody  who  might 
put  in  a  word  lor  him  with  the  commission. 
At  this  point  the  stage  is  set  for  what  Repre- 
sentative Oren  Harris  ol  Arkansas  described  as 
"one  ol  the  most  tragh  examples  of  undue  in- 
fluence and  high-pressure  tactics."  He  was  re- 
ferring to  the  Miami  case,  then  under  stuck  bv 
his  committee— but  any  knowledgeable  Wash 
ington  correspondent  could  tell  him  about 
plenty   ol    other   examples. 

WH  Y ,  then,  haven't  these  newspapermen 
told  the  public  what  is  going  on?  Be- 
cause they  are  muzzled  by  two  things:  (1) 
governmental  secrecy;    (2)  the  libel   laws. 

Some  secrecy,  in  military  and  diplomatic 
matters,  is  of  course  essential.  Bui  perhaps  nine- 
tenths  of  the  "Confidential"  stamps  in  Washing- 
ton have  no  such  justification.  They  are  used 
primarily  to  cover  up  the  mistakes  of  our 
bureaucrats,  and  to  enable  them  to  avoid  em- 
barrassing questions.  There  is  no  valid  national 
security  reason,  lor  instance,  why  the  FCC's 
licensing  functions  should  not  be  conducted  in 
a  plate-glass  window;  yet  a  reporter  has  little 
more  access  to  its  deliberations  than  to  those  of 
the    Joint   Chiefs  ol    Stall.    So    long   as    its   doors 


4w» 


smv?' 


Ih    IhiIcs   to   be  obligated   to   the   Big   Hoy 


and  files  remain  closed  to  him.  he  cannot  docu- 
ment the  stoi\  ol  a  brewing  scandal— even 
though  he  can  smell  it  from  the  other  side-  ol 
the-  Potomac. 

Even  il  he  could  get  hold  ol  the  relevant  lac  is 
in  such  cases,  a  newspaperman  seldom  would 
be  able  to  use  them  unless  the\  are  set  forth 
in  the  official  record  ol  an  investigating  com 
mittee,  court,  or  Congres- 
sional debate,  and  thus 
made  "privileged''  under 
the  laws  ol  libel.  I  le  may 
know  very  well  that  a 
friendship  between  a  lob- 
byist and  a  public  servant 
is  i ipening  into  undue  in- 
fluence—but until  that 
lact  is  incorporated  in  a 
privileged  record,  he  can- 
not print  it  without  risk- 
ing a  damage  suit.  The 
libel  laws— unlike  most 
secrecy  regulations— are 
sound  policy;  they  give 
innocent  people  a  neces- 
sary protection  against  irresponsible  smears.  But 
they  do  mean  that  the  press  alone  cannot  <an\ 
on  the  constant  scrutiny  and  exposure  which 
keep  government  honest. 

Moreover— I  am  ashamed  to  say— a  reporter 
sometimes  finds  that  his  publisher  is  not  par- 
ticularly eager  lor  him  to  look  too  closely  into 
the  workings  ol  the  FCC.  Many  newspapers,  and 
some  magazines,  own  radio  and  TV  stations. 

So  do  a  surprising  number  ol  Congressmen 
and  Senators.  They  have  thoughtfully  exempted 
themselves  from  the  conflict-of-interest  statutes 
which  apply  to  other  public  servants.  And 
nearly  all  of  them  faithfully  observe  one  of  the 
most  ancient  rules  ol  politics:  Never  squeal  on 
a  colleague.  This  great  principle  transcends 
party  lines.  It  links  Democrats  and  Republicans 
alike  in  a  silent  brotherhood.  The  Politicians' 
Mutual  Benevolent  and  Protective  Association. 
For  example,  the  late  Senator  Pat  McCarran 
of  Nevada  was  notorious  in  Washington  lor  his 
close  relationship  with  a  certain  large'  corpora- 
tion. He  looked  after  its  interests  assiduously, 
both  in  the  handling  of  legislation  and  in  its 
dealings  with  the  agency  (not  the  FCC)  which 
regulated  its  affairs.  Every  member  ol  the  Senate 
knew  this.  Many  of  them  detested  him,  politi- 
cally and  personally.  Yet  no  Senator  ever  men- 
tioned this  curious  symbiosis  in  open  debate. 
When  reporters  suggested— as  several  ol  us  did  — 
that  it  might  make  an  interesting  subject  for 
Senatorial  investigation,  his  colleagues  either 
laughed  or  looked  appalled. 

Similarly,  none  ol  them  expressed  any  official 
curiosity  when  the  late  Senator  Joe  McCarthy 
accepted  $10,000  for  writing  a  pamphlet-worth 
perhaps  $200   il    it    had   been  done  by  a   profes- 


Lisbon 
Cadiz 
Casablanca 
■.§m  langier 
Barcelona 
Palma 


French 
Riviera 

Italian 
Riviera 


■  Madeira 


11  Sunlane  Cruises  to  the  Mediterranean 


*  the  first  glimpse  of  Cannes  you'll 
Bit  up  a  whole  roll  of  film.  Here  on  the 
a  iiatmg  French  Riviera  you  can  ex- 
>  e  fabulous  Nice,  ancient  La  Turbie, 
5'  'land  to  Grasse,  the  world's  perfume 
:•  er.  Must:  a  spin  along  the  spectacu- 
a  Grande  Corniche  Drive  between 
-  lies  and  Monte  Carlo  (perhaps  a 
"  II  flyer  at  the  Casino  tables':'). 

alls  at  colorful  Genoa  give  you  a 
:'  ice  to  discover  Italy's  picturesque 
■»  tra.  Every  Sunlane  Cruise  drops  in 
V  Japles.  The  glorious  bay,  Vesuvius, 


the  nearby  ruins  of  doomed  Pompeii, 
and  Sorrento  and  Amalfi  are  pure  gold 
for  the  sight-seer.  You  can  include  visits 
to  Rome,  to  Seville,  to  North  Africa. 

Take  a  3-week  Sunlane  Cruise  this  Fall 
aboard  the  air-conditioned  Constitution 


or  Independence.  It  costs  as  little  as  $555 
in  Cabin  Class  or  $715  in  First.  Sea-Air 
Cruises  are  also  available.  You  cruise  to 
Naples  by  ship,  sight-see  across  Europe 
to  Paris;  London,  too  .  .  .  return  over- 
night by  T.W.A.  plane  ...  15  days  or 
longer.  See  your  Travel  Agent  soon,  or 
send  for  illustrated  brochure. 


Constitution  •  Independence 

flagships  of  American  ExportJjLines 


39    BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK   6,  N.Y. 


AMERICAN  PRESIDENT  LINES 

GRAND  FLEET  OF  THE  PACIFIC  AND  ROUND  THE  WORLD 

SERVING  50  PORTS  ON  4  MAJOR  TRADE  ROUTES 


, 


THE    EDITOR'S     EASY     CHAIR 


nal  writer— from  a  company  much 
erested  in  pending  legislation, 
d  I  knew  another  Senator  (since 
eated)  who  worked  like  a  slave 
push  through  price-fixing  legisla- 
n  wanted  by  several  large  drug 
npanies;  by  coincidence,  one  of 
cm  paid  a  handsome  retainer  to 
law  firm.  This  fact,  too,  was 
leath  the  notice  of  his  fellow 
/makers. 

D  O    not  mean    to    suggest    that 
mbers  of  Congress   are  generally 
honest.     On     the    contrary,     the 
■at  majority  of  those  I  have  known 
thoroughly    honorable    men;    I 
ubt  whether  you  could  find  any 
ler  group  of  531  people  contain- 
;  a  lower  percentage  of  scalawags, 
ither    do    I    know    of    any    other 
islative  body  with  a  higher  level 
ethics.    The   British   Parliament, 
instance,  condones  conduct  which 
lericans    would    regard    as    scan- 
lous;  more  than  a  hundred  of  its 
mbers  are  paid  salaries  by  unions 
trade    associations    to    serve    as 
)kesmen  for  their  interests. 
vVhat   I   am    trying   to   suggest   is 
t   Congress    cannot    be    expected 
police  itself.    It  is  extremely  re- 
liant   to     expose     the    occasional 
1  apple   in    its   barrel— or    to   un- 
rer  the  much  more   common   re- 
ionship     between     Congressmen, 
npaign      contributors,      and      the 
chinery    of    government.     A    no- 
ious    example    was    the    Senate's 
ction  in  1956  to  the  effort  of  an 
and   gas   lobbyist,   with   cash   in 
ad,   to   influence   Senator   Francis 
se  of  South  Dakota.   When  Sena- 
Case  publicly  denounced  the  oil 
i  gas   men,    his    colleagues   were 
ious— at    him,    not    the    lobbyists, 
blic  indignation   forced    them   to 
raiise  a  thorough  investigation  of 
tbying    and     campaign     expendi- 
es;  but  the   public's  wrath  soon 
)led,  and  so  did  the  investigation, 
tey  are  still  mad  at  Senator  Case, 
in  like  fashion,   the  inquiry  into 
:  shenanigans  inside  the  FCC  and 
kindred  agencies  almost  certainly 
il  peter  out,  as  soon  as  Schwartz's 
|  usations  fade  from  the  headlines 
1  the  voters'   memory.    A   really 
tained  and  ruthless  investigation 
u Id  embarrass  too  many  Congress- 
n.    It  very  probably  would   turn 
even    worse    cases    of    pressure 
litics    in     the    Civil     Aeronautics 


Board— which  parcels  out  lucrative 
routes  to  air  lines— and  in  the  agen- 
cies controlling  the  use  of  public 
lands. 

Does  all  this  mean  that  the  situ- 
ation is  hopeless— that  there  is  no 
effective  way  to  keep  an  admonitory 
eye  on  our  Congressmen,  and  on 
the  agencies  most  vulnerable  to  their 
trafficking  in  political  favors? 

Not  quite.  Several  things  might 
be  done— but  each  of  them  would 
require  a  little  active  interest  by  a 
fairly  large  number  of  citizens  over 
a  considerable  period  of  time.  I 
doubt  whether  we  will  get  it.  The 
sad  fact  is  that  most  Americans  are 
not  good  citizens.  Most  of  them 
don't  seem  to  give  a  damn  whether 
their  public  servants  are  honest  or 
not.  Except  in  times  of  crisis— such 
as  war  or  depression— or  when  an 
issue  touches  their  own  racial,  re- 
ligious, or  pocketbook  nerves,  they 
take  only  a  perfunctory  and  sporadic 
interest  in  the  public  business.  If 
this  sounds  like  a  harsh  conclusion, 
then  ask  yourself  five  questions: 
How  long  has  it  been  since  you  last 
wrote  your  Congressman?  Or  at- 
tended a  meeting  of  your  city 
council?  Or  protested  in  any  way 
against  laziness  or  dishonesty  in  pub- 
lic office?  Or  took  part  in  a  political 
meeting?  Or  contributed  to  a  cam- 
paign fund? 

The  last  question  is  the  most 
important.  Campaigning  is  expen- 
sive. It  takes  at  least  $100,000- 
and  usually  many  times  that— for  a 
candidate  to  pay  his  bills  for  radio, 
TV,  printing,  mailing,  and  travel. 
This  money  obviously  has  to  come 
from  somebody.  If  it  doesn't  come 
in  $5  bills  from  thousands  of  ordi- 
nary citizens  with  no  axes  to  grind, 
then  it  surely  will  come  in  big  checks 
from  a  few  big  operators— the  oil 
and  gas  boys,  trade-union  bosses, 
gamblers,  ranchers  and  lumbermen 
using  public  lands,  manufacturers 
who  want  a  tariff  raised,  applicants 
for  government  licenses,  and  the 
like.  And  you  can  be  sure  that  each 
of  these  eventually  will  try  to  cash 
in  on  his  investment. 

The  candidate  knows  it  too— and 
he  knows,  as  well  as  Benjamin 
Franklin  did,  that  it  is  hard  for  an 
empty  sack  to  stand  upright.  That 
is  why  he  would  much  prefer  to  get 
his  campaign  money  in  modest  sums. 
He  doesn't  want  to  be  obligated  to 


YOKOHAMA- 
HOST  TO  THE  PRESIDENTS 

The  distant  bronze  voice  of  the  temple 
gong,  the  clatter  of  wood-soled  getas  on 
the  street:  for  her  passengers  these  are  the 
first  sounds  of  travel  adventure  in  Japan 
as  the  proud  president  Cleveland  nears 
her  Yokohama  berth. 

The  flagship  also  bears  precious  raw  mate- 
rials for  this  busy  nation's  industry;  her 
homeward  route  is  the  express  highway  to 
America  for  the  finely  fashioned  products 
of  Japan. 

A  President  day  in  port  begins.  A  day  of 
peaceful  exchange,  of  mutual  good  will. 
A  day  of  esteem  for  America's  colors, 
flying  high  over  a  proud  President  liner. 

Visit  Japan,  the  Philippines  and  Hong 
Kong  on  a  6-week  discovery  cruise  from 
California  aboard  the  presidents  Cleve- 
land, hoover  or  wilson.  (The  presi- 
dents Cleveland  and  wilson  call  at  Ha- 
waii both  outbound  and  on  return).  Cruise 
fares  from  $1386  (with  pvt.  bath).  Add  an 
extension  tour  to  Bangkok,  Angkor  Wat, 
Singapore,  India.  Pressed  for  time?  Go  one 
way  by  President  liner,  one  way  by  air. 

To  Yokohama  on  the  World's  Greatest 
Travel  Adventure 

Visit  Yokohama  among  21  fabulous  ports 
on  a  'Round-the- World  cruise  of  the  pas- 
senger-cargo vessels,  ss  president  polk 
and  ss  president  monroe.  Sailings  every 
8  weeks  from  New  York  and  California. 
Fares  from  $3075.  Or  choose  deluxe  Mari- 
ners and  other  modern  cargoliners  for 
friendly  freighter  travel  'Round-the- World. 

New  York  to  California 

2  weeks  of  enjoyment,  rest,  on  sunny  seas 
to  California  with  the  daytime  transit  of 
the  Panama  Canal — a  memorable  event  of 
your  voyage;  aboard  deluxe  Mariners  and 
other  cargoliners — fares  from  $350.  Add 
Acapulco  aboard  the  president  polk  or 
president  monroe.  Min.  fares  to  Acapul- 
co, $475;  to  San  Francisco,  $550.  See  your 
travel  agent  for  details. 

See  your  freight  forwarder  or  broker  for 
cargo  information. 

AMERICAN  PRESIDENT 
LINES 

General  Offices: 

311  California  Street,  San  Francisco  4, 

California 


How  far  away  are  you  from 
financial  independence? 

Before  you  answer,  let's  take  up  an 
easier  question.  Are  you  attracted  by  the 
idea  of  a  second  income  — an  income  from 
dividends  that  may  turn  up  in  your  mail- 
box year  after  year? 
This  seems  like  such  a  good  idea  we're 
surprised  that  even  more  people  don't 
look  into  the  possibility  of  getting  an  in- 
corr.e  from  dividends  on  stock.  Are  any 
of  these  questions  making  you  hesitate? 

Do  only  the  rich  own  stock?  More  than 
eight  and  one  half  million  Americans 
own  stock  and  two  out  of  three  have 
incomes  under  $7500  a  year.  Many  of 
them  have  acquired  stock  in  famous  com- 
panies for  as  little  as  $40  every  three 
months.  This  is  the  convenient  and  help- 
ful Monthly  Investment  Plan. 

Is  there  risk   in  owning  stock?    Of 

course  there  is.  There's  risk  in  owning 
any  kind  of  property.  But  your  money 
can't  earn  extra  money  unless  you  put  it 
to  work.  When  you  invest,  use  only 
money  left  over  after  living  expenses  are 
paid  and  emergencies  provided  for.  Re- 
member that  stock  prices  go  down  as  well 
as  up.  That  a  company  may  not  pay  a 
dividend,  may  not  keep  up  with  competi- 
tion. So  always  get  the  facts  before  you 
invest.  Never  depend  on  tips  or  rumors. 

Are  you  doubtful  about  how  to  start? 

You  can  start  right  here,  right  now,  by 
sending  the  coupon  for  our  wonderfully 
useful  free  booklet,  "dividends  over  the 
years."  It  gives  the  records  of  more  than 
300  stocks  that  have  paid  dividends  every 
year  from  25  to  over  100  years.  It  lists 
those  that  have  paid  5  to  6  percent  at 
recent  prices,  those  favored  by  financial 
institutions,  and  much  more.  And  it 
describes  the  Monthly  Investment  Plan. 

Have  you  yet  to  meet  a    broker?  If 

this  is  your  problem,  it  is  easily  reme- 
died. Just  drop  in  on  one  today.  Make 
sure  he's  with  a  Member  Firm  of  the 
New  York  Stock  Exchange.  He'll  help 
you  work  out  an  investment  program 
in  keeping  with  your  pocketbook.  He'll 
help  you  buy  or  sell.  Ask  him  whether 
he  thinks  bonds  might  be  a  better  invest- 
ment for  you  than  stock.  And  from  time 
to  time,  ask  him  to  review  your  holdings. 

But  right  now  —  send  the  coupon.  Why 
not  look  into  the  possibilities  of  moving 
toward  financial  independence  some  day 
by  building  an  income  from  dividends? 

Own  your  share  of  American  business 

Members  New  York 
Stock  Exchange 

For  offices  of  Members  nearest  you,  look  under  New 

York  Stock  Exchange  in  the  stock  broker  section  of 

your  classified  telephone  directory. 


Send  for  new  free  booklet.  Mail  to 
your  local  Member  Firm  of  the  Stock 
Exchange,  or  to  the  New  York  Stock 
Exchange,  Dept.  C-58,  P.  O.  Box  252, 
New  York  5,  N.  Y. 

Please  send  me,  free,  "DIVIDENDS  OVER 
THE  YEARS,  a  basic  guide  for  common 
stock  investment." 


BROKER,  IF  ANY_ 


THE    EASY    CHAIR 

the  Big  Boys;  he  would  Ear  rather 
be  able  to  tell  them,  when  they  call 
to  ;i->k  for  a  shady  favor,  to  go  to 
hell.  Yet  only  2  per  cent  ol  the 
American  people  have  ever  given  a 
tliin  dime  to  ,i  campaign  fund. 

SO  I  III-  one  most  useful  thing 
an\  ol  us  can  do  lo  keep  our  public 
servants  honest  is  to  chip  in  a  lew 
dollars  to  back  decent  candidates  in 
this  tail's  elections.  Anybody  who 
can't  afford  il  cannot,  in  good  eon- 
science,  keep  on  complaining  about 
rascally  politicians. 

There  are  othei  things— quite 
effective  ones— which  the  conscien- 
tious  citizen  can  do  without  spend- 
ing a  penny.  During  the  next  six 
months  all  Congressmen  will  be 
moving  around  their  districts,  speak- 
ing at  tallies,  attending  political 
teas,  and  shaking  hands  on  the  street. 
Every  one  ol  them  will  insist  that 
he-  is  eager  to  hear  what  his  constit- 
uents are  thinking,  and  to  answei 
their  questions  about  his  own  con- 
duct in  office.  Make  a  point  ol 
meeting  voiu  Congressman  (and  his 
opponent)  and  asking  some  ques- 
tions. Here  are  a  lew  samples;  il'  they 
are  mentioned  by  as  many  as  fifty 
voters  in  any  district,  you  can  be 
certain  that  both  candidates  will  take 
them  very  seriously  indeed: 

"Whv.  Mi.  Congressman,  does  the 
government  give  away,  lot  nothing, 
the  privilege  ol  using  valuable 
chunks  ol  the  public  domain?  Win 
aren't  TV  channels  and  air  routes 
and  grazing  rights,  lor  example,  sold 
to  the  highest  bidder?*  It  a  television 
license  is  worth  $5  million,  why 
shouldn't  the  station  owner  pay  pre- 
cisely that?   Wouldn't  this  he  a  good 

*  A  top  official  of  one  ol  the  major 
networks  whom  I  consulted  on  this  point 
argues  that  competitive  bidding  would 
give  too  great  an  advantage  to  the  rich- 
est applicants.  This  is  a  danger,  all 
right,  hut  not  necessarily  a  fatal  one.  It 
conlcl  he  largely  avoided  by  permitting 
only  two  or  three  stations  under  ;i  single 
ownership,  giving  preference  to  well- 
established  local  applicants  as  against 
outsiders,  and  forbidding  a  monopoly 
of  all  local  channels  of  communication 
(newspapers,  radio,  and  TV)  by  a  single 
interest.  Moreover,  the  applicant  rich 
enough  to  finance  the  heaviest  lobbying 
and  pressure  campaign  already  seems  to 
have  a  considerable  advantage  in  dealing 
with   die   FCC  and  Con;;)  ess. 


FOR  MORE  VACATION  FUN 

^GIMLET 

29  YRS.  TRAVEL-WISE  TRAVELERS  GUIDE 

Where  and  How  to  Go.  What  to  See.  The  Costs. 
CANADA  thru  FLORIDA,  and  Enroute.  Nassau,, 
Cuba,  West  Indies.  Includes  N.Y.C.  228  PAGES 
illus.  Price  $1.00  postpaid.  Address  The  Gimlet,. 
Dept.    19-H,   745-5th   Ave.,   N.Y.C.   22. 

Typical  Hotels  Recommended  &  Described 

Spring  Lake  Beach,  N.J. 
THE   ESSEX 
AND   SUSSEX 

A  resort  world  in  it- 
self, under  the  man- 
agement of  Fred  L. 
Abel  of  the  Seaview 
at  Miami  Beach.  Sit- 
uated directly  on  the 
ocean  with  its  own 
private  beach,  the 
ESSEX  and  SUSSEX  is 
a  massive  resort 
property  accommo- 
dating 400.  Conven- 
ient to  MONMOUTH 
PARK  racetrack.  Ten- 
nis Courts,  Putting 
Green  on  premises. 
Golf  Club  few  min- 
utes away.  Famous 
Essex  Lounge  for 
cocktailsand  dancing. 
Formal  and  casual 
dance  nights  in  the 
ballroom.  Sixty  miles 
from  NYC  off  the 
Garden  State  Park- 
way (exit  96).  Late 
June  to  early  Sept. 
Am.  plan. 


Miami,    Florida 

McAllister  hotel, 
fabulous  miami's 
largest  and  finest 

HOTEL.  Overlooking 
beautiful  Biscayne 
Park  and  Biscayne 
Bay.  Corner  Biscayne 
Boulevard  and  Flagler 
Street  ...  In  the 
very  heart  of  business 
and  shopping  area 
.  .  .  within  steps  of 
sightseeing,  race 
tracks,  deep-sea  fish- 
ing, theaters,  restau- 
rants and  all  trans- 
portation. A  wide 
varietyof  beautiful  ac- 
commodations, rang- 
ing from  modest 
priced  single  guest 
rooms  to  luxurious 
penthouse  suites  with 
private  rooftop  ter- 
races. Free  Television 
in  every  room.  Excel- 
lent Coffee  Shop.  Su- 
perb Convention  and 
Meeting  facilities. 
COMPLETELY  AIR- 
CONDITIONED. 
You're  closer  to 
Everything    in    Miami 

at    the    McAllister 

.  . .  that's  why  it  is  the 
economical  place  to 
stay.  LOW  SUMMER 
RATES.  A  Schine 
Hotel.  C.  DeWitt 
Coffman,  General 
Manager. 


Nassau,    Bahamas 
BALMORAL     CLUB 
NOW     OPEN     ALL 
YEAR.    With    its    pri.j 
vote    ocean    beaches,1! 
its     unsurpassed    res- J 
taurant,    "Ocean    Pa-iJ 
tio"     on     the     beachl 
and  its  delightful  ac-l 
commodations    to] 
meet      everyone's^ 
taste,      this      fashion- 
able   Colony    of    Bal- 
moral   Club    offers 
perfect       setting       for 
gracious    and    luxuri- 
ous   living.    Here    yoi 
can  find  all  the  facil- 
ities for  a  perfect  va-i 
cation,    whether    yot 
intend     to     spend 
week   or   two,   or   the 
balance      of      season 
Fishing,     sai  ling 
water   skiing    ant 
unparalleled     swim- 
ming     and      ot  he 
sports  (at  your  door) 
You  may  have  a  bed) 
room  -  bathroom 
ting-room      suite, 
private       bedroomj 
bathroom      f  European 
or  Modified  Americarj 
Plan)      or     an     entiri 
house     to     accommo' 
date   five   or   six   perl 
sons    on     the    house! 
keeping  basis,   if   yo1 
prefer.     Low    Summe 
Rates.  See  your  Trave 
Agent     or      write 
cable    direct    to    Bal 
moral    Club,    Nassat 
Bahamas. 

West  Palm  Beach,  Fla 
P  EN  N  SYLVAN  I 
HOTEL  -  LUXURIOU 
AND  FINEST  YEAF 
ROUND  RESOR 
HOTEL  IN  THE  PAL/ 
BEACHES,  Fac.ng  Th 
Palm-Lined  Shores  C 
Beautiful  Lake  Wortl 
Only  two  blocks  froi 
Theaters  and  Shop' 
ping,  yet  sufficient  I 
off  the  beaten  path  1 
insure  quiet.  OfFerin 
everything  you  cou 
possibly  want  in  tF 
way  of  a  Florida  Fu 
and  Sports  Vacatic 
—plus  quiet  refin< 
ment  for  complete  1 
laxation.  (Air-Cond 
tioned  Throughou 
TV  and  Radio 
Every  Room.)  Del 
cious  Food.  Splend 
Service.  Friendly  o 
mospbere.  Delightf 
RAINBOW  ROOM  f 
Cocktails,  Dancin« 
Parking  directly  co 
nected  with  tr 
Lobby.  LUXURY  > 
BUDGET  PRICES.  LO 
SUMMER  RATES.  F' 
FREE  Folder  and  d,. 
tailed  informal 
WRITE:  Herbert 
Glass,  Manage 
Pennsylvania  Hot-1 
West  Palm  Beach,  F! 


THE    EASY    CHAIR 

iy    to    stop    all    the    finagling    for 

luable  handouts,  and  at  the  same 

ne  put  a  lot  of  money   into  the 

deral  treasury?  .  .  . 

"Don't  you  think  that  all  of  the 

deral    regulatory    agencies    should 

compelled  to  operate  in  the  open 

tripped  of  their  veil  of  secrecy— 

the  public  can  see  who  is  trying 

influence   them,   and  how?  .  .  . 

"Why  shouldn't   their  officials  be 

quired  to  abide  by  the  same  rules 

ethics    and    decorum    that    now 

vern  our  courts?    (If  a  lobbyist— 

a  Congressman— tried  to  whisper 

the  ear  of  a  federal  judge  about 

pending   case,   or   offered   him   a 

an,  or  hinted  at  political  favors  to 

me,  he  would  be  slapped  into  jail 

fast  the  bars  would  rattle.)  .  .  . 

"If  you    are    elected,    would   you 

willing  to  introduce  legislation 
create  a  watchdog  for  all  of  the 
gulatory  agencies?  How  about  a 
rmanent,  non-partisan  Commis- 
>n  of  Inquiry— with  its  members 
11  paid  and  appointed  for  life,  just 
„e  the  Supreme  Court— to  keep  a 
nstant  watch  on  their  operations? 

would  need  a  modest  staff  of 
vestigators,  access  to  the  agencies' 
s,  the  power  to  summon  officials 
fore  it  for  public  questioning  at 
y  time,  and  the  duty  to  recom- 
md  their  dismissal  and  prosecu- 
>n  whenever  it  turns  up  anything 
|hy.)  .  .  . 
"Do  you  believe  that  members  of 
mgress  should  be  made  subject  to 
e  conflict-of-interest  laws,  just  like 
her  public  servants?  Would  you 
willing  to  disclose  your  business 
anections,  outside  earnings,  and 
urces  of  income?  .  .  . 
"Will  you  support  legislation  with 
il  teeth  in  it  to  control  campaign 
ntributions?     (Four    teeth    would 

enough.  1.  Full  disclosure  a 
'ek  before  election  day  of  every 
nny  a  candidate  receives,  and 
tere  it  comes  from.  2.  A  realistic 
ait  on  the  amount  that  each  can- 
Jate  can  spend  and  that  others 
n  spend  on  his  behalf.  The  lat- 
:  safeguard  is  needed  to  prevent 
ge,  anonymous  contributions  un- 
r  such  guises  as  The  Citizens 
•mmittee  for  Congressman  Joe 
r,   the   British   have   developed   a 

of  rules  which  seem  fairly  air- 
ht,  and  which  might  well  be 
apted  here.  3.  Another  limit— 
r  a  total  of  $5,000-on  the  amount 


"La  Quebrada"  Acapidco  Mexico. 

I         ACAPULCO 

jL  J>  the  world  famous  seashore  resort 
of  enthralling,  unforgettable  and 
mysterious  beauty,  where  nature 
stands  forth  in  singular  magnificence. 
Rugged  cliffs,  snow  -  white  beaches 
surrounded  by  exotic  tropical  vegetation. 
Here  you  can  enjoy  unexcelled  surf-bathing, 
boating  and  exciting  deepsea  fishing. 
Splendid  hotels,  incomparable  sunsets  and 
dancing  under  starry  skies. 

You'll  be  really  happy  vacationing  in  Mexico. 

MEXICO  awaits  you.     Your  travel  agent  will  tell  you. 

MEXICAN  GOVERNMENT  TOURIST  BUREAU 

10S  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA                    3106  Wilshire  Blvd.  ;  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y.  630  fifth  Ave  No.  801    Rockefeller  Center 

CHICAGO,  ILLINOIS           27E.  Monroe  Street  Suite  No.  304  :  SAN  ANTONIO,  TEXAS                         209  E.  Travis  Street 

HOUSTON,  TEXAS                                     809  Walker  Ave.  :  MONTREAL,  CANADA         1255  Phillips  Square,  Suite  No  206 

MIAMI,  FLORIDA                               45  Columbus  Arcade  •  TORONTO,  CANADA                                20  Carlton  Street 

NEW  ORLEANS,  LOUISIANA                203  SL  Charles  Street  ;  IA  HABANA,  CUBA       Calle  23,  No.  72  •  La  Rampa,  Vedado. 


/ 


/ 


Ballantine's 
1 7  year  old/ 
Scotch . .  W^ 

when  only   / 
the  best  is  / 
good  enough. 


LIQUEUR  BLENDED 
sCOTCH    WHISK' 

17  Years'old 

C  BL-(Noeo  *  BOTTLED  ■"'   ;         . 


St 


2  I"  Brand*  ,  Int.    N.  y  c. 


8      6  PROOF 

ALSO   IMPORTERS   OF   94.4   PROOF  BAllANTINE'S   DISTILLED   LONDON   DRY   GIN    DISTILLED   FROM    GRAIN 


Charles  Laughton 

rides  an  INCLIN-ATOR 

in  this  scene  from  the 

"hit"  movie  "Witness 
for  the  Prosecution" 

An  Arthur  Hornblow  Production 


ENJOY  A   COOL,  COLORFUL 


Thrills,  humor  and  suspense  combine  to  make  this 
scene  memorable.  Charles  Laughton,  playing  a 
lead  part  as  the  attorney  for  the  defense,  skims 
up  and  down  the  stairs  of  this  set  on  an  Inclin-ator. 
You  can  have  the  comfort  of  an  INCLIN-ATOR  in 
your  home.  It  will  save  you  and  your  family  from 
the  unnecessary  strain  of  climbing  stairs  dozens  of 
times  a  day.  Many  smart  people  install  an 
INCLIN-ATOR  without  waiting 
for  the  doctor  to  tell  them  to 
"take  it  easy." 

We  also  build  the  "Elevette"  for 
those  who  prefer  a  vertical  lift. 
Send  for  this  folder— It  tells 
how  easy  and  inexpensive  it  is 
to  have  an  Inclin-ator  or  Elevette 
in  your  home. 


INCLIHATOR    COMPANY    OF    AMERICA 


2214  Paxton  Blvd.,  Harrisburg,   Pa. 


HEADQUARTERS 


for  the  numerous  cultural  and  musi- 
cal events  in  Aspen — two  swimming 
pools,  superb  cuisine,  riding,  tennis, 
fishing,  dancing,  scenic  trip  on  world 
famous  ski  lift.  Write  for  FREE  four 
color  booklet. 


HOTEL  JEROME  •  ,sJ±/»e»  ^^eat/cu^ 

ASPEN   24,   COLORADO 


THE    EASY    CHAIR 

an)  person  can  give  (or  lend)  duri 
a  single  campaign  to  all  politic 
organizations  and  to  candidates  f 
all  offices.  This  would  prevent 
licit  oil  man  or  union  boss,  for 
ample,  from  living  to  buy  up  cancl 
dates  in  a  dozen  states,  and  th 
throwing  an  additional  big  die 
into  his  party's  national  kitty 
Legal  machinery,  with  heavy  pc 
altics  and  an  adequate  policing  st 
to  make  sure  these  rules,  and  the 
already  on  the  books,  are  rigk 
enforced.)... 

"In   order   to   encourage   a   lot 
small  campaign  contributions,  wi 
no  strings   attached,  why   not  ma 
them    tax   deductible   up   to   S10 
just   like  worthy  charities?"* 

A    GOOD    Congressman    will 
glad    to   discuss   all    these  questio 
and    to  give  you   frank   answers 
he    doesn't,    he    does    not    dese^ 
your  vote.    (The  same  thing  goes 
course,  for  his  opponent— regard! 
of   partv.)    And   you   don't   have 
wait   till   you   meet   your  Candida 
at  a  campaign  rally.  You  could  wij 
your   Congressman   now.    He   mij, 
be  glad  to  mull  over  some  of  th 
questions  before  the  campaign  st; 
—and    you   might   get   some   snip 
ingly    interesting    answers.     II 
have   never   tried   it,   you  may  e 
discover   that   this  kind  of  pofiti 
experiment   can    be   quite   a   lot 
fun.  All  it  costs  is  one  postage  sta 
.  .  .  any  number  can  play  .  .  .  ; 
at  the  very  least  you  will  get  i 
pleasant  glow  which  comes  from 
ing  your  duty  as  a  citizen. 

If  enough  people  did,  we  woj 
not  of  course  get  a  government! 
alabaster  purity.  We  never  will* 
long  as  these  forty-eight  states  1 
inhabited  by  human  beings  hist  J 
of  angels.  But  we  would  get  the  nil 
honest,  efficient,  and  economical  n 
eminent  yet  seen  on  this  continjl 
or  any  other. 

*  This  month,  for  the  first  timJ 
history.  Republicans  and  Democrats™ 
joining  together  in  a  drive  to  raise 
million  in  small  and  stringless  coM 
butions.  The  idea  originated  with  Plip 
L.  Graham,  publisher  of  the  WashinjMi 
Post,  and  is  now  being  sponsored^ 
the  American  Heritage  Foundation  Ml 
the  Advertising  Council.  If  it  work™ 
may  turn  out  to  be  the  most  eflecve, 
weapon  for  good  government  since  M 
invention  of  the  grand   jury. 


PERSOjNIAJL  and  otherwise 


Among  Our  Contributors 


THE       UNCERTAINTY 
PRINCIPLE 

I A  M  ERIC  AN  public  schools 
!^V  have  all  but  dumped  the  classi- 
d  languages.  Only  6.9  per  cent  of 
ur  high-school  students  take  Latin 
sday,  and  hardly  any  take  Greek, 
his  change  from  the  nineteenth- 
;ntury  curriculum  has  been  on  pur- 
ose,  not  by  default.  For  with  80 
er  cent  of  our  children  from  four- 
sen  to  seventeen  years  old  in  high 
chool  and  with  a  good  proportion 
f  adults  high-school  graduates,  most 
mericans  consider  themselves  quali- 
ed  to  make  decisions  about  educa- 
on.  Why  not?  If  you've  spent  most 
f  your  working  hours  for  twelve 
ears  on  something,  you  have  a 
ight  to  an  opinion.  But  on  the 
uestion  of  the  classics,  where  our 
ractice  is  an  about-face  from  the 
European  tradition,  we  feel  we  have 
ome  defending  and  explaining  to 
o.  So  when  a  physicist  outstand- 
ig  in  the  world  community  of 
cience  comes  out  with  a  case  for  the 
lassies,  we  roll  back  before  lunging. 
The  name  of  Werner  Heisenberg* 
as  been  in  the  papers  in  recent 
/eeks  because  of  his  announcement 
l  Bonn,  Germany,  of  a  new  mathe- 
matical formula  which  may  lead 
o  a  unified  field  theory  and,  if 
■roved  correct,  may  win  the  goal 
t  which  Einstein  was  aiming.  Ac- 
ording  to  reporters,  the  equation 
diich  Heisenberg  and  his  associates 
lave  recently  worked  out  explains 
heoretically  the  events  that  take 
ilace  within  the  nucleus  of  the 
torn.  From  it,  all  other  laws  of 
lature  may  be  derived,  and  as  a 
onsequence,  in  practical  terms,  "the 
xact  amount  of  energy  necessary  to 
plit  any  nucleus  [of  any  atom,  not 

*  "A  Scientist's  Case  for  the  Classics" 
p.  25)  is  adapted  from  a  book  by  Hei- 
enberg  entitled  The  Physicist's  Concep- 
ion  of  Nature,  to  be  brought  out  in  the 
all  by  Harcourt,  Brace.  Another  Heisen- 
>erg  work  will  be  published  on  May  14 
>y  Harper  &  Brothers:  Physics  and 
"hilosophy. 


just  the  unstable  heavy  atoms]  can 
be  calculated." 

In  the  lead  article  this  month, 
Professor  Heisenberg  describes  his 
boyhood  education  and  relates  it  to 
the  formation  of  his  tastes  and  am- 
bitions. He  studied  the  classics 
partly  because  this  was  the  normal 
course  in  Munich  around  1915  and 
partly,  we  may  suppose,  because  his 
father  was  professor  of  Greek  at  the 
University.  The  apparent  disparity 
between  his  training  and  his  career 
as  a  physicist  who  won  the  Nobel 
Prize  at  the  age  of  thirty-two  is  less 
odd  than  it  sounds  to  us  Americans. 
Nor  is  it  strange  that  Heisenberg 
worked  at  the  University  of  Berlin 
throughout  World  War  II,  was  cap- 
tured by  American  troops  and  taken 
to  England,  and  returned  to  Ger- 
many to  continue  research  at  the 
Max  Planck  Institute  for  Physics. 

Granted  the  weird  convulsions  of 
the  twentieth  century,  Heisenberg's 
training  and  experience  were  con- 
ventional.   Only  his  mind  was  not. 

Until  more  comes  out  in  this  coun- 
try about  Heisenberg's  new  discovery, 
it  is  likely  that  he  will  continue 
to  be  known  popularly  as  the  author 
of  the  famous  Principle  of  Uncer- 
tainty, which  rings  a  familiar,  if 
muffled,  bell  of  recognition  with 
most  general  readers. 

The  formulas  which  express  this 
principle  are  not  very  revealing  to 
the  layman,  but  in  Heisenberg's  own 
words  (in  Nuclear  Pliysics)  it  is  per- 
haps deceptively  simple.  It  concerns 
the  behavior  of  particles  within  the 
atom: 

One  can  never  know  simultane- 
ously with  perfect  accuracy  both  of 
those  two  important  factors  which 
determine  the  movement  of  one  of 
these  smallest  of  particles— its  posi- 
tion and  its  velocity.  It  is  impossible 
to  determine  accurately  both  the  po- 
sition and  the  direction  and  speed  of 
a  particle  at  the  same  instant.  If  we 
determine  experimentally  its  exact 
position  at  any  given  moment,  its 
movement  is  disturbed  to  such  a  de- 
gree by  that  very  experiment  that  we 
shall  then  be  unable  to  find  it  at  all. 
And    conversely,    if    we    are    able    to 


€*tjoy. 


QUEBEC  VACATION 

Just  an  easy  trip  by  road,  rail, 
air,  brings  you  to  French-Canada, 
a  picturesque  land  of  rivers, 
mountains,  lakes,  where  old 
world  towns  and  villages  are  the 
jewels  in  the  valley  of  the  mighty 
St.  Lawrence,  where  the  Lauren- 
L  tian  Mountains,  the  Gaspe 

\        Peninsula,  the  Eastern  Town- 
ships, the  wild  Provincial 
Parks  offer  you  the  finest 
fishing,  touring,  camping — 
where  all  sports  are  at 
their  best. 


g^m,  Write   now  for    illustrated   booklets 

P**JL         and  road  map  to:  Provincial  Pub- 
ifMllipiir™  licity  '  Bureau,    Parlia- 

Tj     \f  /— v,       ment  Buildings,  Quebec 

1      City,     Canada;    or    48 
I    Rockefeller  Center,  New 
±J     York  20,  N.Y. 


Visit 


...FOR  A  NEW  VIEWPOINT 

Jpl  --  Seeking  something  new  and 

v^?";-:'d  exciting  in  travel?  Then  visit 

IjBjfl  Japan!  You'll  enjoy  the  beauty 

3£j*£i=  of  the  country  . . .  fine  modern, 

;SJK|f=  comfortable  hotels;  excellent 

?-;-=£  transportation;  wonderful 

LjjfelE  food;  and  thrilling  bargains. 

^?  Give  yourself  a  new  viewpoint 

I  ...  see  your  Travel  Agent  and 

:  plan    a    memorable    vacation 

i  in  the  intriguing  Orient! 


Juu  ToumtMomwh 


lO  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  York  20 
651  Market  Street,  San  Francisco  S 
48  Front  St.  W.,  Toronto 
109  Kaiulani  Ave.,  Honolulu  15 


22 


PERSONAL    &    OTHERWISE 


measure  exactly  the  velocity  ol  a 
particle,  the  picture  of  its  position 
becomes  totally  blurred. 

It  would  beau  intellectual  scandal, 
no  doubt,  to  try  to  apply  this  princi- 
ple to  other  than  atomic  or  cosmic 
realms  -su<  h  as  literar)  c  1  iti<  ism  or 
the  business  cycle  or  the  question 
of  the  classics  in  secondary  educa- 
tion.   But  it  is  tempting  to  try. 

since  (as  we  understand  Heisen- 
berg)  it  is  the  intruding  observer 
(the  experimentei  >  tbat  dislodges  the 
movement  and  makes  certainty  im- 
possible, could  it  not  be  that  Pro- 
lessor  Heisenberg  (now  at  age  lilt\ 
six)— recollecting  bis  education  in 
Munich  (age  eight  to  eighteen)  has 
himsell  dislodged  the  reality  ol  what 
was?  Could  it  not  be  that  the  ideal 
training  lot  a  Nobel  Prize-winner  is 
still  clouded  in  Uncertainty  and  as 
variable  as  the  observer  thereof? 

II  so,  then  we  Americans,  naked 
as  we  are  of  Latin  and  (.reck,  i  an 
listen  respectfully  but  not  shut  up. 
Equipped  with  more  than  nine 
years  ol  some  kind  of  education  per 
capita  — we  can  continue  to  argue  as 
hotly  as  before,  each  man  his  own 
(  \pert. 

.  .  .  American  lolklore  is  developing 
a  special  branch  lor  Frank  Lloyd 
Wright,  tin  most  renowned  and 
controversial  American  architect,  liv- 
ing or  dead.  A  new  chapter— all  the 
better  lor  being  true— appears  in 
"How  Frank  Lloyd  Wright  Got  His 
Medal"  (p.  30).  The  narrator  is 
Alfred  Bendiner,  Philadelphia  archi- 
tect, Fellow  of  the  American  Insti- 
tute ol  Architects,  owner  of  a  csim- 
balom  (his  spelling)  that  was  played 
at  the  St.  Louis  World's  Fair,  and 
a  man  ol  many  talents.  Muralist  and 
illustrator,  he  has  had  work  shown 
in  many  art  museums  here  and 
abroad.  His  book  of  musical  carica- 
tures is  called  Music  to  My  Eyes. 

Mr.  Bendiner  was  born  in  Pitts- 
burgh of  Hungarian  parents,  who 
brought  him  to  Philadelphia  as  a 
baby. 

The  portrait  of  F.  L.  W.  on  the 
cover,  and  the  drawings  inside  were 
made  by  Mr.  Bendiner.  The  build- 
ing on  the  cover  is  Mr.  Wright's  fa- 
mous skyscraper  in  Bartlesville,  Okla- 
homa, called  The  Price  Tower. 

.  .  .  Second,  third,  and  fourth  waves 
ol   books  about  World   War   II   may 


William  S.  White,  Capitol 
"  correspondent  of  the  Neiv 
York  Times  lor  the  last  thir- 
teen years,  has  become  Washing- 
ton correspondent  lor  Harper's 
Magazine,  lie  also  will  write  a 
syndicated  newspaper  column 
lor  the  United  Features  Syn- 
dic ate. 

While  he  was  with  the  Times, 
Mi.  White  wrote  two  books,  a 
Pulitzer  Prize-winning  biogra- 
l>h\  ol  Senator  Robert  \.  raft, 
and  Citadel:  The  Story  <>l  I lie 
U.  S.  Senate.  He  has  written  a 
number  of  articles  lor  Harper's; 
the  most  recent  was  "Who  Is 
Lyndon  fohnson?"  in  the  Man  h 
issue. 

Earlier  he  worked  with  the 
Associated  Piess  as  an  editor 
and  war  correspondent,  cover- 
ing the  Normand)  landing  on 
I)  da)  and  mu<  h  ol  the  fighting 
in  Fume.  Holland,  ami  Ger- 
many. Alto  the  war  he  han- 
dled foreign  assignments  lor  the 
Times  in  Latin  America  and 
Africa  .is  well  as  sei  ving  in  the 
paper's   Washington    Bureau. 


be  breaking  toward  us,  now  that 
more  than  a  decade  has  passed.  The 
new  writing  won't  resemble  either 
A  Bell  for  Adano  or  From  Here  to 
Eternity,  lor  the  propaganda  lines 
have  changed  or  laded.  It  is  likely 
to  be  more  factual  and,  not  impos- 
sibly, truer.  For  example,  Richard 
B.  McAdoo's  account  of  "The  Guns 
at  Falaise  Gap"  (p.  36). 

Mr.  McAdoo.  who  was  S-2  (Intelli- 
gence officer)  with  the  989th  Field 
Artillery,  left  Harvard  in  the  middle 
of  his  senior  year  (1942)  to  enlist  as 
a  private.  He  went  to  OCS  at  Fort 
Sill,  served  the  rest  of  the  war  with 
the  battalion  he  writes  about,  and 
came  out  a  Captain.  Since  the  war 
he  has  been  a  book  editor  at  Harper 
&  Brothers. 

..."Why  Canadians  Are  Turning 
Anti-American"  (p.  46)  is  a  problem 
that  concerns  Americans  a  good  deal 
more  deeply  than,  in  their  self-ab- 
sorption, they  know.  Bruce  Hutchi- 
son, who  sums  up  the  issues  between 
us,  is  editor  of  the  Victoria  (British 
Columbia)  Times  and  author  of  a 
half-dozen  best-selling  books  about 
Canada.  In  his  forty  years  in  the 
newspaper  business,  he  has  made  in- 
numerable trips  to  Washington  and 


won  main   American  friends  for  hi] 
country. 

Mi.      Hutchison's     newest     book 
Canada:  Tomorrow's  Giant,  brough 
out    by    Knopf,   was   described   in  J 
review  in  the  Washington  Post  as  "| 
shrewd    diary   of   a   nation's   moodsj 
an    eloquent   portrait   of   a    nationl 
mind,  a  confident  prophesy  of  a  na 
tion's  future.   There  is  no  one  quit] 
like    Hutchison    in    American    joui 
nalism.    He  is  a  sort  of  mixture  o1 
Thoreau,  Thomas  Wolfe,  and   Wi| 
ham  Allen  White.  .  .  ." 

.  .  .  Joyce  Warren,  who  went  "Hi! 
Climbing  by  Boat"  (p.  51),  is  th 
author  ol  Our  Clad,  a  novel  abot 
English  small-town  theater,  and 
Peacocks  and  Avarice,  a  book 
shorl  stories.  The  daughter  of  a 
English  rector  in  a  Derbyshire  vi; 
l.ige.  Miss  Warren  worked  in  th; 
movie  industry  and  came  to  Nel 
York  with  the  British  Informatio 
Services  during  the  war.  She  is  ma 
ried  to  an  American  geologist  no 
and    lives   in    Washington. 

The  British  Travel  Associatio 
(336  Madison  Avenue,  New  York  a 
has  pamphlets  about  holidays  i 
English  inland  waterways,  and  tell 
us  that  there  are  many  kinds  of  craf 
and  waters  for  tourist  cruises  in  adc 
tion  to  the  Narrow  Boats.  Thoml 
Cook  takes  bookings  for  some'  J 
these  cruises  and  also  British  Rail 
ways  (9  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  Yoi 
20).   Local  travel  agents  can  help. 


.  .  .  Leona  Train  Rienow's  "Lame 
for  Minnesota"  (p.  57)  comes  fro 
an  ex-Minnesotan  whose  love  I 
her  home  state  is  matched  by  h 
passion  lor  conservation  of  natur 
resources.  Born  in  Duluth,  she  grei 
up  on  the  Mesabi  Iron  Range.  SJ 
is  a  graduate  of  the  University  I 
Chicago  and  has  an  M.A.  from  tl1 
University  of  Minnesota. 

Married  to  a  professor  of  politic 
science  at  the  State  University 
New  York  in  Albany,  Mrs.  Rienc" 
lives  in  a  colonial  farmhouse  on  F 
acres  of  a  woodland  wildlife  sarj 
tuary.  She  has  written  childrei 
books  and  is  now  collaborating  wi 
her  husband  on  a  book  about  livii 
with  the  atom. 

.  .  .  The    author   of   "The    Guy   j 
Ward    4"    (p.    60),    Leo    Rosten, 
also   the   author   of   The   Educatii 


PERSONAL    &    OTHERWISE 


fj    h*Y*M*A*N  K*A*P*L*A*N*, 

[•  hich  he  wrote  under  the  pen  name 

Leonard    Q.    Ross.     Fiction    has 

B:en  a  hobby  with  him,  and  a  num- 

■  ;r  of  his  suspense  novels  have  been 
I  ade   into   movies,   including   "The 

I  ark  Corner"  and  "Sleep,  My  Love." 
[  e    has    also    written    some    fifteen 

II  ovies;  "Walk  East  on  Beacon'-  was 
lie  of  them. 

[  Mr.  Rosten  has  a  Ph.D.  in  social 
lience  from  the  University  of  Chi- 
ji  go,  and  on  Rockefeller  and  Car- 

■  ?gie   Foundation   grants,   he   made 

three-year    study    of    Hollywood 

■  hich  was  published  as  Hollywood: 
Mhe  Movie  Colony.  During  the  war 
■?  was  Deputy  Director  of  the  Office 

I  War  Information.   He  is  a  faculty 

■  sociate  at  Columbia  University  and 
liecial  editorial  adviser  for  Look 
H  agazine. 

■  .In  everyday  living,  the  eco- 
B)mics     of     divorce     usually     over- 

■  ■adows  its  ethics.  For  example,  in 
Hew  York  City,  where  divorce  laws 
Be  very  strict,  there  are  never the- 
Iss  an  estimated  half-million  women 
■id  children  living  on  alimony  and 
Iiild-support  payments.  It  is  this 
Important,  practical,  money  end  of 
Ivorce  that  Judge  Samuel  H.  Hof- 
Madter  and  Arthur  Herzog  discuss  in 

■  Common  Sense  About  Alimony" 
|>.  68). 

I  Judge  Hofstadter  has  been  a  Jus- 
Ice  of  the  New  York  Supreme  Court 
Ince  1933.  He  was  a  member  of 
lie  New  York  Legislature  from  1925 
M:   1932    and    chairman    of    the    so- 

;  lied  Mayor  Walker  Investigation 
I  which  Judge  Samuel  Seabury  was 
Jounsel. 

,  Born  in  Austria,  he  graduated 
Jom  the  New  York  Law  School  in 
, .  M3.    He  is  the  author  of  The  De- 

•lopment  of  the  Right   of  Privacy 
I    Neiv  York  and  other  works. 
'  <  Arthur  Herzog  is  a  free-lance  writer 
jlid  a  former  editor  of  Cavalier.  He 

■  as  an  M.A.  from  Columbia  Univer- 
,|ty  in  English  literature. 

>  .  Thomas  Wolfe— whose  Harvard 
iaywriting  and  other  early  sorrows 
*e  described  by  Philip  W.  Barber 
i  page  71— died  in  his  thirty-eighth 
;ar;  he  would  have  been  fifty-eight 
•is  September;  but  somehow  the 
nage  he  left  with  his  many  thou- 
nds  of  admirers  is  that  of  a  quite 
ning  man.   A  man  very  much  like 


the  one  Mr.  Barber  describes.  With 
"Look  Homeward,  Angel"  (in  the 
stage  play  by  Ketti  Frings)  now  a 
Broadway  hit,  that  picture  of  the 
eternal  youth— his  hero  and  himself 
—comes   to  vivid  life  again. 

Wolfe's  prose  can  scarcely  be  bot- 
tled into  a  paragraph,  but  one  bit 
from  The  Web  and  the  Rock,  about 
George  Webber,  on  his  twenty-fifth 
birthday,  surely  belongs  with  Mr. 
Barber's  record: 

It  is  a  wonderful  time  of  life,  but 
it  is  also  a  time  that  is  pregnant  with 
a  deadly  danger.  For  that  great  flask 
of  ether  which  feels  within  itself  the 
illusions  of  an  invincible  and  hurt- 
less  strength  may  explode  there  in  so 
many  ways  it  does  not  know  about— 
that  great  engine  of  life  charged  with 
so  much  power  and  speed,  with  a 
terrific  energy  of  its  high  velocity 
so  that  it  thinks  about  nothing  can 
stop  it,  that  it  can  roar  like  a  locomo- 
tive across  the  whole  continent  of  life, 
may  be  derailed  by  a  pebble,  by  a 
grain  of  dust.  .  .  . 

Philip  Barber's  career  after  the 
Harvard  days  with  Wolfe  has  been 
varied,  but  he  has  always  come  back 
to  the  theater  in  some  form.  He 
went  to  Yale  with  Professor  George 
Pierce  Baker  and  was  technical  direc- 
tor of  the  Yale  University  Theater, 
later  of  the  Group  Theater  in  its 
early  days;  and  then  stage  manager 
and  minor  actor  with  the  Theater 
Guild.  He  has  written  movie  scen- 
arios for  MGM  and- radio  scripts 
for  a  number  of  producers;  was  New 
York  City  director  of  the  Federal 
Theater.  After  work  with  the  War 
Relocation  Authority,  he  founded 
an  industrial  public  relations  firm, 
and  is  now  chairman  of  the  board. 

With  his  wife,  Mr.  Barber  started 
Music  Inn,  next  door  to  Tangle- 
wood  in  Lenox,  Massachusetts.  In 
1955  he  opened  the  Music  Barn,  the 
first  summer  concert  hall  for  jazz, 
and  last  year  helped  found  the 
School  of  Jazz  (see  "After  Hours," 
November  1957). 

.  .  .  "The  Academic  Overture"  (p.  50) 
comes  early  this  year,  from  Rich- 
mond Lattimore,  who  teaches  Greek 
at  Bryn  Mawr  and  is  the  author  of 
Poems,  a  first  volume. 

"Exchange"  (p.  58)  is  from  Miriam 
Waddington,  a  Montrealer,  author 
of  two  books  of  poems,  Green  World 
and  The  Second  Silence. 


JUNE  I,  1958  IS  THE 

CLOSING  DATE  FOR  THE 


HARPER 
'10,000 

Prize  Novel  Contest 

Any  unpublished  novel  in 
the  English  language  is 
eligible.  No  entry  form  is 
needed.  But  each  manu- 
script must  be  accompanied 
by  a  letter  stating  that  it 
is  submitted  for  the  Con- 
test and  has  never  been 
published  in  book  form. 
The  contest  opened  June  1, 
1957  and  will  close  June  1, 
1958.  In  order  to  be  eligi- 
ble, a  manuscript  must  be 
received  in  the  offices  of 
the  publishers  by  the  end 
of  the  business  day  on  the 
closing  date. 

The  Judges: 

SAUL   BELLOW 

Author  of 

The  Adventures  of  Augie  March, 

The  Victim,  etc. 

JOHN    K.    HUTCHENS 

Daily  Book  Critic  of  the 

New  York  Herald  Tribune. 

JESSAMYN    WEST 

Author  of 

Cress  Delahanty,  The  Witchdiggers, 

The  Friendly  Persuasion,  etc. 

Send  manuscripts  or  write  to: 

The  Harper  Prize  Novel  Contest 

HARPER   &    BROTHERS 

49  East  33rd  St.,  New  York  16,  N.  Y. 


ENGINEERS 

AND 
SCIENTISTS 


Polaris,  Earth  Satellite,  X-7,  Q-5, 
X-17  and  other  top-priority  pro- 
grams at  Lockheed  Missile  Sys- 
tems insure  continued  progress  for 
you  with  an  acknowledged  leader 
in  missile  technology. 

Positions  of  responsibility  are 
open  in  all  areas  at  all  levels. 
Qualified  engineers  and  scientists 
are  invited  to  write  for  further 
information  to  Research  and 
Development  Staff,  Dept.  27-04, 
Palo  Alto  23,  California. 


MISSILE    SYSTEMS 

A  DIVISION   OF    LOCKHEED 

AIRCRAFT    CORPORATION 

SUNNYVALE     •     PALO    ALTO     •     VAN     NUTS 

SANTA  CRUZ    •    CALIFORNIA 

CAPE  CANAVERAL  •    FLORIDA 

ALAM0G0R00  •    NEW  MEXICO 


BACH 

ON  LOCATION 

At  Zwolle,  in  Holland,  in  the 
15th-century  Gothic  church  of 
St.  Michael  is  a  splendid, 
four-manual  organ,  dating  from 
1720.  It  is  the  last  organ  built 
by  Arp  Schnitger,  whose  work 
is  considered  the  culmination  of 
the  high  baroque  era  of  organ 
building.  It  was  inevitable  that 
so  fine  an  organ  should  be 
visited  by  E.  Power  Biggs,  who 
has  traveled  far  and  wide  in 
search  of  the  most  appropriate 
instruments  for  his  recordings 
of  the  great  works  for  organ. 
Mr.  Biggs'  many  albums  of  the 
music  of  Bach,  Mozart  and 
others,  performed  on  centuries- 
old  instruments— in  many 
cases  those  the  composers 
themselves  once  used— are 
among  the  most  impressive 
achievements  of  the  recording 
art.  To  these  he  now  adds  three 
preludes  and  fugues  of  Bach, 
recorded  amid  the  majestic 
acoustics  of  St.  Michael's. 

BACH  AT  ZWOLLE:  Prelude 
(Concertato)  and  Fugue  in  D  Major 
("The  Great");  Prelude  and  Fugue  in 
C  Minor  ("Arnstadt");  and  Prelude  and 
Fugue  in  E-flat  Major  ("St.  Anne")— 
E.  Power  Biggs,  organist. 
KL  5262     C-E3 


MR.   K.'s 
EXTRAS 

"Encore!"  is  the  bracing  cry 
that  has  roared  from  the 
throats  of  audiences  in  concert 
halls,  opera  houses  and 
theaters  for  two  centuries  or 
more.  Unfortunately,  in 
modern  times  it  seldom  has 
any  effect  whatsoever  on  the 
conductor  of  a  symphony 
orchestra.  Unless,  of  course, 
the  conductor  happens  to  be 
Andre  Kostelanetz.  His 
concerts  with  the  New  York 
Philharmonic,  which  began  in 
1954,  have  enjoyed  nothing 
but  standing  room  and 
overflow  audiences,  and 
invariably  arouse  the  most 
insistent  calls  of  "encore!" 
Mr.  K.,  on  these  occasions, 
breaks  with  present  custom 
and  responds  with  courtesy 
and  brilliance.  For  this 
recording  he  has  selected 
some  of  the  most  popular  of 
the  "encore"  pieces  played 
at  the  end  of  his 
Philharmonic  concerts. 

ENCORE!:  Works  of  Wolf-Ferrari, 
Bach,  Granados,  Beethoven, 
Liadov,  Walton  and  Mourant— 
Andre  Kostelanetz  conducting  the 
New  York  Philharmonic. 
CL  1135      $3.98 


MUSICAL 
DOSSIER 

This  delightful  collection 
offers  a  surprisingly  accurate 
and  complete  description  of 
the  musical  psyche  of  their 
chooser— the  ubiquitous, 
multifaceted  wit,  intellectual 
and  artist:  Oscar  Levant.  He 
is,  we  can  tell  by  them,  a 
modern.  He  is,  at  times,  fiery, 
at  others,  deep  and 
tranquil.  He  knows  his 
dance  tempos.  He  knows  the 
music  of  the  outdoors  and 
remembers  the  mood  of 
the  nursery.  These  Favorites 
underscore  once  more  the 
appeal  of  the  wry,  kindly, 
softly  sardonic  personality 
that  half  hides,  half 
advertises  the  talent  and 
accomplishments  that 
lie  beneath. 

LEVANT'S  FAVORITES:  Falla: 

Fire  Dance;  Miller's  Dance  • 
Lecuona:  Malaguena   •   Poulenc: 
Pastourelle;  Mouvements 
perpetuels  •  Albeniz:  Tango  in  D  • 
Debussy:  Golliwog's  Cakewalk; 
Maid  with  the  Flaxen  Hair; 
Reflets  dans  I'eau;  La  Cathedrale 
engloutie;  Clair  de  lune;  La  plus 
que  lente  (valse);  The  Little 
Shepherd— Oscar  Levant,   pianist. 
CL  1134       $3.98 


Y 

MUSIC'S 
TOP  MAN 

Eugene  Ormandy  occupif 
is  perhaps  music's  most 
enviable  position— that  o 
politely  coaxing  the  work 
most  splendid  instrumen  j 
more  and  more  exalted  h  I 
Unlike  some  of  his  fellow  I 
helmsmen  who  "specialil 
Maestro  Ormandy  can  divl 
the  orchestral  repertoire  I 
point  from  Bach  to  BartoJ 
achieve  the  same  wondel 
results.  For  which  reasonl 
like  to  keep  him  as  busy  { 
possible,  recording  as  gr 
variety  as  possible.  His  l< 
recordings  are  evidence  < 
amazing  versatility,  and 
inalienable  right  to  the  ti 
"top  man  of  the  top  orch 

SMETANA:  The  Moldau  •  V 
Invitation  to  the  Dance  •  L 
Mephisto  Waltz  •  BERLIOZ: 
of  the  Will  o'  the  Wisps.  Dan 
Sylphs  and  Rakoczy  March- 
Philadelphia  Orchestra  •  E 
Ormandy,  conductor. 
ML  5261  $3.98 
DELLO  JOIO:  Variations.  CI 
and  Finale  •  VINCENT:  Syri 
in  D  —the  Philadelphia  Orel- 
Eugene  Ormandy,  conductol 
ML  5263  $3.98 


103  ANNIVERSARY  OF 
IMG  PUTINS  RECORDS 
COLUMBIA  -  HECOROS 


"LISTEN  IN 

DEPTH" 

ON  COLUMBIA 

PHONOGRAPHS 


THE  SOUND  OF 


GENIUS  IS  ON  HIGH 


-FIDELITY  RECORDSI= 


Still  Only  *3.98 


Y  COLTJMB A 


A  Division  of  Columbia  Broadcasts  iyst 
®  "Columbia"®  <?  Marcas  Reg. 
All  prices  are  suggested  list. 
Available  in  Canada  at  slightly  higlvp'i 


JI 


IH 


Harper 

magaJIzi  ne 


A  SCIENTIST'S  CASE 

FOR  THE  CLASSICS 


WERNER   HEISENBERG 

Nobel  Prize-winner  for  Physics 

The  man  sometimes  described  as  Einstein's 

successor  tells  why  a  sound  training  in  the 

Greek  philosophers  is  the  most  practical 

sort  of  education  for  a  scientist — and  how  he 

first  discovered  them  while  serving  as  a 

schoolboy  soldier  against  Communist  rebels. 

MANY  people  are  asking  today  whether  a 
classical  education  is  not  too  theoretical 
or  unworldly— whether  in  our  age  of  technology 
and  science  a  more  "practical"  education  would 
not  be  much  more  suited  to  equip  us  for  life. 
I  cannot  deal  with  this  question  fundamentally, 
for  I  am  not  a  teacher  nor  have  I  been  particu- 
larly concerned  with  education.  My  own  ex- 
perience may  be  of  some  interest,  however, 
since  I  had  a  classical  education  myself  and 
later  on  devoted  most  of  my  work  to  science. 

What  are   the  arguments  which  defenders  of 
the  humanities  usually  produce  for  concentrat- 
ing on   ancient  languages   and   ancient   history? 
5     In   the  first   place,   they   rightly   point   out   that 

in- 


our  whole  cultural  life,  our  actions,  our  thoughts, 
and  our  feelings  are  steeped  in  the  spiritual 
roots  of  the  West— in  that  attitude  of  mind 
which  in  ancient  times  was  brought  into  being 
by  Greek  art,  Greek  poetry,  and  Greek  phi- 
losophy. With  the  rise  of  Christianity,  and  with 
the  formation  of  the  Church,  a  great  change 
took  place;  and  finally  at  the  end  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  there  occurred  the  tremendous  fusion  of 
Christian  piety  with  the  freedom  of  spirit  of 
antiquity.  The  world,  as  God's  world,  was 
radically  altered  by  voyages  of  discovery,  by 
science,  and  by  technology.  In  every  sphere  of 
modern  life  whenever  we  look  at  the  roots  of 
things— whether  methodologically,  historically, 
or  philosophically— we  encounter  those  creations 
of  the  spirit  which  arose  in  antiquity  and  in 
Christianity.  Thus  we  may  say  in  favor  of  a 
classical  education  that  it  is  always  good  to 
know  the  sources  of  our  culture,  even  if  they 
have  few  practical  uses. 

Secondly,  we  must  stress  the  fact  that  the 
whole  strength  of  our  Western  civilization  is 
derived,  and  always  has  been,  from  the  close 
relationship  between  the  way  in  which  we  pose 
our  questions  and  our  practical  actions.  Other 
peoples  were  just  as  experienced  as  the  Greeks 
in  the  sphere  of  practical  action— but  what  al- 
ways distinguished  Greek  thought  from  that  of 
all  others  was  its  ability  to  change  the  questions 
it   asked    into   questions   of   principle.    Thus    it 


2G 


A    SCIENTIST'S    CASE    FOR    THE    CLASSICS 


could  arrive  at  new  points  oi  view  which  im 
post-  ordei  on  the  colorful  kaleidoscope  oi  ex- 
perience and  make  ii  accessible  to  human 
thought. 

Ii  is  this  which  made  Greek  though)  unique. 
I  \cn  during  the  rise  ol  the  Wesi  ai  the  time  ol 
the  Renaissance,  iliis  habit  ol  mind  stood  at  the 
mid-point  of  our  history,  and  produced  mod 
(in  science  and  technology.  Whoevei  delves 
into  the  philosophy  ol  the  (.neks  will  encountei 
;ii  ever)  step  this  ,il)ilii\  to  pose  questions  ol 
principle;  in  iliis  w.i\  he  <.ni  learn  to  command 
the  strongest  tool  produced  l>\  Western  thought. 

Finally,  it  is  justl)  s.iid  thai  .1  concern  with 
antiquit)  creates  a  sense  ol  judgment  in  which 
s|)iiiiu.il  \;ilucs  are  prized  higher  than  material 
ones.  It  is  precisel)  in  the  tradition  ol  (.reek 
thought  that  the  primac)  ol  the  spiiii  emerges 
clearly.  Today  some  people  might  take  excep- 
tion to  this  fact.  The)  might  sa)  that  out 
age  lias  demonstrated  that  only  material  power, 
raw  materials,  and  industry  are  important,  that 
physical  power  is  stronger  than  spiritual  might. 
It  would  follow,  then,  that  it  is  not  in  the 
spoil  ol  tin  times  to  teach  our  children  respect 
lot    spiritual    rather    than    material    values. 

DEBATES     WITH     LUNCH 

BUT  1  am  reminded  of  a  conversation  I  had 
some  thirty  years  ago  in  the  courtyard 
ol  our  university  in  Munich.  At  the  time  the 
iii\  was  in  the  throes  ol  a  revolution,  and  the 
inner  town  was  occupied  by  the  Communists. 
I.  then  a  seventeen-year-old  boy,  and  some 
ol  my  school  comrades  had  been  assigned  as 
auxiliaries  to  a  military  unit  which  had  its 
headquarters  opposite  the  university,  in  the 
theological  seminary.  Why  all  this  happened  is 
no  longer  quite  clear  to  me,  hut  it  is  probable 
that  we  found  those  weeks  of  playing  at  soldiers 
a  very  pleasant  interruption  of  our  lessons  at 
the  Maximilian  Gymnasium. 

In  the  Ludwig  Stiasse  there  was  occasional, 
ii  not  very  heavy,  shooting.  Every  noon  we 
fetched  our  meals  from  a  field  kitchen  in  the 
university  courtyard.  On  one  such  occasion  we 
had  a  long  argument  with  a  theology  student, 
debating  whether  these  minor  revolutionary 
snuggles  in  Munich  had  any  meaning.  One 
ol  my  younger  schoolmates  said  emphatically 
that  questions  of  power  could  never  he  settled 
l>\  spiritual  means— by  speeches  or  by  writing 
—but  that  force  and  force  alone  could  lead  to 
a   real   settlement   of   our  conflicts   with   others. 

The  theology  student  replied  that  in  the  final 


analysis  even  the  questions  ol  what  was  meant 
l>\  "we"  and  "the  others,"  and  of  what  dis- 
tinguished the  two.  would  obvioush  lead  to  a 
pinch  spiritual  decision,  lie  argued  that  in 
all  probability  we  should  gain  a  great  deal  II 
we  could  settle  this  question  more  reasonably 
than    was    commonl)    the    case. 

We  could  hardl)  object  to  this.  Once  an 
aiiow  has  left  the  bow,  onl\  a  strongei  force 
<an  divert  it  from  its  path -but  its  original 
direction  was  determined  l>\  the  one  who  aimed 
it:  and  without  the  presence  ol  a  spiritual 
being  with  an  aim,  it  would  nevet  have  been 
able  to  stait  on  its  flight.  Consequent!)  we 
could  do  lai  worse  than  teach  out  youth  not 
to   undervalue  the  spiritual. 

WAKING     UP     TO     THE     WORLD 

MY    FIRS  I    real  en<  ounter  with  s<  ience 
o((  uned  at   the  Maximilian  Gymnasium. 
Most    schoolboys   are    introduced    to   technology 
and  science   when    they   begin    to  plav    with    in-  1 
struments.    P>v  copying  the  example  ol  a  fellow 
pupil,  or   by   playing   with    Christmas   presents, 
or    occasionall)    even    through    school    lessons, 
they    begin    to    have    a    desire    to    handle    small 
engines    and    perhaps    even    to    build    one.     This  I 
is    precisely    what    I    did    with    great    enthusiasm 
during    the    lust    five   years   of   my    life   at    high  j 
si  hool. 

Ibis  activity  would  probably  have  remained 
a  mere  game  and  would  not  have  led  me  to 
real  science,  il  another  event  had  not  also  o<- 
curred.  At  the  time,  we  were  being  taught  the 
basit  axioms  ol  geometry.  First  I  lelt  this  to 
be  very  dry  stuff:  triangles  and  rectangles  do 
not  kindle  one's  imagination  as  do  flowers  and 
poets.  Hut  suddenly  one  day,  our  best  mathe- 
matics teacher,  Wolff  b)  name,  introduced  us 
to  the  idea  that  one  could  formulate  generally 
valid  propositions  from  these  figures,  and  that 
some  results— quite  apart  from  their  demon- 
strable geometric  properties— could  also  be 
proved  mathematically.  The  thought  that 
mathematics  somehow  corresponded  to  the 
structures  of  our  experience  struck  me  as 
extraordinarily   strange   and   exciting. 

What  had  happened  to  me  was  what  happens 
only  too  rarely  with  the  intellectual  gifts  which 
arc  presented  to  us  at  school.  Classroom  lessons 
generally  allow  the  different  landscapes  of  the! 
world  of  the  mind  to  pass  by  out  eves  without 
quite  letting  us  become  at  home  in  them.  Ac- 
cording to  the  teacher's  abilities  they  illumi- 
nate these  landscapes  more  or  less  brightl)  and 


BY   WERNER  HEISENBERG 


27 


we  remember  the  pictures  lor  a  shorter  or  a 
longer  time.  However,  very  occasionally,  an 
object  that  has  thus  come  into  our  field  of  view 
will  suddenly  begin  to  shine  in  its  own  light- 
first,  dimly  and  vaguely,  then  ever  more  brightly, 
until  finally  it  will  glow  through  our  entire 
mind,  spill  over  to  other  subjects,  and  eventu- 
ally become  an  important  part  of  our  own  life. 
This  happened  in  my  case  with  the  realization 
that  mathematics  fitted  the  things  in  our  ex- 
perience—a realization  which,  as  I  learned  at 
school,  had  already  been  made  by  the  Greeks, 
by  Pythagoras  and  by  Euclid. 

At  first,  stimulated  by  Herr  Wolff's  lessons, 
I  tried  out  this  application  of  mathematics  for 
myself  and  I  found  that  this  game  which  went 
on  between  mathematics  and  immediate  per- 
ception was  at  least  as  amusing  as  most  other 
games.  Later  on,  I  discovered  that  geometry 
alone  was  no  longer  adequate  for  this  mathe- 
matical game  which  had  given  me  so  much 
pleasure.  From  some  books  I  managed  to  learn 
that  the  behavior  of  some  of  my  homemade 
instruments  also  could  be  described  by  mathe- 
matics. I  now  began  to  read  voraciously  in 
somewhat  primitive  mathematical  textbooks,  in 
order  to  get  the  mathematics,  especially  the 
differential  and  integral  calculus,  needed  for 
I  the  description   of  physical   laws. 

In  all  this  I  saw  the  achievements  of  modern 
times— of  Newton  and  his  successors— as  the 
immediate  consequence  of  the  efforts  of  the 
Greek  mathematicians  and  philosophers.  In  fact, 
they  were  all  seen  as  one  and  the  same  thing— 
and  never  once  did  it  occur  to  me  to  consider 
that  the  science  and  technology  of  our  times 
represented  a  world  basically  different  from  that 
of  the  philosophy  of  Pythagoras  or  Euclid. 

ATOMS  WITH 
HOOKS  AND  EYES 

ALTHOUGH  in  my  youthful  ignorance 
I  was  not  fully  aware  of  it,  this  enjoyment 
of  the  mathematical  description  of  nature  had 
introduced  me  to  the  basic  trait  of  all  Western 
thought:  the  fundamental  inter-relationship  be- 
tween the  way  in  which  we  pose  questions  and 
practical  action.  Mathematics  is,  so  to  speak,  the 
language  in  which  the  questions  are  posed  and 
answered— but  the  questions  themselves  are 
concerned  with  processes  in  the  practical  mate- 
rial world.  Geometry,  for  instance,  was  designed 
for  measuring  agricultural  land.  Because  of  all 
this,  I  remained  far  more  interested  in  mathe- 
matics  than    in    science   or   instruments   during 


most  of  my  life  at  school.  It  was  only  in  the 
two  upper  classes  that  I  acquired  a  new  liking 
for  physics,  oddly  enough  because  of  a  fortuitous 
encounter  with  a  part  of  modern  physical  theory. 

At  the  time  we  used  a  rather  good  physics 
textbook  in  which,  quite  understandably,  mod- 
ern physics  was  treated  in  a  somewhat  offhand 
manner.  However,  the  last  few  pages  dealt 
briefly  with  atoms,  and  I  distinctly  remember 
one  illustration.  The  picture  was  meant  to 
represent  on  a  small  scale  the  state  of  a  gas. 
Some  of  the  atoms  were  clustered  in  groups  and 
were  connected  by  means  of  hooks  and  eyes, 
supposed  to  represent  their  chemical  bonds.  But 
the  text  itself  stated  that,  according  to  the  con- 
cepts of  the  Greek  philosophers,  atoms  were  the 
smallest  indivisible  building  stones  of  matter. 

I  was  greatly  put  off  by  this  illustration,  and 
I  was  enraged  by  the  fact  that  such  idiotic  things 
should  be  presented  in  a  textbook  of  physics.  I 
thought  that  if  atoms  were  indeed  such  struc- 
tures as  this  book  made  out— if  their  structure 
was  complicated  enough  for  them  to  have  hooks 
and  eyes— then  they  could  not  possibly  be  the 
smallest  indivisible  building  stones  of  matter. 

In  my  criticisms  I  was  supported  by  a  friend 
from  my  youth  club  with  whom  I  had  gone  on 
many  hiking  expeditions,  and  who  was  much 
more  interested  in  philosophy  than  I  was.  This 
friend,  who  had  read  some  essays  on  atomic 
theory  in  ancient  philosophy,  had  also  un- 
expectedly come  across  a  textbook  of  modern 
atomic  physics  where  he  had  seen  visual  models 
of  atoms.  This  had  led  him  to  the  firm  con- 
viction that  the  whole  of  modern  atomic  physics 
was  false  and  he  tried  to  convince  me  that  he 
was  right.  At  that  time  our  judgments  were 
obviously  very  much  rasher  and  more  dogmatic 
than  they  are  today.  I  had  to  agree  with  him 
that  these  visual  models  of  atoms  were  indeed 
false,  but  I  reserved  the  right  to  look  for  the 
mistakes  in  the  illustrators,  rather  than  in  the 
theory. 

In  any  case,  I  wanted  to  become  better  ac- 
quainted with  atomic  physics,  and  here  another 
accident  was  an  unexpected  help.  At  the  time 
we  had  just  started  reading  one  of  Plato's  dia- 
logues, but  because  of  the  troubles  in  Munich 
school  lessons  were  irregular.  Our  military  unit 
had  no  rigid  plan  of  work,  far  from  it;  the  danger 
of  lounging  about  was  very  much  greater  than 
that  of  over-exertion.  In  addition,  we  had  to 
be  prepared  to  be  called  even  at  night,  and  thus 
we  were  without  any  control  by  parents  or 
teachers. 

It  was  then  July  1919,  and  a  warm  summer. 


28 


A    SCIENTIST'S    CASE    FOR    THE    CLASSICS 


Shortly  aftei  sunrise,  I  would  often  withdraw 
onto  the  rool  ol  the  theological  seminar)  and 
lie  down  there  i<>  warm  mysell  in  the  sun,  any 

old  book  in  ni\  hand,  or  I  would  sit  on  the 
edge  ol  the  rool  and  watch  the  day  beginning 
in  the  Ludwig  Strasse. 

On  one  such  occasion,  ii  occurred  to  me  to 
take  a  volume  ol  Plato  onto  the  rool,  wanting 
to  read  something  other  than  the  assigned  sc  hool 
lessons.  With  nn  somewhat  modest  knowledge 
ol  Greek,  I  came  upon  the  dialogue  (ailed 
"Timaeus,"  where  loi  the  Inst  time  and  from 
the  original  source,  I  read  something  about 
Greek  atomic  philosophy.  This  lee  tun  made  the 
basic  thoughts  ol  atomic  theory  much  clearer 
to  me  than  the\  had  ever  been  below.  I  be- 
lieved, at  least,  thai  now  I  understood  something 
ol  the  reasons  which  had  caused  Greek  phi- 
losophy to  think  ol  these  smallest  indivisible 
building  stones  ol  matter.  True,  I  did  not  feel 
Plato's  diesis  in  "  limat  us"— that  atoms  are  reg- 
ular bodies— to  be  fully  convincing,  but  at  least 
1  was  satisfied  to  learn  that  they  did  not  have 
hooks  and  eyes.  In  any  case,  at  that  time  I  was 
becoming  convinced  that  one  could  hardly  make 
progress  in  modern  atomic  physics  withoul  a 
knowledge  of  Greek  natural  philosophy,  and  I 
thought  that  our  illustrator  ol  the  atomic  model 
would  have  done  well  to  make  a  careful  study 
ol  Plato  before  drawing  his  pictures. 

THE     TWO-HEADED     STREAM 

WITHOUT  properly  knowing  how,  I 
had  become  acquainted  with  the  great 
thought  of  Greek  natural  philosophy  which 
bridges  antiquity  with  modern  times  and  which 
only  came  to  full  fruition  at  the  time  of  the 
Renaissance.  This  trend  in  Greek  philosophy  is 
typified  by  the  atomic  theory  ol  Leucippus  and 
Democritus  and  traditionally  was  described  as 
materialism.  Historically  this  is  a  correct  de- 
scription, but  today  it  is  easily  misunderstood, 
since  the  word  "materialism"  was  given  a  very 
one-sided  meaning  in  the  nineteenth  century— 
a  meaning  which  is  by  no  means  in  accordance 
with  the  development  of  Greek  natural  phi- 
losophy. 

We  can  avoid  this  false  interpretation  of 
ancient  atomic  theory  if  we  remember  that  the 
fust  modern  investigator  to  return  to  the  atomic 
theory  in  the  seventeenth  century  was  the  theo- 
logian and  philosopher,  Gassendi,  who  surely 
did  not  use  the  theory  in  order  to  combat  Chris- 
tian dogma.  Even  for  Democritus,  atoms  were 
merely   the   letters  with  which  we  could  record 


the  events  ol  the  world,  but  not  their  content. 
In   contrast,   nineteenth  century  materialism   was 

developed   from   thoughts  ol   quite  a   differenl 

kind,  thoughts  which  are  characteristic  ol  the 
modern  age  and  which  ale  rooted  in  the  division 
ol  tin  world  into  a  material  and  a  spiritual 
reality,    originating    with    Descartes. 

We  thus  see  that  the  great  stream  of  science 
and  technology  ol  modern  times  springs  from 
two  soinces  in  the  fields  of  ancient  philosophy. 
Although  many  other  tributaries  have  flowej 
into  this  stream  and  have  helped  to  swell  its 
current,  the  origins  have  always  continued  to 
make  themselves  felt.  Because  of  this,  all  the 
sciences   can    benefit    from   classical   studies. 

GETTING    TO    THE 
BOTTOM    OF    THINGS 

TR  U  E ,  those  concerned  with  the  more 
practical  schooling  of  youth  will  assert  ; 
that  the  knowledge  of  this  spiritual  loundation 
has  little  relevance— that  we  should  rather  ac-| 
quire  the  necessities  of  modern  life:  languages, 
technical  methods,  accounting,  and  commercial 
practice.  These,  it  is  argued,  will  set  us  on  our 
feet;  a  classical  education  is  said  to  be  merely 
of  decorative  value,  a  luxury  for  those  few  who 
have  an   easier  struggle  in   life   than   most. 

Perhaps  this  is  true  lor  the  many  people  who 
want  to  do  nothing  more  in  their  later  lives 
than  to  carry  on  a  purely  practical  business. 
Those,  however,  who  find  this  goal  inadequate 
and  wish  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  things  in  what-i 
ever  vocation  they  choose— be  it  technology  or> 
medicine— are  bound  sooner  or  later  to  encounter 
the  sources  of  antiquity.  Their  own  work  will 
benefit  if  they  have  learned  from  the  Greek* 
how  to  discipline  their  thoughts  and  how  tcj 
pose  questions  of  principle.  I  believe  that  inj 
the  work  of  Max  Planck,  for  instance,  we  carl 
clearly  see  that  his  thought  was  influenced  anc 
made  fruitful  by  his  classical  schooling. 

Another  personal   experience  which   occurrec 
three    years    after    I    had    left    school    seems,    in 
retrospect,  to  be  illuminating.    While  a  studen 
at  the  University  of  Gottingen,  I  discussed  witl 
a  friend  the  problem  of  the  atomic  model  whicl  j 
I  had  found  disturbing  even  while  still  in  higl" 
school.    This   question   was   obviously   the   basil 
of  the  puzzling  phenomena  of  spectroscopy  whicl 
were    still    unsolved    at    the    time.    This    fried 
defended    perceptual    models,    and    he    believei 
that  all  that  was  needed  was  to  persuade  moderi 
technology    to    construct    a    microscope    with 
very  great  resolving  power,  for  instance  one  enj * 


BY    WERNER  HEISENBERG 


29 


ploying  gamma  rays  instead  of  ordinary  light. 
Then  we  should  be  able  to  see  the  structure 
of  the  atom,  and  my  objections  to  perceptual 
models   would    finally    be    answered. 

This  argument  disquieted  me  deeply.  I  was 
afraid  that  this  imaginary  microscope  might 
well  reveal  the  hooks  and  eyes  of  my  physics 
textbook,  and  once  again  I  had  to  resolve  the 
apparent  contradiction  between  this  proposed 
experiment  and  the  basic  conceptions  of  Greek 
philosophy.  Here  the  education  in  disciplined 
thought  which  we  had  received  at  school  was  to 
help  me  a  great  deal;  because  of  it  I  would  not 
accept  would-be  solutions. 

In  contemporary  discussion  about  the  value 
of  a  classical  education,  one  can  no  longer  main- 
tain that  the  relationship  between  natural  phi- 
losophy and  modern  atomic  physics  is  a  unique 
or  special  case.  For  even  if  we  rarely  meet  such 
questions  of  principle  in  technology  or  science, 
or  medicine,  these  disciplines  are  basically  con- 
nected with  atomic  physics.  Thus,  in  the  final 
analysis,  they  lead  to  similar  questions  of  prin- 
ciple. The  structure  of  chemistry  is  built  up 
on  the  basis  of  atomic  physics.  Modern  astron- 
omy is  connected  with  it  most  closely,  and 
can  hardly  make  progress  without  it.  Even  in 
biology,  many  bridges  are  being  built  toward 
atomic  physics.  The  connections  between  the 
different  branches  of  science  have  become  much 
more  obvious  in  the  last  decades  than  they  have 
at  any  previous  time.  There  are  many  signs 
of  their  common  origins— which,  in  the  final 
analysis,  must  be  sought  somewhere  in  the 
thought  of  antiquity. 

FAITH     IN     THE     WEST 

WITH  this  conclusion  I  have  almost 
returned  to  my  point  of  departure.  At 
the  origins  of  all  Western  culture  there  is  this 
close  connection  between  our  way  of  posing 
questions  of  principle  and  practical  action,  and 
this  we  owe  to  the  Greeks.  Even  today  the  whole 
force  of  our  culture  rests  on  this  connection. 
From  it  springs  all  our  progress,  and  in  this  sense 
a  declaration  of  faith  in  classical  education  is 
an  avowal  for  the  West  and  for  its  culture. 

However,  do  we  still  have  a  right  to  this 
faith  when  the  West  has  lost  so  terribly  in 
power  and  prestige  in  the  last  decades?  Our 
answer  is  that  all  this  does  not  involve  ques- 
tions of  right,  but  of  our  will.  For  the  activity 
of  the  West  does  not  stem  from  theoretical  in- 
sights—our ancestors  did  not  base  their  actions 
on  theories— but  from  quite  a  different  origin. 


What  is  and  always  has  been  our  mainspring 
is  faith.  By  faith  I  do  not  only  mean  the  Chris- 
tian faith  in  a  God-given,  meaningful  frame- 
work of  the  world,  but  simply  faith  in  our  task 
in  this  world.  Here,  faith  obviously  does  not 
mean  that  we  hold  this  or  that  to  be  true.  To 
have  faith  always  means:  I  decide  to  do  it,  I 
stake  my  existence  on  it.  When  Columbus 
started  on  his  first  voyage  into  the  West,  he 
believed  that  the  earth  was  round  and  small 
enough  to  be  circumnavigated.  He  did  not 
merely  think  that  this  was  right  in  theory— he 
staked  his  whole  existence  on  it. 

In  a  recent  discussion  of  this  aspect  of  Euro- 
pean history  Freyer  has  rightly  referred  to  the 
old  saying:  "Credo  ut  intelligam" '—"I  believe 
in  order  that  I  may  understand."  In  applying 
this  idea  to  the  voyages  of  discovery,  Freyer 
introduced  an  intermediate  term:  "Credo  ut 
agam;  ago  ut  intellegam' '—"I  believe  in  order 
that  I  may  act;  I  act  in  order  that  I  may  under- 
stand." This  saying  is  relevant  not  only  to  the 
first  great  voyages,  but  to  the  whole  of  Western 
science,  and  to  the  whole  mission  of  the  West. 
It  includes  both  classical  education  and  science. 

And  there  is  no  need  to  be  over-modest.  One 
half  of  the  modern  world,  the  West,  has  gained 
immeasurable  power  by  applying  in  an  un- 
precedented way  the  Western  idea  of  controlling 
and  exploiting  natural  resources  through  science. 
The  other  half  of  the  world,  the  East,  is  held 
together  by  its  faith  in  the  theses  of  Marx— 
a  European  philosopher  and  political  economist. 
Nobody  knows  what  the  future  will  hold  and 
what  spiritual  forces  will  govern  the  world,  but 
our  first  step  is  always  an  act  of  faith  in  some- 
thing and  a  wish  for  something. 

We  hope  that  spiritual  life  will  blossom  here 
once  again,  that  here  in  Europe  ideas  will  con- 
tinue to  grow  and  shape  the  face  of  the  world. 
We  stake  our  existence  on  this;  and  as  we 
remember  our  origins,  and  recover  the  way  to 
a  harmonious  interplay  of  forces  in  our  part  of 
the  world,  so  will  the  external  conditions  of 
European  life  be  happier  than  they  have  been 
these  last  fifty  years.  We  hope  that  despite  all 
outer  confusion,  our  youth  will  grow  up  in  the 
spiritual  climate  of  the  West,  so  that  it  may 
touch  the  sources  of  power  which  have  sustained 
our  continent  for  more  than  two  thousand  years. 
Let  us  not  worry  about  the  detailed  ways  in 
which  this  might  be  brought  about.  No  mat- 
ter whether  we  prefer  a  classical  or  a  scientific 
education,  what  does  matter  above  all  is  our 
supreme  and  abiding  faith  in  the  West. 

—  Translated  by  Arnold  J.  Pomerans 


Harper's  Magazine,  May  795,S' 


How  Frank  Lloyd  Wright 
Got  His  Medal 


By   ALFRED   BENDINER 

Drawings  by  the  Author 

He  behaved  rather  like  Moses  with  a  quart  of 

skimmed  milk  and  an  aggressive  gall  bladder — 

the  occupational  disease  of  great 

architects — but  be  did  put  on  a  show 

as  spectacular  as  any  of  his  buildings. 

A  FEW  years  ago,  when  I  was  president  of 
the  Philadelphia  Chapter  of  the  American 
Institute  of  Architects,  a  gentleman  (who  shall 
be  nameless  but  whom  we  shall  call  Oskar 
Stonorov)  called  me  one  day.  He  said  he  was 
preparing  for  the  International  Exhibition  of 
Frank  Lloyd  Wright's  architecture,  which  was 
going  to  open  its  tour  on  the  eighth  floor  of 
Gimbel  Brothers  department  store.  If  I  could  get 
the  Philadelphia  Chapter  to  give  Wright  its  gold 
medal,  he,  Stonorov,  would  get  Wright  to  come 
to  lunch  and  receive  it. 

I  got  the  executive  committee,  and  we  voted 
the  medal,  and  I  (ailed  Stonorov  to  say  that 
now  he  should  produce  Wright. 

Stonorov  said  to  write  a  note  to  the  master 
and  explain.  I  got  a  letter  from  F.L.W.  saying, 
"I  will  come  if  1  can."  That  was  the  onlv  indica- 


tion I  had  that  His  Majesty  would  appear,  but 
we  got  the  medal  (ast  and  had  it  engraved.  As 
the  time  for  the  opening  approached,  and  still 
no  wind.  I  (ailed  Oskar  again  and  said,  "What 
moveth?"  H<  s.iid  that  he  would  be  in  Taliesin, 
the  Wright  headquarters  in  Wisconsin,  the  fol- 
lowing week  and  would  find  out. 

About  two  days  before  the  Gimbel  opening, 
Stonorov  called,  said  he  had  spoken  to  F.L.W. 
and  he  had  indicated  that  he  might  attend.  I  set- 
up a  luncheon  for  the  Chapter  to  take  place 
the  day  after  the  opening,  and  before  I  realized 
it  I  was  embroiled  in  a  small  war  trying  to  ar- 
range to  feed  five  hundred  draftsmen,  art  lovers, 
and  Wright  acolytes.  Arthur  Kaufman,  head  of 
Gimbels',  said  he  had  no  notion  whether  Wright 
was  going  to  stay  overnight  alter  the  opening, 
but  he  moved  our  luncheon  from  the  main 
dining-room  to  the  auditorium.  On  the  day  he- 
fore  the  opening,  we  were  set  for  five  hundred 
people,  and  I  hadn't  heard  from  F.L.W. 

For  the  opening  of  the  exhibition,  Gimbel 
Brothers  had  invited  still  another  list  of  guests, 
of  course— about  six  hundred  distinguished 
Philadelphians,  all  the  wheels  in  architecture, 
the  diplomatic  corps,  the  press,  the  Gimbel 
family,  and  the  arts.  The  gathering  was  divided 
into  two  groups:  the  elite  were  to  be  received 
by  Wright  in  a  small  cocktail  room  and  hoi 
polloi  were  to  have  cocktails  in  a  minor  con- 
vention hall  down   the  tracks. 

The  room  in  which  we  were  cloistered  was 
loaded    with    flash-bulb   boys,    Gimbels'    number 


I 


BY    ALFRED    BENDINER 


31 


one  white  carnation  floorwalkers,  and  the  select. 
The  small  room  was  crowded  and  we  drank  and 
waited. 

There  was  a  flourish  of  the  drums,  the  yellow 
doors  were  opened,  and  in  walked  Frank  Lloyd 
Wright. 

He  was  appropriately  dressed  for  the  occasion 
and  his  eyes  gleamed.  His  white  mane  had  an 
incandescent  blue  tinge.  He  wore  a  dark  suit, 
a  high  Dr.  Munyon  shiny  collar,  and  wound 
around  his  neck  was  a  white  wool  scarf  which 
trailed  in  back  of  him  like  the  last  act  of 
Eleonora  Duse.  Hanging  from  his  neck  on  a 
wide  blue  ribbon  was  a  shiny  gold  medal  as 
large  as  a  soup   plate. 

Wright  stood  and  waited  for  the  moment.  The 
spotlight  hit  the  medal  brassily,  the  photogra- 
phers shot  off  their  fireworks,  a  hush  came  over 
the  waiters,  and  Wright  started  around  the  room 
and  shook  hands  with  the  guests.  As  I  was  pre- 
sented to  him,  he  said,  "Bendiner,  I'll  see  you 
at  lunch  tomorrow." 

Following  after  him  was  Mrs.  Wright,  who 
looked  like  one  of  those  little  Indian  dolls  which 
you  buy  when  the  train  stops  at  Albuquerque. 
She  was  dressed  in  a  saffron  sari. 

"Mrs.  Wright,"  I  said,  "I  am  very  sorry  that  I 
did  not  know  you  were  coming,  but  will  you 
please  come  to  the  luncheon  for  Mr.  Wright 
tomorrow?" 

Mrs.  Wright  answered  in  a  broad  Taliesin- 
West  Montenegrin: 

"No,  I  will  not  come  tomorrow  to  lunch,  but 
you  will  please  come  to  my  room  in  the  Hotel 
Warveek  at  10:00  a.m.  and  I  will  give  you  Mr. 
Wright's  luncheon  menu." 

With  these  instructions  off  her  little  chest  she 
shook  hands  and  followed  in  the  master's,  foot- 
steps. 


A     LITTLE 
MIDWESTERN    BOY 

WE  DRANK  martinis  and  the  Wrights 
drank  tomato  juice.  Finally,  a  beflow- 
ered  youth  stood  up  and  said  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Wright  would  now  withdraw.  The  Master  of 
Ceremonies  returned  after  they  left  and  we  were 
asked  to  follow  him.  We  crossed  the  eighth  floor 
of  Gimbels'  with  all  the  sales  tables  shrouded  in 
blue  and  white  checkered  muslin,  and  entered 
the  auditorium.  Seated  at  one  long  raised 
speakers'  table  were  men,  nothing  but  men,  and 
in  front  of  us,  a  sea  of  Philadelphians  in  their 
green  suits  airing  their  flat  nasal  voices,  and  with 
them  our  lovely  wives  looking  lonely. 


Finally,  came  the  terrapin  soup,  steak  with 
mushrooms,  ice  cream  with  petit  fours,  and  cof- 
fee; then  cigars  were  passed,  and  Mr.  Arthur 
Kaufman  rose  and  came  to  the  microphone  and 
read  telegrams  from  every  Gimbel  and  seemingly 
from  everybody  else.  Wright  slipped  out  and 
we  held  our  breaths  hoping  that  he  would  re- 
turn. Kaufman  finally  dropped  the  last  yellow 
sheet  and  looked  around  to  see  his  guest's  chair 
empty,  so  he  introduced  the  toastmaster  of  the 
evening,  Mr.  George  Howe.  Howe  rose  and  de- 
livered an  oration  to  the  absent  Frank  Lloyd 
Wright,  his  contribution  to  architecture,  to  civi- 
lization, to  modernism,  to  the  soul.  Finally, 
Wright  came  back  and  sat  down.  Then  Howe 
introduced  the  representative  from  the  Depart- 
ment of  State,  who  thanked  Wright  for  being  an 
architect  so  that  his  work  could  be  shipped 
abroad  to  show  the  world  the  great  cultural 
values  of  America. 

Then  Howe  introduced  the  Italian  ambassa- 
dor, who  thanked  Wright  for  first  sending  the 
exhibition  to  the  Strozzi  Palace  in  Florence 
where  all  the  cultured  of  Italy  would  welcome 
it  as  a  masterly  achievement.  Howe  then  in- 
troduced Fritz  Gutheim,  representing  the  Ameri- 


32 


H  O  W     I  RANK    LLOYD    WRIGHT    GOT    HIS    MEDAL 


can  Institute  of  Architects,  and  he,  with  dosed 
eyes  and  great  reverence,  proceeded  to  spill 
charm  all  over  the  microphone.  Then  Howe 
introduced  Stonorov,  who  praised  the  great  mas- 
ter as  exemplified  l>\  a  Greek  statue  in  the 
i  xhiliit. 

Wright  again  rose  and  went  to  the  men's  room, 
and  Howe  presented  some  minor  luminaries, 
who  filled  in.  Wright  returned  and  Kaufman 
got  up  and  said  that  Wright  was  a  great  lover 
of  music  and  they  had  brought  a  string  quartet 
to  play  lor  him. 

They  wheeled  in  the  string  quartet  on  a  float 
and  the  quartet  played  the  second  movement  ol 
the  Brahms  Fifth.  In  the  darkness  a  lot  ol  peo- 
ple slipped  out. 

The  quartet  finished.  It  was  eleven  o'clock, 
the  lights  went  up.  George  Howe  looked  to  see 
il  Wright  was  still  there,  and  introduced  Mr. 
Frank  Novel  Wright,  the  guest  of  the  evening. 

Wright  arose  and  said  he  was  nothing  but  a 
little  Middle  Western  boy  who  had  tried  to  make 
Americans  proud  of  their  heritage,  and  he  had 
tried  to  create  an  architecture  which  was  typi- 
<all\  American,  and  all  he  could  say  was,  "Thank 
you  one  and  all  and  come  now  and  let  us  see 
the  exhibition  ol  my  work."  On  that  short  note 
he  gave  a  weak  midnight  wave,  turned  and 
walked  off  the  platform.   The  evening  was  over. 

We  crowded  around  the  master  and  shook 
hands  and  F  said  I  would  see  him  tomorrow. 
The  gleam  had  worn  oil  and  the  smoke  had  tar- 
nished the  medal  a  little,  but  the  old  fellow 
was  holding  up  pretty  well  and  showing  all  the 
girls  around  his  exhibit  and  posturing  before  his 
drawings. 

DIRECTLY     OVER     THE     FIRE 

AL  L  night  I  tried  to  decide  how  I  could  get 
Wright  to  talk  to  the  architects  at  lunch- 
eon. I  sensed  that  he  was  displeased  with  the 
opening  reception  and  would  probably  sulk,  if 
he  appeared  at  all. 

Long  ago,  my  father  taught  me  that  a  lady 
should  always  be  greeted  with  flowers,  so  I  trailed 
around  Philadelphia  at  tune  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing and  finally  found  a  little  bunch  of  sweetheart 
roses.  At  ten  I  was  knocking  on  the  door  of  the 
Wrights'  suite  in  the  Warwick  Hotel. 

The  apartment  looked  like  the  morning  after 
of  any  other  couple.  Mrs.  Wright  was  dressed, 
hastily,  and  thanked  me  for  my  flowers,  which 
she  stuck  into  a  half-empty  glass  of  water  on  the 
disheveled  breakfast  table.  On  the  hall  table 
was  last  night's  oversized  old-fashioned  bouquet, 


yellowed  from  lack  of  moisture.  There  were 
newspapers  on  the-  Moor,  open  to  the  F.I.AV. 
Story,  the  remains  of  breakfast  on  the  table,  an 
overgenerous  Gimbel  basket  of  wilting  flowers 
with  a  gold  Welcome  ribbon  strung  across  it, 
and  a  general  ait  ol  unvenlilaled  morning.  Frank 
Lloyd  Wright   was  absent. 

Mis.  Wright  sat  and  asked  me  what  kind  ol  a 
name  Bendinea  was,  and  I  said  I  was  descended! 
from  a  long  line  ol  Hungarian  parents.  She 
brightened  and  said  she  was  a  Montenegrin  and 
they  liked  Hungarians  because  they  knew  a 
pianist  in  Hollywood  who  was  sad. 

This  was  a  good  omen  and  Mis.  Wright  said. 
"And  now.  Mr.  Bendiner,  you  will  please  write 
down  everything  I  am  saving,  because  when  Mr. 
Wright  is  leaving  this  room,  his  life  is  in  youi 
hands.' 

"All  right.  Mis.  Wright,"  said  I,  "and  I  am 
appreciative  ol  the  great  honor  and  the  great 
responsibility." 

"First  the  menu,"  said  Mrs.  Wright.  "One 
piece  whitefish,  and  this  is  to  be  cooked  not  in 
the  fire  or  on  the  fire  or  under  the  fire,  but 
directly  over  the  fire,  dry  without  any  butter  or 
sauces  or  mishmash.  Then  maybe  one  baked 
potato  but  absolutely  dry  with  no  butter,  and  a 
little  fresh  peas,  and  then  maybe  a  little  rasp* 
berry  Jello,  and  maybe  a  little  coffee,  and  then 
you  will  go  and  buy  one  quart  skimmed  milk, 
Grade  A,  and  bring  il  back  and  show  this  to  me, 
so  I  afti  sure." 

I  wrote  all  this  clown  and  then  I  said,  "Mrs. 
Wright,  what's  the  matter  with  Mr.  Wright,  has 
he  gall-bladder  trouble?'' 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Wright,  "and  how  are 
you  knowing  this?" 

"Well,"  I  said,  "lor  goodness'  sake,  is  he  just 
getting  gall-bladder  trouble  now  at  eighty,  Lady, 
the  man  is  a  genius." 

Mrs.  Wright  said,  "How  do  you  know?" 

"Why,  Mrs.  Wright,  I  have  gall-bladder  trou- 
ble; every  architect  worthy  of  a  name  has  gall- 
bladder trouble  one  day  after  he  matriculates  in 
the  architectural  school.  It  is  an  occupatieinal 
disease,  and  it  Mr.  Wright  is  just  getting  gall- 
bladder trouble  now  it  only  proves  what  a  great 
man  he  is." 

"Well,"  says  Mrs.  Wright,  "is  very  interesting, 
very  interesting,  and  tell  me  please,  what  is  ex- 
actly happening  when  you  are  getting  one  of 
these  gall-bladder   attacks." 

"Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Mrs.  W.,"  I  said, 
"when  a  client  is  calling  me  up  and  saying  that 
her  brand-new  roof  is  leaking  all  over  the  baby 
or  when  somcboclv  savs  I  do  not  know  what  I  am 


BY    ALFRED    BENDINER 


33 


doing,  I  go  home  and  get  sore  at  my  wife  and 
martinis  don't  taste  right.  I  swear  off  smoking, 
and  feel  generally  awful,  and  then  suddenly  I 
say,  'Aw,  the  hell  with  it,'  and  everything  clears 
and  I  make  up  with  my  wife,  drink,  smoke,  feel 
fine,  and  the  roof  gets  fixed  somehow.  But  the 
doctors,  depending  on  who  you  go  to,  say  it  is 
an  overactive  gall  bladder,  a  psychosomatic  nerv- 
ous upset,  a  trade  psychosis,  or  just  a  plain  old- 
fashioned  stomach  ache  and  try  a  bland  diet  for 
a  while." 

Mrs.  Wright  said,  "Young  man,  this  is  exactly 
what  is  happening  to  Mr.  Wright  and  please 
waiting  one  minute."  So  Mrs.  W.  got  up  and 
went  into  the  private  bedroom  and  closed  the 
door. 

A    BURSTING 

OF    PENT-UP     EMOTIONS 

FINALLY  the  door  opened  and  in  came 
Frank  Lloyd  Wright  himself,  in  an  old 
Japanese  dressing  gown  and  a  pair  of  slippers, 
and  he  said,  "Good  morning,  Bendiner,"  and 
sat  down. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Wright,"  said  I,  "and  I 
am  sorry  they  gave  you  such  a  bad  time  last 
night." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  he,  "not  at  all.  I  enjoyed 
it  to  the  fullest  but,  after  all,  eleven  o'clock  was 
pretty  late  for  speaking,  and  also  the  second 
movement  of  the  Brahms  Fourth,  and  I  couldn't 
say  more.  Mr.  Kaufman  called  me  at  eight 
o'clock  this  morning  to  find  out  why  I  did  not 
speak  longer,  but  I  told  him  I  was  too  touched, 
too  touched." 

I  said,  "Mr.  Wright,  I  hope  you  are  going  to 
say  more  than  a  few  words  to  the  boys  this  after- 
noon because  I  have  five  hundred  architects, 
draftsmen,  and  general  adorers  waiting  to  hang 
on  your  every  word,  but  now  I  must  leave  and 
get  you  a  whitefish  for  your  luncheon." 

"Just  a  moment,  Bendiner,  just  a  moment," 
said  F.L.W.  "I  understand  that  you  have  gall- 
bladder trouble.  And  tell  me,  Bendiner,  how 
does  an  attack  affect  you?" 

"Well,  Mr.  Wright,"  I  said,  "I  just  described 
my  symptoms  to  Mrs.  Wright  and  I  will  explain 
them  to  you." 

1  did,  and  Wright  sat  and  listened  in  conrplete 
quiet  and  when  I  finished  he  rose  and  said  to 
his  wife,  "You  see,  Natasha,  it  is  as  I  said. 
Bendiner  and  I  are  artists  and  this  is  nothing 
but  an  outpouring  of  resentment,  a  bursting  of 
pent-up  emotions,  it  is  from  the  liver.  The 
Greeks  always  said  the  seat  of  the  emotions  is  the 


liver,"  said  he,  pointing  to  his  kidney.  "I  am 
sure,  Bendiner,  that  we  suffer  the  suffering  of 
true  artists." 

"But,"  said  Natasha,  "will  you  please  tell  Mr. 
Bendiner  that  all  night  you  have  been  up 
suffering." 

"Enough  of  this  worry,"  said  Wright.  "Tell 
me,  Bendiner,  who  is  the  great  spirit  in  Phil- 
adelphia since  Cret  died?  Who  is  practicing 
here?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Wright,"  I  said,  "I  am  practicing 
here  and  George  Howe  and  Stonorov  and  Harbe- 
son,  Hough  Livingston  and  Larson,  and  maybe 
a  couple  of  others." 

"Ah,  George  Howe  and  Stonorov,  of  course." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "Mr.  Wright,  tell  me  some- 
thing. In  architecture  you  are  affectionately 
known  as  the  illegitimate  son  of  the  great  Sul- 
livan, and  Sullivan  as  the  illegitimate  son  of  the 
great  architect  Furness,  and  did  Sullivan  ever 
tell  you  about  the  time  he  worked  for  Furness? 
Because  Furness  had  an  office  at  Third  and  Wal- 
nut Streets,  and  if  Sullivan  had  sat  on  the  win- 
dow sill  and  looked  across  he  couldn't  miss 
seeing  all  the  details  on  the  Jayne  Patent  Medi- 
cine Building— which  looks  awful  close  to  some 
of  the  earlier  Sullivan  achievements." 


h/\    WsaAmwia-' 


"No,  no,  son,"  said  F.L.W.  "Sullivan  never 
worked  here.  I  don't  think  Sullivan  ever  worked 
in  Philadelphia." 

"Why,  Mr.  Wright,"  I  said,  "Sullivan  mentions 
working  here  in  one  of  his  books.  I  think  it  is 
Kindergarten  Chats." 

"Well,  maybe  so,"  said  F.L.W.,  the  biographer 
of  Sullivan,  "I  wouldn't  know.  I  never  read  one 
of  Sullivan's  books.  The  old  man  told  me  all 
about  himself,  but  now  I  do  remember  him  tell- 
ing me  that  Furness  once  told  him  that  his  great 
ambition  in  life  was  to  get  all  his  clients  together 
in  the  Academy  of  Music  and  then  when  they 
were  all  seated,  Furness  would  come  out  on  the 
stage  and  tell  them  all  to  go  to  hell." 


Library  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania   built   by   Frank   harness 


"Mr.  Wright,"  I  said,  "you  must  excuse  me 
now.  Mrs.  Wrighl  tells  me  that  a  doctor  is  com- 
ing and  you  should  rest.  You  have  been  up  all 
night  and  you  will  have  to  speak  and  I  must  get 
you  an  order  ol  skimmed  milk  and  some  white- 
fish  for  your  lun<  heon." 

A     COUPLE     OF     VISITORS 
TO     SEE     THE     SIGHTS 

IW  E  N  T  out  and  got  a  quart  ol  skimmed 
milk,  Grade  A,  and  (ailed  my  secretary. 

"Look,  darling."  1  said,  "the  Great  White 
Father's  lunch,  one  piece  ol  white-fish,  not  in 
the  fire,  under  the  fire,  over  the  fire,  or  through 
the  fire,  a  baked  potato,  some  raspberry  fcllo, 
and  coffee,  black.  I  am  bringing  the  skimmed 
milk." 

The  girl  said,  "What's  the  matter?  God  got 
a  gall  bladder?" 

When  1  returned  to  the  hotel  Mrs.  Wright 
looked  charmingly  Montenegrin.  The  apartment 
had  been  cleared  of  breakfast.  The  Gimbel 
flowers  were  brown  and  the  ribbon  read: 

W     L  C     ME. 

The  doctor  came  out,  gave  me  a  glazed  pro- 
fessional look,  and  said,  "Bendiner,  are  you  a 
doctor?" 

"No  sir,"  1  said,  "I  got  enough  troubles  being 
an  architect." 

"I  understand  you  have  gall-bladder  trouble," 


said  the  doctor,  "and  after  this  stop  practicing 
medic  ine  on  my  patient." 

Wright  came  out  ol  his  room  and  pushed  back 
his  mane  and  said,  "Darling,  1  am  feeling  fine. 
And  now,  1  must  go.  Bendiner  and  1  understand, 
I  must  have  been  unduly  emotional  last  night 
and   had   a   slight  reac  tion." 

He  went  to  a  hall  closet  and  took  out  a  solid 
black  pork-pie  hat  and  adjusted  it  squarely  on 
his  head;  he  took  the  eight-foot  woolen  scarf 
and  twirled  it  around  his  neck  a  couple  of  times 
and  looked  at  himself  in  the  mirror.  I  reached 
lor  his  overcoat  to  help  him.  The  overcoat  was 
black,  featherweight  cashmere,  f  helped  him 
into  it. 

"Mr.  Wright,"  I  said,  "you  have  been  telling 
me  what  a  struggle  you  had  in  life  and  how 
broke  you  were.  This  coat  is  certainly  not  proof 
ol  such  rigorous  hardship." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Wright,  "I  just  got  that  coat 
last  night.  I  saw  it  on  one  of  the  stands  in  Gim- 
bel Brothers  and  Arthur  Kaufman  took  it  oif  the 
rack  and  gave  it  to  me." 

As  we  left,  Mrs.  Wright  told  me  again  that  the 
master's  life  was  in  my  hands,  f  assured  her  that 
I  would  wrap  the  genius  in  cotton  and  return 
him  safely.  In  the  elevator,  Wright  took  his  hat 
oil  and  looked  at  himself  in  three  mirrors  and 
then  walked  like  a  lion  through  the  lobby.  We 
got  a  cab,  and  the  driver  took  his  cigar  out  and 
said,  "You  boys  a  couple  of  visitors  to  see  the 
sights?" 


BY    ALFRED    BENDINER 


35 


I  said,  "No,  driver,  to  Gimbel  Brothers  Store 
by  way  of  Rittenhouse  Square  and  the  Univer- 
sity of  Pennsylvania  Library,  and  please  say  no 
more.  This  gentleman  and  I  have  serious  matters 
to  discuss." 

As  we  turned  to  the  green  oasis  in  the  city  and 
were  halted  by  the  heavy  traffic,  Wright  started 
to  harangue  about  the  obsolescence  of  cities  and 
the  joys  of  fresh  air  and  life  in  the  open  when 
suddenly  he  said: 

"Seven-Up,  ah,  Seven-Up."  There  was  a  Seven- 
Up  truck  and  Wright  beamed  and  said,  "Bendi- 
ner,  do  you  drink  Seven-Up?  I  am  taking  a  case 
of  it  back  to  Taliesin  West.  Greatest  invention 
since  Alka-Seltzer.  Wonderful  for  the  gall  blad- 
der. Clears  the  system  and  the  head.  I  recom- 
mend it  highly." 

"Mr.  Wright,"  I  said,  "I  hope  you're  going  to 
say  more  than  a  few  words  to  the  boys." 

Wright  said,   "Bendiner,  I  am  happy.    I  am 


very  happy.  Your  chapter  is  the  first  to  honor 
me  with  a  medal,  and  I  have  received  many 
medals  from  the  AIA  and  the  Royal  Societies 
and  the  crowned  heads.  This  is  the  first  time  I 
have  been  honored  by  the  boys  and  I  will  speak 
to  the  boys."   I  sat  back  and  listened. 

"You  know,  Bendiner,  the  thing  which  dis- 
turbed me  about  last  night  was  the  smoking. 
The  cigars  passed  at  the  end  of  the  meal.  I  am 
an  old,  old  man,  Bendiner  and  the  sight  of  a 
sea  of  faces  puffing  and  blowing  smoke  into  my 
face  was  too  much.  It  is  a  form  of  self-indulgence. 
It  is  for  sailors  and  street-walkers." 

When  Wright  and  I  entered  the  giant  audi- 
torium seven  hundred  people  rose  and  gave 
Wright  a  big  hand.  My  secretary  gave  him  a  big 
hug  and  relieved  me  of  a  quart  of  milk.  Wright 
raised  his  hands  like  Moses  and  motioned  every- 
body to  sit  down.  He  waited  and  as  soon  as 
everybody  was  seated,  we  marched  down  the  aisle 
to  the  stage  where  they  had  set  up  a  long  table 
with  all  my  AIA  board  and  the  executive  com- 
mittee of  Gimbels'.  Just  as  we  were  about  to  go 
up  the  steps  a  bearded  young  man  in  a  dirty  suit 


and  sandals  came  up,  knelt  before  Wright,  and 
kissed  his  hand.  I  suddenly  remembered  that  I 
had  gotten  a  telegram  asking  the  privilege  of 
coming  and  seeing  the  Great  Master  make  his 
triumphant  entry  into  the  Cradle  of  Liberty  but 
I  thought  it  was  a  gag.  Wright  looked  around 
very  pleased  and  patted  him  on  the  head.  At 
the  table  sixteen  photographers  flashed  away  and 
Wright  took  a  serious  attitude  and  some  of  the 
boys  said,   "Say  something  funny,   Bendiner." 

I  said,  "Frank,  how's  your  gall  bladder?"  and 
he  said,  "Okay,  Al,  okay,"  and  we  were  off  to  a 
happy  start.  The  whitefish  was  right  and  so  were 
the  baked  potato,  the  coffee,  the  skimmed  milk, 
and  the  Jello.  Wright  talked  to  everybody. 
Stonorov  hung  on  his  words  and  Arthur  Kauf- 
man counted  the  house.  I  got  up  to  present  Mr. 
Wright  with  his  medal  and  said  this  was  a 
memorable  day  and  why. 

Wright  rose  and  spoke. 

WHAT     WILL     YOU     HAVE,     LADY? 

HE  SAID  that  the  present  Administration 
should  be  hung  from  lamp  posts  sixty 
cubits  high.  He  ranted  about  our  lack  of  grace 
and  poise  and  appreciation  of  our  heritage  and 
culture.  He  proclaimed  that  the  Japanese  were 
the  only  civilized  race  and  mourned  that  we  had 
sadly  decimated  them.  In  general  he  was  behav- 
ing like  the  expected  Frank  Lloyd  Wright.  Sud- 
denly he  stopped  and  said: 

"Ladies  and  Gentlemen,  that  is  a  fine  un- 
gracious way  to  receive  this  award  from  your 
chapter  and  the  least  I  can  do  now  is  to  accept 
your  medal  and  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart.  You  are  the  first  chapter  to  honor  me 
and  I  accept  your  honor  with  the  greatest 
humility." 

I  rose  again  and  gave  him  his  medal,  and  he 
looked  at  it  and  said  it  was  beautiful  and  then 
he  handed  it  back  to  me  and  said,  "I  am  very 
proud  of  this  medal,  Bendiner,  and  I  wish  you 
would  take  it  and  have  a  broad  red,  white,  and 
blue  ribbon  affixed  to  it  so  I  can  wear  it  proudly." 

The  luncheon  broke  up  and  everybody 
cheered.  We  walked  around  the  exhibit  with 
Wright  and  he  shook  hands  with  everybody. 
Finally  he  veered  to  the  elevator,  and  as  he 
stood  there  he  was  looking  up  at  a  big  blow-up 
of  himself  standing  over  his  drawing  board  and 
looking  out  across  Gimbel  Brothers.  And  I  heard 
him  say, 

"See,  there  am  I  and  I  am  saying  to  the  cus- 
tomer, 'What  will  you  have,  lady,  Colonial, 
Italian  Renaissance,  or  Mod-ren?'  " 


Harper's  Magaz.ine,  May  1958 


By    RICHARD   B.   McADOO 
Drawings  by  Burt  Goldbhttt 


THE  GUNS  f 

ATFALAISE  GAP 


A  firsthand  account  of  one  of  the  most  crushing — 
and  least  known — American  victories  of  World  War  II 


DURING  our  first  weeks  of  combat 
duly,  the  letters  filing  through  lor  censor- 
ship were  peppered  with  advice  to  the  folks 
back  home  that  "war  is  hell."  This  solemn 
observation,  tinged  with  self-pity,  was  largely 
imaginary;  we  had  seen  no  serious  shooting  at 
all.  True,  we  saw  some  towns  reduced  to  rubble, 
and  an  occasional  stiff-legged  cow  by  the  road- 
side—but our  personal  introduction  to  combat 
suggested  that  war,  when  it  wasn't  boring,  was 
a  kind  of  carnival. 

We  had  got  olt  to  a  false  start  as  soon  as  we 
pushed  away  from  the  coast  of  England.  While 
each  man  wondered  in  his  soul  how  he  would 
measure  up  in  the  face  of  fear,  the  convoy  got 
stuck  in  the  middle  of  the  Channel  for  three 
days  by  a  log  that  muffled  the  LSTs  like  cotton. 
When  we  eventually  did  grope  ashore  on  the 
Normandy  beaches,  we  were  met  by  orders  to 
pitch  camp  and  pursue  vigorously  the  same  old 
training  program  which  the  battalion  had  been 
rehearsing  for  the  past  four  years.  In  our  new 
encampment,  even  in  the  dead  of  night,  we 
could  not  detect  a  sound  of  battle. 

The  989th  Field  Artillery  Battalion  was  an 
obscure  cog  in  the  military  machine.  Classified 
as  heav)  artillery,  it  was  equipped  with  155mm 
guns— or    Long    Toms— which    weighed     fifteen 


tons  apiece  and  were  towed  by  eighteen-ton 
tractors.  It  was  generally  said  in  the  Army  that 
155mm  gun  outfits  recruited  strong  backs  and 
weak  minds.  The  Long  Toms,  which  could  hurl 
a  shell  over  fourteen  miles,  rolled  along  on  ten 
wheels,  each  as  high  as  a  man's  chest.  To  lower 
the  gun  carriages  into  firing  position  was  a 
minor  leat  ol  engineering;  but  when  the  ground 
soitened  up  from  a  rain  or  thaw,  the  guns  sank 
down  and,  like  stranded  whales,  defied  the 
straining  of  chains  and  tractors  to  pull  them  free. 

The  hard  tore  of  the  battalion's  five  hundred 
enlisted  men  and  twenty-seven  officers  had  come 
into  service  through  the  Indiana  National 
Guard.  They  talked  with  the  easy,  slurring 
speech  of  Hoosier  towns— Bloomington,  Madi- 
son, Marion,  Logansport,  Muncie,  Elwood,  Ko- 
komo.  Those  who  had  worked  on  farms,  or  in 
garages  and  steel  mills  of  the  larger  cities,  could 
handle  the  huge  equipment  with  a  finesse  that 
was  beautiful  to  watch.  The  rest  of  us  had 
filtered  in  from  different  sections  of  the  country 
as  the  battalion  was  being  readied  to  go  overseas. 
We  all  were  bound  together  by  the  fact  that  this 
was  a  strictly  civilian  outfit. 

The  battalion  commander,  Colonel  Bruce,  was 
a  tall,  graying  Tennesseean  who  had  been  a 
shavetail  lieutenant  in  World  War  I  and  still 
bore   a    faintly    romantic    attitude    toward    war. 


BY    RICHARD    B.    M  c  A  D  O  O 


37 


Before  Pearl  Harbor  he  had  managed  a  plant 
with  some  three  thousand  employees  for  the  du 
Pont  Company.  Handling  a  little  organization 
of  five  hundred  was  a  holiday  for  him.  He  suf- 
fered cruelly  from  ulcers  and  was  often  bent  over 
in  pain  while  giving  orders  in  the  field.  There 
was   an    understanding,    however,    between   him 

;  and  the  battalion  surgeon  that  no  word  of  this 
would  leak  to  any  source  that  might  get  him 
invalided  out  of  service.  As  medicine  he  took 
an  occasional  dose  of  what  he  referred  to  as 
"drinkin'  whiskey." 

His  executive  officer,  Lewis  Good,  had  worked 
in  a  butcher  shop  in  Kokomo.  Good  habitually 
moved  and  talked  with  his  eyes  cast  down  just 
ahead  of  his  boots.  He  could  find  out  nearly 
everything  that  was  going  on  in  the  battalion 
through  his  other  four  senses,  and  seldom  looked 
up  except  to  give  an  order  or  to  swap  a  joke. 

i  Good  was  a  master  of  detail,  Bruce  was  the 
experienced  hand  at  management;  together  they 
kept  us  in  a  reasonable  state  of  grace  with  the 
rest  of  the  Army. 

It  was  early  July  1944  when  we  crossed  from 
England  as  part  of  General  Patton's  Third  Army, 
which  was  being  secretly  assembled  for  the  break 
out  of  Normandy.  The  Allies  were  packing  one 
and  a  half  million  men  with  all  their  supplies 
and  equipment  into  the  beachhead.  By  the  end 
of  July  they  held  an  area  roughly  like  a  triangle 
with  Cherbourg  at  the  apex  and  the  base  ex- 
tending across  the  Normandy  peninsula  from 
Avranches  to  Caen.  The  Germans  had  massed 
the  bulk  of  their  armor,  under  Panzer  Group 
West,  on  the  eastern  end  of  the  line  in  order 
to  prevent  the  Allies  from  breaking  into  the  open 
plains  that  stretched  toward  Paris  and  the  Seine. 
This  was  the  British  and  Canadian  sector  where 
Montgomery's  troops  had  carried  on  a  slow 
struggle  to  take  Caen,  the  ancient  capital  from 

i  which  William  the  Bastard  had  set  out  to  con- 
quer England  nine  centuries  before.  "Pivoting 
on  Caen"  was  the  way  Montgomery's  dispatches 
described  the  British  operation,  and  the  phrase 
traveled  as  a  joke  among  American  headquarters. 

GAS     MASQUE 

ALONG  the  western  half  of  the  front  the 
American  First  Army  faced  the  German 
Seventh— not  as  strong  as  the  Panzer  Group  but 
buttressed  in  its  defense  by  the  bocage  of  woods, 
earthen  banks,  hedges,  and  narrow  roads  where 
each  little  field  was  a  natural  fortress. 

Our  battalion  bivouac  during  July  was  spread 
across  a  section  of  this  bocage  a  dozen  miles  be- 


hind the  First  Army  lines.  In  this  patchwork  of 
tiny  hedged  enclosures,  many  of  the  fields  or 
orchards  were  only  large  enough  to  hold  a  hall- 
dozen  pup  tents.  Movement  across  the  area  in- 
volved such  an  intricate  course  through  openings 
in  the  hedgerows  that  we  had  to  memorize  the 
way  to  the  mess  truck  or  to  the  latrine. 

Several  other  artillery  units  were  camped  in 
the  same  area  along  a  winding  dirt  road.  Next 
to  us  was  an  8-inch  howitzer  battalion,  the 
999  F.  A.,  composed  of  Negro  enlisted  men  and 
white  officers.  We  were  to  work  alongside  of 
them  often  during  the  course  of  the  war,  and 
the  two  battalions  got  along  well  together.  We 
respected  their  skill  in  manning  the  giant  how- 
itzers which  were  slightly  larger  than  our  own 
guns.  Their  crews  functioned  with  such  timing 
as  to  make  of  loading,  firing,  and  reloading  the 
howitzers  a  flawless,  slow  dance.  They  were 
skillful,  too,  at  the  technical  operations  of  sur- 
vey and  fire  direction.  Off  duty,  though,  the 
men  against  whom  the  color  line  was  drawn  were 
ripe  for  trouble. 

On  the  south  side  of  this  encampment  was 
a  particularly  dense  orchard  which  served  as  our 
movie  house  a  couple  of  times  a  week.  It  was 
dark  enough  under  the  apple  trees  to  show 
pictures  before  sundown  in  the  long  summer 
evenings.  This  outdoor  theater  was  the  starting 
point  for  an  incident  which  demonstrated  with 
embarrassing  clarity  what  an  innocent  lot  of 
soldiers  we  then  were. 

Men  were  drifting  out  one  night  after  a  run 
of  "Lady  in  the  Dark"  when  a  soldier  stumbled 
on  a  gas  mask  at  the  base  of  an  apple  tree. 

"Anybody  leave  a  gas  mask?"  he  called  out, 
holding  up  the  mask.    "Who  left  a  gas  mask?" 

"Hey,  any  of  you  guys  leave  a  GAS  mask?" 

The  critical  word  floated  through  the  air  to 
a  gunner  corporal  from  Battery  A  of  the  999 
who  was  a  couple  of  hedgerows  ahead  of  the 
crowd  on  the  way  to  his  tent.  As  he  later  ex- 
plained to  a  board  of  investigation,  his  battery 
had  been  rehearsing  gas  defense  the  day  before, 
and  he  knew  that  his  duty  was  to  spread  the 
alarm.  He  sprinted  lor  his  battery  area,  shouting 
"Gas!"  as  he  ran.  In  the  darkness  he  lost  his 
way  among  the  hedgerows,  but  arrived  at  an  out- 
post of  Battery  C.  A  big  sergeant  who  had  been 
taking  a  sponge  bath  and  was  now  dressed  in 
his  underdrawers  and  gas  mask  was  already 
whirling  a  claxon  over  his  head  to  arouse  this 
end  of  the  camp. 

The  corporal,  panting  and  trying  to  hold 
his  breath  at  the  same  time,  asked,  "Is  this  here 
A  Battery?" 


38 


THE    GUNS    AT    FALAISE    GAP 


The  sergeant  shook  his  head  and  called 
through  his  mask,  "A  Battery's  that  way.  And, 
boy,  you  better  hurry,  because  \<>u  got  a  long 
way  to  go  and  not  much  time  to  get  there." 

The  corporal,  starting  oil  again  in  the  direc- 
tion pointed  for  him,  ran  spang  into  an  ob- 
struction that  bounced  him  on  his  back.  He 
made  another  run  and  was  bounced  over  a 
second  time.  He  was  hitting  a  camouflage  net 
stretched  over  a  truck.  On  the  third  try  he 
charged  head  down,  burst  through  the  netting, 
and   knocked   himself  cold  against  the   tailgate. 

As  the  ahum  spread  among  the  tents  men 
hurried  for  their  gas  masks  which  were  habitu- 
dly  packed  at  the  hot  torn  of  their  barracks  hags. 
Manx  soldiers  who  were  too  desperate  to  unpack 
the  equipment  stuffed  on  top  were  slitting  the 
bags  open  with  knives  or  razors. 

For  anyone  who  stopped  to  sniff  the  air  the 
evidence  of  oas  was  clear:  we  had  been  trained 
to  recognize  phosgene  as  smelling  like  new-mown 
hay  and  the  night  was  lull  ol  this  fragrance.  A 
farmer  had  been  mowing  all  clay  in  fields  nearby. 

The  oificers,  uncertain  themselves,  hustled 
around  in  the  spilled  litter  of  pants,  shoes,  let- 
ters, bottles,  socks,  trying  without  success  to 
control  the  panic.  Our  favorite  line  to  quote 
to  each  other  afterwards  was  picked  up  by  a 
battery  commander  who  came  on  two  men  with 
a  single  mask  between  them  which  they  swapped 
hack  and  forth.  While  one  soldier  used  the 
mask  the  other  tried  to  hold  his  breath.  When 
the  officer  approached  he  heard  the  man  who  was 
then  unmasked  pleading  with  his  companion: 
"Man,  you  just  gotta  let  me  have  that  gas  mask 
a  minute.   This  phosgene  is  killing  me." 

Other  soldiers  who  could  not  locate  any  mask 
stuck  their  heads  into  their  barracks  bags  and 
drew  the  cords  tight  around  the  neck. 

A  gas  mask  makes  a  spectral  figure  any  way 
you  look  at  it,  with  its  bulging  eye  lenses  and 
long  tube  like  an  elephant's  trunk.  There  was 
just  enough  light  from  a  thin  moon  to  show 
up  the  masked  men  to  each  other  in  this  gro- 
tesque form.  In  the  gathering  terror,  someone 
fired  three  shots  in  the  air,  a  standard  signal 
of  distress.  Others  followed  suit  as  soon  as  they 
could  find  carbines  and  ammunition.  The  ma- 
chine-gun crews  swarmed  to  their  weapons  and 
joined  in  with  bursts  of  fire,  crisscrossing  the 
night  sky  with  white  tracers. 

One  of  our  own  battalion  sentries  had  come 
to  my  tent  to  report  the  alarm,  and  I  ran  in 
turn  to  the  battalion  commander's  tent,  adjust- 
ing my  mask  on  the  way.  Colonel  Bruce  was 
propped  up  on  his  cot,  writing  on  a  clipboard 


against  his  knee.  Seeing  the  mask  poked  through 
the  Hap  of  his  tent  he  said  with  some  annoyance, 
"What  are  you?" 

"Sir,  there's  a  gas  attack  reported  from  the 
Nine  Nine  Nine."  His  own  mask  was  carefully 
hung  in  readiness  on  the  side  of  his  tent,  so  I 
lifted  it  from  the  hook  and  held  it  toward  him. 

The  Colonel  waved   the  mask  aside. 

"Take  off  that  contraption  so  I  can  hear  what 
you're  mumbling  about." 

Reluctantly  I  took  off  my  mask  and  repeated 
the  report.  The  Colonel  pondered  this  for  a 
moment,  then  said  slowly,  "Ah,  shewt.  Here, 
have  a  drink." 

He  reached  behind  his  cot  and  brought  up  a 
bottle  of  calvados.  Still  I  could  not  accept  his 
instinct  that  the  alarm  was  phony.  I  made  a 
quick  excuse,  picked  up  my  mask,  and  backed 
out  of  the  tent. 

The  shooting  by  now  had  risen  to  the  volume 
of  an  all-out  attack.  At  the  next  tent,  which  was 
the  battalion  command  post,  Major  Good  was 
issuing  orders  to  keep  our  own  batteries  under 
control.  When  he  had  rung  off  the  field  phone 
he  suggested  a  scouting  trip  toward  the  999  to 
find  out  what  was  up. 

Where  the  route  led  past  our  medical  station 
a  lone  figure  was  digging  furiously.  It  was  the 
Doc  himself,  who  had  not  been  able  to  find  a 
mask  but  was  bundled  in  a  suit  of  impreg- 
nated clothing,  so  that  only  his  nose  and  thin 
mustache  showed  out  of  the  little  opening  in 
the  hood.  He  was  now  trying  to  vanish  into 
a  foxhole. 

Beyond  that  point  the  air  was  so  full  of 
whistling  bullets  that  we  did  not  dare  go  into 
the  999's  area.  Through  an  opening  in  a  hedge, 
however,  we  could  get  a  dim  view  of  the  strange 


BY    RICHARD    B.    M  c  A  D  O  O 


39 


performance.  A  group  of  armed  and  masked 
figures  was  milling  about  slowly  in  one  of  the 
larger  fields.  At  intervals  they  fired  a  mass  of 
shots  in  the  air.  This  would  bring  an  answering 
volley  from  the  field  beyond.  Along  the  hedge 
separating  the  two  fields  was  a  third  group  of 
men  who  had  no  weapons.  Caught  between  the 
p  antiphonal  shooting  they  scrambled  back  and 
forth  in  a  rhythmic  effort  to  get  away  from 
each  burst  of  fire. 

Eventually  we  scattered  back  to  our  tents  and 
to  bed.  The  shooting,  however,  kept  up  sporadi- 
cally until  dawn.  No  one  was  hurt  except  the 
corporal  who  had  laid  his  head  open  on  the 
tailgate  of  the  truck.  Sometime  in  the  course 
of  the  night,  when  they  realized  that  they  had 
been  stampeded  by  a  false  alarm,  I  think  the 
segregated  soldiers  of  the  999  must  have  begun 
to  enjoy  a  free-wheeling  revenge  by  shooting  at 
the  stars.  They  seemed  cheerfully  unrepentant 
the  next  day. 

BOOMERANG 

WHILE  this  opera  boufje  was  going  on 
in  the  rear,  the  front  lines  were  being 
worked  into  position  for  the  break  out  of  Nor- 
mandy. Planes  from  the  bases  in  England 
shuttled  overhead  in  massive  relays  to  bombard 
the  German  defenses.  On  August  1  the  Amer- 
icans punctured  the  enemy  line  on  the  south- 
western end  of  the  front.  The  troops  of  our 
Third  Army,  which  officially  came  into  operation 
that  day,  were  lined  up  for  twenty  miles  on 
the  roads  above  Avranches,  waiting  to  squeeze 
through  the  funnel  provided  by  a  single  high- 
way which  led  south  along  the  seacoast. 

Seven  divisions  with  various  supporting  units 
passed  over  this  road  within  two  days— those 
of  the  VIII  Corps  spreading  west  into  Brittany 
to  take  the  ports  on  the  coast,  and  the  XV  Corps 
going  south.  As  the  troops  advanced  and  found 
only  scattered  resistance,  the  XV  Corps  was 
wheeled  east  and  headed   toward  Paris. 

The  989  F.  A.  ground  along  on  the  tail  end 
of  this  parade.  Occasionally  the  column  had 
to  snake  around  a  wrecked  German  or  Amer- 
ican vehicle  in  the  road;  and  most  of  the  villages 
along  the  way  showed  scars  of  fighting— shell 
holes  through  the  walls  and  empty  eye-sockets 
of  windows.  But  by  the  time  we  passed  through, 
the  villagers  had  come  from  behind  their  shut- 
ters and  were  seeking  out  their  neighbors  up 
and  down  the  sidewalks.  The  cafe  was  usually 
open  for  business. 

At    crossroads     in     the     open     country     clus- 


ters of  farmers,  wives,  and  barefoot  children 
gathered  to  wave  us  by  with  a  heroes'  greeting. 
If  the  column  was  moving  slowly  enough  we 
could  reach  out  and  gather  their  tributes  of 
fresh  eggs  and  tomatoes  and  calvados  which 
had  been  earned  by  men  who  had  cleared  the 
way  a  day  or  two  earlier.  Whether  we  had 
to  pay  for  it  at  the  cafe  or  got  it  free  along 
the  roadside  there  was  enough  drink  to  keep 
everyone  happy— and  some  frequently  drunk. 
Riding  along  in  a  vacuum,  between  the  fight- 
ing behind  and  ahead  of  us,  we  were  unaware 
that  events  were  moving  toward  a  tragic  show- 
down between  the  weakness  of  German  leader- 
ship on  one  hand,  and  the  flexibility  and 
initiative  of  the  Allied  command  on  the  other. 


w 


IzwUsb  Cnmnel 


'*tA 


Caen 


%, 


+$l.l 


\  .faranckei       Ji>^  *  •Rrpntan  i 


in.    «//,*.  M  •Jralatse     ~.     ,. 


90th  div. 


"By  a  slow  retiring  action  I  could  have  made 
the  Allies  pay  a  fearful  price  for  the  victory," 
Field  Marshal  von  Runstedt  was  to  observe 
after  the  war,  "but  my  only  authority  was  to 
change  the  guard  in  front  of  my  gate." 

The  German  plans  of  action  in  precise  detail 
were  being  issued  from  a  concrete  bunker  a 
thousand  miles  away  in  East  Prussia.  Hitler 
had  come  to  France  only  once  since  the  Allied 
landings,  when  he  met  with  his  generals  near 
Soissons  on  June  17.  The  information  on  which 
he  was  now  basing  his  orders  was  frequently 
obsolete.  His  plans  apparently  took  little  ac- 
count of  the  condition  of  his  troops,  who  were 
becoming  acutely  short  of  weapons  and  supplies, 
exhausted  by  emergency  movements,  and  de- 
moralized by  the  weight  of  Allied  air  power. 
The  Germans  did  not  have  a  single  railroad 
bridge  left  across  the  Seine  below  Paris  to  carry 
reinforcements  to  the  front.  Prisoners  reported 
that  men  released  from  hospitals  were  being 
lumped  in  makeshift  units  and  thrown  into 
the  line.  Except  when  our  planes  were  grounded 
by  bad  weather,  the  German  motor  columns  were 


40 


THE    GUNS    AT    FALAISE    G  A  P 


subject  to  such  bombing  and  strafing  that  they 
could  move  on  the  roads  only  at  night. 

Worst  ol  all  for  the  Germans,  their  generals 
were  ah. nil  to  tell  Hitler  the  truth.  Since  the 
attempt  on  July  20  to  assassinate  him,  he  mis- 
trusted his  field  commanders  who  were  not 
members  of  the  Nazi  party  or  the  SS.  The 
conspiracy  to  eliminate  M  it  hi  was  known  to 
many  of  his  high-ranking  officers  who  saw  the 
scrawl  of  disaster  on  the  wall.  Von  Kluge,  who 
had  taken  over  von  Runstedt's  command  at 
the  beginning  of  July,  was  evidently  one  of 
those  who  knew  in  advance  of  the  plot.  II  his 
sympathies  were  discovered,  it  would  mean  death 
for  himself  and  perhaps  further  revenge  on  his 
family.  When  Hitler  ordered  his  commander 
in  the  west  not  to  yield  a  loot  of  ground,  von 
Kluge  did  not  dare  to  oppose  him.  between 
the  pressure  of  fear  for  their  own  lives  and 
positions,  and  the  discipline  of  their  military 
tradition,  the  Field  Marshal  and  the  generals 
under  him  sacrificed  their  troops  tathei  than 
bring   Hitler's   wrath    upon    themselves. 

While  the  Third  Arim  was  spreading  south 
from  Normandy  through  Mavenne  and  Brittany, 
Hitler  decided  from  his  bunker  that  he  could 
split  the  American  armies  in  two  b\  driving 
,i  wedge  through  Avranches  to  the  seacoast.  He 
gave  explicit  orders  to  von  Kluge  lor  such  a 
counterattack.  Von  Kluge,  realizing  the  need 
lor  speed,  attacked  quickly  on  the  night  of 
August  6-7  without  waiting  until  every  man 
and  weapon  was  assembled  exactly  as  Hit  lei 
had  ordered;  but  American  divisions  that  had 
been  held  around  Avranches  to  protect  the  nar- 
row passage  along  the  coast,  coupled  with  the 
strength  of  Allied  planes,  brought  the  German 
offensive   to  a  standstill. 

When  word  of  this  reached  Hitler,  he  de- 
dared  in  a  rage,  according  to  one  of  his  deputies, 
"Von  Kluge  attacked  too  soon.  He  did  that 
intentionally  to  show  that  my  orders  could 
not  be  carried  out."  Hitler  promptly  ordered 
von  Kluge  to  mount  a  second  offensive  against 
Avranches.  Not  only  was  the  order  accompanied 
by  detailed  instructions  for  the  disposition  of 
units  that  were  half  dismembered  or  unable 
to  reach  the  front  at  all,  but  von  Kluge  was 
required  to  submit  his  complete  battle  plan  for 
approval  before  launching   the  attack. 

By  August  7  the  XV  Corps  had  passed  through 
Laval,  fifty  miles  south  of  Avranches.  In  an- 
other three  days  we  had  moved  forty  miles  east 
to  Le  Mans.  Then  our  course  took  a  sharp  left 
turn  and  steered  north.  It  was  apparent  to 
everyone  with  an  elementary  sense  of  direction 


that  we  were  swinging  like  a  giant  boomerang 
far  around  the  German  Seventh  Army  and  com- 
ing up  behind  them.  The  hapless  von  Kluge, 
waiting  lor  approval  of  the  battle  plans  he  was 
required  to  send  back  to  East  Prussia,  was 
mortally  exposed  to  what  Omar  Bradley  has 
described  in  A  Soldier's  Story  as  "an  opportu- 
nity that  comes  to  a  commander  not  more  than 
once   in  a   century." 

THE     VALLEY     OF    ESCAPE 

Or  R  column  was  halted  off  the  road  on 
the  afternoon  ol  August  14,  the  men 
dozing  in  the  sunshine  or  talking  together  in 
small  groups,  when  the  Colonel  called  us  to- 
gether for  orders.  We  were  to  move  forward 
with  the  Filth  Armored  Division  as  last  as  pos- 
sible, in  order  to  fire  on  the  Germans'  narrow- 
ing escape  route.  This  rude  surprise  meant 
pulling  ahead  ol  the  organized  front  lines  into 
unknown  territory— which  was  not  the  way  we 
had  intended  to  do  our  part  in  winning  the  war. 
The  rule  book  had  assured  us  that  heavy  artillery 
sat  securely  in  the  rear  and  fired  over  the  heads 
of  the  men  doing  the  dirty  work  up  front. 
General  Patton  was  exulting  over  the  fact  that 
his  Third  Army  had  by  this  time  "advanced 
farther  and  faster  than  any  army  in  history." 
To  us  it  appeared  that  he  might  be  trying  to 
push  a  good   thing  too  far. 

As  the  column  passed  between  lines  of  in- 
lantrymen  resting  beside  the  road,  they  hollered 
approvingly  at  the  sight  of  the  big  guns.  From 
then  on  we  traveled  alone,  following  the  route 
of  the  tanks  which  were  somewhere  ahead.  To- 
ward nightfall  we  caught  up  with  the  armor 
outside  the  village  of  Mortree,  in  gently  rolling 
country  south  of  a  ridge  that  borders  the  River 
Dives.  The  twelve  Long  Toms  were  towed  into 
positions  spread  over  a  mile  of  open  fields,  with 
some  tanks  of  the  Fifth  Armored  scattered 
around  us  in  a  protective  ring.  By  the  intricate 
calculations  of  map  measurement,  drift,  wind 
velocity,  temperature,  humidity,  and  chance  the 
guns  were  laid  on  the  town  of  Trim,  in  German 
territory  thirteen  miles  away,  and  we  began 
to  shoot. 

In  firing  position,  the  ungainly  mass  of  each 
Long  Tom  changed  into  a  graceful  articulation 
of  power.  The  long  steel  trails  spread  behind 
in  a  V  and  tapered  down  to  the  spades  buried 
in  the  earth  to  brace  the  gun  in  position.  The 
barrel,  elevated  to  fire,  carried  out  the  line  of 
the  piece  to  a  long,  fine  point.  When  the  No.  1 
man    jerked   his   lanyard,    the   ground    quivered 


BY    RICHARD    B.    McADOO 


41 


under  the  simultaneous  crack  of  thunder  and 
jagged  spurt  of  flame  from  the  muzzle;  and 
before  the  eye  could  refocus  on  it,  the  barrel 
was  gliding  lazily  forward  from  its  recoil  into 
battery  for  reloading.  With  the  beat  of  the  guns 
going  on  throughout  that  first  night,  the  bat- 
talion, too,  became  a  machine  in  full  function. 

Early  the  next  day  a  party  of  two  jeeps  was 
organized  to  go  forward  and  locate  an  Obser- 
vation Post  covering  the  German  movements. 
Gordon  Crabtree,  who  had  come  from  a  Provi- 
dence bank  to  be  Forward  Observer  in  C  Bat- 
tery, rode  with  his  driver  in  one  car;  Ed  Neikum 
and  I  in  the  other.  Behind  our  position  the 
tanks  of  the  Fifth  Armored  were  beating  off 
an  attempt  of  a  small  roving  band  of  German 
tanks  to  break  through  the  area,  but  ahead  of 
the  guns  the  road  was  quite  clear.  Some  five 
miles  forward,  the  road  climbed  a  long  grade 
to  an  intersection  on  the  crest  of  a  ridge.  On  the 
far  side  of  this  junction  was  a  stone  farmhouse 
flanked  by  a  small  orchard. 

We  pulled  the  jeeps  close  to  the  wall  of  the 
house  and  Neikum— a  burly  steelworker  from 
Pittsburgh— began  to  check  radio  contact  with 
the  gun  batteries  while  Crabtree  and  I  got  out 
to  look  around.  The  farmhouse  looked  as 
though  it  were  empty,  and  fortunately  it  was, 
for  we  were  still  too  green  at  this  kind  of  work 
to  think  of  checking  inside.  There  was  no-one 
else  in  sight  as  we  walked  through  the  orchard 
to  the  hedge  on  its  northern  rim.  Beyond  this 
point  the  ground  banked  away  steeply  in  a 
pattern  of  hedgerows,  orchards,  and  fields  to 
the  bottom  of  a  broad  valley.  Over  the  top  o£ 
the  hedge  we  could  see  five,  maybe  six,  miles 
across  the  bowl  that  has  since  been  called  the 
Falaise  Gap.  Out  of  sight  to  the  north  the 
Canadian  First  Army  was  pushing  toward  us 
against  the  main  strength  of  German  armor. 
When  they  closed  down,  the  valley  right  in 
front  would  become  the  last  passage  of  escape 
for  the  80,000  men  of  the  German  Seventh  Army, 
still  stranded  far  to  the  west. 

STILL     LIFE,     WITH     TANK 

THIS  morning,  though,  the  valley  cradled 
its  farms  in  the  full  bloom  of  summer. 
The  only  sound  of  war  was  an  American  tank 
oft  to  the  left  grinding  back  and  forth  on  the 
road  running  along  the  top  of  the  ridge  toward 
the  town  of  Argentan,  five  miles  west.  After  a 
while  the  tank  settled  into  position  and  the 
countryside  became  quite  still,  except  for  the 
natural  murmurs  of  August.    In  the  trees  over- 


head yellow  jackets  were  buzz-diving  the  ripe 
apples.  Cows  grazed  in  their  pastures  on  the 
floor  of  the  valley;  other  fields  were  dotted  with 
haycocks  under  drifting  patches  of  shadow  and 
sun  as  the  wind  reshaped  the  clouds. 

Then  a  machine  gun  on  the  tank  started  drill- 
ing into  another  orchard  down  the  slope  in 
front  of  us.  It  quickly  drew  fire  in  return  from 
two  German  tanks  which  had  been  hidden  there. 
The  shooting  went  back  and  forth  harmlessly 
for  a  time,  and  we  watched  in  fascination— until 
an  American  officer  who  had  been  with  the 
friendly  tank  came  struggling  into  the  OP,  drag- 
ging an  anti-tank  gun.  To  our  chagrin  he 
jockeyed  the  gun  into  position  beside  us  with 
its  barrel  poked  through  the  hedge.  As  soon 
as  he  fired,  the  German  tanks  trained  the  eyes 
of  their  barrels  on  him  and  let  go  two  rounds 
of  solid  shot.  One  spun  overhead  with  a  shriek 
through  the  farmhouse, 
bringing  a  rain  of  plaster 
down  on  the  jeeps.  The 
second  round  buried  itself 
in  the  roots  of  the  hedge 
and  split  cracks  through 
the  earth  where  Crabtree 
and  I  were  trying  to  squirm 
into  the  ground,  tasting 
our  terror.  (I  think  we 
were  both  still  sharply 
aware  of  the  flavor  when 
we  met  again  for  the  first 
time  in  thirteen  years  on  a 
train  between  Boston  and 
New  York— he  was  taking 
his  son  to  see  the  Yankees 
play  Milwaukee.) 

Perhaps  the  German 
tank  men  thought  they 
were  being  attacked  by  a  powerful  American 
force.  Anyhow,  after  those  two  rounds  they 
backed  out  of  their  positions  and  clanked  away 
downhill  through  the  trees;  and  the  OP  was 
never  fired  on  again. 

The  view  commanded  by  this  point  on  the 
ridge  would  have  suited  an  Alexander  or  Na- 
poleon for  guiding  the  destruction  of  an  enemy 
at  his  mercy.  On  the  left,  or  western,  end  of 
the  valley  lay  a  thick  belt  of  woods,  the  Foret 
de  Gouffern,  with  an  oblong  clearing  in  its 
center.  To  the  right  of  the  forest  was  a  wide 
open  plain  crossed  by  two  roads  that  we  could 
see  clearly.  These  merged  into  the  village  of 
Chambois  on  the  eastern  end  of  the  valley. 

During  most  of  this  day  of  watching  there 
was    no    movement    to    be    seen    on    the    roads 


42 


THE    GUNS    AT    FALAISE    GAP 


except  for  ;m  occasional  farm  cart.  Toward  sun- 
down, a  German  stafl  cai  came  out  of  tin  woods 
and  made  its  way  into  Chambois.  This  was 
no  target  lor  our  artillery,  but  it  was  a  sign. 
A  few  minutes  later  three  horse-drawn  supply 
wagons  trotted  oul  ol  the  village  in  the  oppo- 
site direction.  We  (ailed  a  fire  mission  over 
the  radio.  The  rounds  landed  far  behind  the 
wagon  train  hut  the  hoists  broke  into  a  gallop 
lot  the  covei  ol  trees.  Not  far  behind  them  a 
tiiuk  emerged  from  the  village,  then  a  second 
truck.  The  darkness  was  rising  and  the  Ger- 
mans were  taking  advantage  ol  it  to  move  on 
the  roads. 


THF.     GAME     OF     TIMING 

THE  second  day  ol  our  watch  over  the 
nanowing  trap  was  still  relatively  quiet. 
An  occasional  cat  cam<  speeding  out  ol  Cham- 
bois, headed  west.  Manx  more  ti  ik  ks  and  wagons 
were  breaking  at  intervals  out  ol  the  forest  to 
make  the  run  for  the  village.  Bringing  (ire  on 
them  was  a  game  ol  timing.  II  we  called  for 
an  artillery  concentration  on  one  of  the  roads 
at  the  edge  of  the  forest,  the-  rounds  might  hit 
by  lurk  as  a  German  vehicle  emerged.  But  if 
we  waited  until  the  vehicles  were  in  plain  sight 
(he  problem  was  to  gauge  what  point  they  would 
reach  by  the  time  our  guns  five  miles  back 
could  load  and  fire,  and  the  shells  would  arc 
to  the  target. 

Once  we  called  our  instructions  back  to  the 
fire  direction  center,  we  could  only  wait  like 
roulette  players  lor  the  moment  of  decision.  (A 
155mm  shell,  weighing  about  ninety-five  pounds, 
was  a  bullet-shaped  casing  six  inches  in  diam- 
eter and  two-and-a-half  leet  long.  On  impact 
it  exploded  ragged  steel  fragments  across  an 
area  one  hundred  yards  or  more  wide.)  II  the 
shells  scored  a  direct  hit  the  report  back  to 
headquarters  was  jubilant.  When  the  timing 
was  less  successful,  we  lied  a  little:  "Column  dis- 
persed.   Mission  accomplished." 

By  the  third  day  the  road  up  to  the  OP 
had  begun  to  blossom  with  signposts  in  various 
colors,  marking  the  headquarters  of  other  Amer- 
ican artillery  battalions,  infantry  regiments,  and 
signal  companies  crowding  into  the  area.  The 
80th  Division  was  moving  up  to  take  Argentan; 
the  Second  French  Armored  was  on  their  left; 
and  the  90th  Division  deployed  along  the  ridge. 
The  Germans  attacked  up  the  shoulder  of  the 
ridge  on  our  left,  with  a  force  of  about  a  thou- 
sand men  and  some  supporting  tanks,  in  an 
effort   to  push  back   this  jaw  of   the   trap.    The 


stroii"- new  Allied  line  repulsed  the  attack,  \ltct 
that  the  German  organization  seemed  to  break 
down  entirely. 

lot   the    American  troops  to  cross  tins  valley 

and  join  up  with  the  Canadians  around  Falaise 
seemed  a  logical  next  step.  We  did  not  know 
until  afterwards  that  Patton  had  started  to  send 
sonic  tanks  north  from  Argentan,  but  had  been 
restrained  In  Bradley.  .Montgomery's  forces  were 
counted  on  to  come  down  from  the  north  and 
meet  with  us.  yet  their  progress  seemed  painfully 
slow.    Bradley  has  written  ol  this  blunder: 

but  instead  ol  redoubling  his  push  to  ( lose- 
that  leak,  Monty  shifted  his  main  effort  against 
the  pocket  further  west.  Rather  than  close  the 
tiap  by  capping  the  leak.  Monty  proceeded  to 
squeeze  the  enemy  out  toward  the  Seine.  If 
Monty's  tactics  mystified  me,  they  dismayed 
Eisenhower  even   more.  .  .  . 

Although  Pal  ton  might  have  spun  a  line 
across  that  narrow  nick,  I  doubted  his  ability 
to  hold  it.  Nineteen  German  divisions  were 
now  stampeding  to  escape  the  trap.  Mean- 
while, with  lour  divisions  George  [Pat ton]  was 
already  blocking  three  principal  escape  routes 
through  AleiHon,  Sees,  and  Argentan.  Had 
he  stretched  that  line  to  include  Falaise  he 
would  have  extended  his  road  block  40  miles. 
The  enemy  could  not  only  have  broken 
through,  but  he  might  have  trampled  Pat  ton's 
position   in  the  onrush. 

Montgomery  subsequently  ordered  his  Ca- 
nadian and  Polish  tioops  to  make  a  fresh  thrust 
on  Chambois  from  the  north.  By  then  Bradley 
had  lost  hope  ol  closing  the  trap  <pii<klv.  and 
pulled  out  the  Fifth  Armored  to  hurry  east  with 
the  79th  Infantry  Division  on  a  new,  longer 
hook  at  the  Seine. 

"For  the  first  and  only  time  during  the  war," 
Bradley  relates,  "I  went  to  bed  worrying  over 
a  decision  I  had  already  made.  To  this  day  I 
am  not  yet  certain  that  we  should  not  have 
postponed  our  advance  to  the  Seine  and  gone 
on    to   Chambois    instead." 

Meanwhile  Hitler  had  finally  given  von  Kluge 
permission  to  withdraw  his  troops  east  of  the 
Seine.  The  Canadians  had  taken  Falaise  on 
the  north  side  of  the  valley,  leaving  an  escape 
route  barely  ten  miles  wide  for  the  German 
Seventh  Army. 

At  night  stray  German  soldiers  in  flight  from 
the  pocket  filtered  around  the  firing  batteries. 
Flashes  from  our  guns  would  sometimes  light 
up  these  figures  scuttling  along  the  hedges. 
Others  blundered  into  the  middle  of  the  work- 
ing crews  and  quickly  surrendered  if  they  were 


J 


BY     RICHARD    B.    McADOO 


43 


not  shot  first  by  the  outpost  guards.  Most  of 
the  men  taken  prisoner  said  they  had  not  eaten 
for  several  days;  a  few  reported  that  their  officers 
had  driven  off  in  the  available  cars,  asserting 
that  they  had  to  go  first  to  organize  the  defenses 
of  the  homeland. 

Yet  there  were  some  officers  among  those  we 
took  prisoner,  wearily  trying  to  guide  little 
groups  of  fugitives  east  toward  home.  One  such 
group  still  had  the  spirit  to  attack  an  outpost 
with  a  hand  grenade  which  wounded  two  of 
our  men.  In  charge  was  a  young  lieutenant  with 
whom  the  others  had  fallen  in  that  morning. 
While  we  were  holding  them  under  guard  the 
lieutenant  came  smartly  to  attention  and  saluted 
any  American  officer  who  approached.  This 
brave  gesture  of  military  courtesy  had  to  be 
executed  on  one  leg,  for  he  had  a  deep  wound 
in  the  other. 


While  the  pincers  pressed  tighter  on  the  Ger- 
mans, our  battalion  observation  parties  worked 
in  shifts  at  the  orchard.  We  tried  setting  up 
other  OPs  at  different  points  along  the  ridge, 
but  this  one  spot  gave  such  a  full  sweep  of  the 
valley  that  it  was  a  magnet  drawing  the  observers 
back  together. 

On  the  fourth  day,  as  Neikum  steered  our 
jeep  up  to  the  orchard  on  the  ridge,  a  long 
column  of  men  in  the  gray-green  uniform  of 
the  Wehrmacht  was  coming  toward  us  from  the 
direction  of  Argentan.  A  German  officer  marched 
at  their  head.  Beside  him  was  an  American 
doughboy   who   kept   glancing  uncertainly   over 


his  shoulder  at  his  haul  of  prisoners— perhaps 
one  hundred  of  them.  When  they  came  abreast 
of  us  the  American  jerked  his  head  at  the  officer 
to  halt  the  column,  and  walked  over  to  the  jeep, 
asking  where  he  could  take  these  men.  We  told 
him  there  was  a  POW  collection  point  about 
a  mile  down  the  road  we  had  just  traveled.  He 
motioned  to  the  officer  to  get  the  column  moving 
again,  and  as  he  started  off  with  them  the  GI 
called  back  at  us: 

"Wait'll  the  folks  at  home  get  a  load  of  this. 
Two  hundred  of  them,  single-handed." 

In  the  orchard  a  half-dozen  artillery  observers 
from  other  battalions  were  already  lined  up- 
each  at  a  Battery  Commander's  Scope  whose  twin 
periscopic  tubes  stuck  up  like  rabbit  ears  above 
the  hedge.  Down  below,  German  vehicles  were 
running  in  quick  succession  on  both  roads  across 
the  plain.  The  observers  at  the  OP  were  plead- 
ing over  their  phones  or  radios  for  more  rounds 
on  these  targets.  At  intervals  the  Germans  would 
wait  under  the  cover  of  the  forest  for  the  artillery 
fire  to  lift.  Then  a  new  string  of  vehicles  would 
break  from  the  edge  of  the  trees  and  weave 
around  the  wrecked  equipment. 

THE     AGONY     SOUNDPROOFED 

ON  T  H  E  far  left  end  of  the  valley,  troops 
were  streaming  across  the  clearing  in  the 
center  of  the  forest  to  enter  the  nearer  section 
of  woods.  The  pressure  of  this  flood  gradually 
became  so  heavy  that  the  Germans  could  not 
wait  for  a  break  in  our  artillery  fire  to  run  across 
the  plain.  Halftracks  and  trucks,  guns,  wagons, 
ambulances  were  being  pushed  onto  the  roads 
bumper  to  bumper  by  the  hundreds.  The  game 
of  timing  between  the  ridge  and  the  valley  gave 
way  to  mass  destruction. 

Nightfall  on  this  day  offered  the  Germans  a 
reprieve.  The  American  artillery  slacked  o(f  in 
its  firing  when  we  could  not  see  into  the  gap, 
and  this  tactical  error  undoubtedly  allowed  a 
lot  of  fleeing  troops  to  make  their  way  safely 
through  Chambois.  Still  there  were  masses  of 
them  waiting  to  squeeze  by  when  it  grew  light. 

They  had  managed  to  clear  the  two  roads 
during  the  night.  The  artillery  fire  quickly 
clogged  these  again  with  wreckage.  The  Ger- 
mans then  took  to  the  fields.  There  were  fewer 
trucks  and  tanks  coming  now,  many  more  horse- 
drawn  wagons.  Up  and  down  the  edge  of  the 
forest  the  teams  emerged  at  a  gallop,  driving 
into  the  hedges  that  checkered  the  valley.  Some 
broke  through;  others  somersaulted  in  a  wild 
tangle    of    men,    animals,    and    baggage.     The 


44 


THE    GUNS    AT    FALAISE    GAP 


lioi  s<  s  thai  could  break  free  of  (heir  traces 
dodged  between  the  fields  in  an  aimless  frenzy, 
while  bursting  shells  picked  them  ofl  at  random. 
Twice  I  saw  a  wagon  race  from  the  trees  and 
turn  lull  circle  to  disappear  into  the  woods 
again  as  the  driver  could  not,  or  would  not, 
drive  his  team  through  the  rain  <>l  shellfire. 

I  he    agon}    ol    the    slaughter    could    not    be 
heard    from   the   OP.    Ii    was   soundproofed    l>\ 

the  distanii  ol  a  mile  and  a  hall  and  passed 
across  oui  high-powered  lenses  like  a  silent 
movie.  The  only  sounds  we  could  distinguish 
from  the  \  dle\  were  the  muffled  bursts  ol  our 
own  shells,  exploding  German  ammunition,  and 
-out  of  sight  to  the  west— a  thunder  of  fighter 
planes  strafing  die  columns  that  wer<  being 
driven  into  the  sluice. 

The  ridge,  though,  was  nois)  with  excitement. 
Many  ol  our  own  battalion— Colonel  Bruce, 
Majot  Good,  the  batter)  commanders— who  had 
come  up  to  check  on  operations  while  die  stam- 
pede was  at  its  height,  could  hardly  shoulder 
through  the  crowd  along  die  hedge.  A  news 
photographer  pre-empted  a  BC  scope  set  up  by 
Dick  Mahan.  die  commander  ol  A  Battery,  and 
was  shooting  pictures  through  one  eyepiece.  \ 
majoi  general,  towing  his  stall  behind  him. 
strode  from  one  BC  scope  to  another,  command- 
ing a  look.  The  air  whirred  with  shells— 105s, 
155s,  8-inch  howitzers— converging  cm  tin-  val- 
ley. Outside  the  orchard,  columns  ol  Germans 
shuffled  toward  the  rear  from  the  Argentan 
road,  up  the  lane  from  the  valley,  out  ol  the 
trees  on  the  hillside-.  These  w<  re  die  lucky  ones 
who  had  been  squeezed  to  the  edge  of  the  cor- 
ridor where  ihe\  could  surrender.  Their  com 
iades  in  the  middle  ol  die  crowd  below  had  no 
choice  but   to  run   into  the  inferno. 

The  boiling  dust  and  smoke  obscured  much 
of  the  plain  by  mid-afternoon.  Lacking  clear 
targets  to  shoot  at,  we  poured  our  artillery  fire 
into  the  concealing  trees  and  raked  it  back  and 
forth   indiscriminately   between   the   village   and 


the  Eorest.  Sometimes  die  pall  would  open 
briefly,  showing  columns  ol  nun  lour  abreast. 
I><  in*.;  inarched  acioss  die  fields.  Then  they 
would  dis.ippeai  again  under  a  splatter  of  shells. 
Ih.ii  evening  the  gap  was  closed  temporarily 
l>\  American  infantry  who  pressed  into  Cham- 
hois  and  joined  with  Canadian  and  Polish 
troops  coming  down  from  the  north  side.  Some 
German  SS  troops  succeeded  in  breaking  through 
this  thin  (ounce  lion  the  following  morning; 
but  a  hide  later  die  trap  was  closed  loi  good. 
At  leasi  10.(10(1  Germans  had  died  in  the  pocket, 
and    15,000  were  taken   prisoner. 

INSPECTION     TOUR 

THE  operation  at  the  Falaise  Gap  has 
always  seemed  in  retrospect  to  have  been 
timed  like  a  regular  work  week;  and  I  am 
sin  prised  to  find  from  a  1944  calendar  thai  it 
did  in  lact  begin  on  a  Monday  and  end  on 
Saturday,  August  20.  1>\  that  time  much  ol 
the  Allied  force  was  already  streaming  away 
toward  Paris,  racing  alongside  the  Germans  who 
had  been  able  to  escape.  The  Americans  and 
British  had  bridgeheads  established  acioss  the 
Seine,  and  there  was  no  organized  German  line 
ol  defense  against  them  from  there  to  the  border 
ol  Germany.  Von  Kluge,  who  had  been  relieved 
ol  his  command  by  Model  on  August  10,  had 
taken  poison.  He  was  dead  when  the  plane 
carrying  him  back  to  Germany  set  down  in  Metz. 

In  the  rush  to  disentangle  the  troops  con- 
centrated around  Argentan  and  Falaise  and 
move  them  across  France,  the  989  F.  A.  was 
forgotten.  We  were  left  in  the  fields  outside 
Mortree  lor  most  of  another  week,  and  could 
indulge  what  was  then  the  limit  of  our  notions 
ol  luxury:  three  lull  meals  a  clay,  a  bath,  a 
change  ol    uniform,   and   sleep. 

About  three  days  alter  the  firing  stopped,  I 
took  a  jeep  to  have  a  look  at  the  valley.  The 
German    prisoners    and    American    troops    had 


BY    RICHARD    B.    McADOO 


45 


gone  their  separate  ways,  and  the  familiar  road 
up  to  the  OP  was  deserted  except  tor  a  crew 
salvaging  telephone  line  from  the  tangle  of 
wires  left  in  the  ditch.  At  the  farmhouse  a 
woman  was  sweeping  the  steps  before  the  front 
door,  as  I  drove  past  toward  the  lane  leading 
downhill  on   the  other  side  of  the  orchard. 

The  floor  of  the  valley  looked  much  as  it 
had  before  the  haze  closed  over  it  on  the  pre- 
vious Saturday  afternoon.  The  roads  from  the 
Foret  de  Gouffern  to  Chambois  had  been  cleared 
again— this  time  by  Allied  troops  moving  through 
to  the  east— but  from  the  ditches  out  across  the 
flat  bottom-lands  the  ground  was  still  strewn 
with  wreckage  of  equipment  and  human  beings. 
Among  these  countless  tortured  images  of  de- 
feat, the  sight  of  the  forsaken  horses  stung  most 
sharply.  The  dead  soldiers  were  past  caring, 
the  wounded  had  been  borne  away  by  the  medi- 
cal corps;  all  of  them  had  at  some  point  taken 
their  individual  chances  with  the  cause  that  had 
brought  them  to  this  end.  But  the  animals  had 
no  choice,  and  now  they  were  left  to  limp  about 
the  remains  of  the  masters  they  had  dumbly 
served. 

Where  the  roads  entered  the  forest,  the  litter 
was  replaced  by  a  certain  decorum.  Trucks  and 
wagons  were  parked  in  solid  lines  on  each  side, 
as  they  might  have  been  left  by  drivers  hurrying 
off  to  a  country  fair.  Some  distance  into  the 
forest  the  road  I  had  taken  led  to  the  gate  of  a 
gray  stone  chateau  set  in  a  level  glade.  The  gate 
was  partly  blocked  by  a  staff  car,  so  I  got 
out  of  the  jeep  to  walk  up  the  driveway.  A 
German  colonel  was  leaning  back  in  the  center 
of  the  rear  seat  of  the  staff  car,  as  though  he 
were  taking  a  nap  under  a  film  of  dust. 

A  sense  of  repose  after  great  strain  lay  over 
this  place,  its  quiet  broken  only  by  the  stray 
horses  moving  among  the  trees.  The  tall  double 
windows  in  the  front  of  the  chateau  faced  a 
rectangular  garden  pool,  neatly  bordered  with 
shrubs.  The  Germans  had  apparently  used  the 
building  as  an  emergency  hospital.  In  one  of 
the  second-story  rooms  there  was  a  table  that 
might  have  served  for  operating,  for  old  bandages 
were  scattered  around  it  on  the  floor.  These 
and  a  priest's  black  cassock,  hanging  in  a  ward- 
robe outside  a  little  white-tiled  chapel,  were 
the  only  furnishings  I  remember  seeing  in  the 
building. 

Behind  the  chateau  was  a  lawn  leading  to 
a  separate  stone  tower.  Here  someone  had  tried 
to  mark  the  place  as  a  medical  station  by  lay- 
ing out  a  white  sheet  and  spreading  over  it,  in 
the  form  of  a  cross,  two  chasubles  of  watered 


The  Great  Killing  Ground 


T 


H  E  battlefield  at  Falaise  was  un- 
questionably one  of  the  greatest 
"killing  grounds"  of  any  of  the 
war  areas.  Roads,  highways,  and 
fields  were  so  choked  with  de- 
stroyed equipment  and  with  dead 
men  and  animals  that  passage 
through  the  area  was  extremely 
difficult.  Forty-eight  hours  after 
the  closing  of  the  gap  f  was  con- 
ducted through  it  on  foot,  to  en- 
counter scenes  that  could  be  de- 
scribed only  by  Dante.  It  was 
literally  possible  to  walk  for  hun- 
dreds of  yards  at  a  time,  stepping 
on  nothing  but  dead  and  decaying 
flesh. 

— Dwight  D.  Eisenhower,  Crusade 
in  Europe,  1948. 


silk  which  had  probably  come  from  the  chapel 
—one  purple  for  Lent  and  one  crimson  for  Pen- 
tecost. The  vestments  were  wet  from  a  recent 
rain  and  the  colors  had  run  out  from  the  edges 
of  the  silk,  mingling  in  dark  stains  on  the  sheet. 
I  had  circled  back  to  the  driveway  and  was 
headed  for  the  jeep  when  I  came  upon  a  badly 
wounded  horse.  He  was  not  bothering  to  crop 
the  grass,  but  stood  as  though  propped  on  his 
four  legs  with  his  head  hanging  forward.  I 
stood  in  front  of  him  for  a  minute,  propped  on 
two  legs  and  trying  to  work  up  courage  to 
shoot  him.  With  a  good  deal  of  sweating  I  finally 
got  my  pistol  out  of  the  holster,  wondering  what 
was  the  best  place  to  aim— but  before  I  could 
put  a  bullet  into  the  chamber,  the  horse  sagged 
dead  to  the  ground. 

I  SUPPOSE  nearly  everyone  in  the  bat- 
talion had  a  chance  to  make  a  tour  of  that 
valley  during  the  week  that  we  were  waiting 
outside  Mortree  for  further  orders.  We  didn't 
talk  much  about  it  though,  and  the  war-is-hell 
line  disappeared  from  the  letters  home.  During 
the  bitter  cold  months  of  the  winter  and  the 
final  spring  of  the  war,  the  989th  Field  Artillery 
suffered  its  share  of  killed  and  wounded,  but 
the  letters  concentrated  on  the  trivial  and  funny 
details  of  our  day-to-day   routine. 


Harper's  Magazine,  May  1958 


By    BRUCE   HUTCHISON 

Editor,  Victoria  (British  Columbia)  Times 


Why  Canadians  are  turning 

ANTI-AMERICAN 


A  friendly  but  exasperated  neighbor 

explains  how  we  are  upsetting  our 

closest  ally — not  on  purpose  hut  through 

simple  ignorance  and  indifference. 

FOR  Americans,  the  results  of  Canada's 
recent  elections  are  more  ominous  than 
most  of  them  yet  realize.  Prime  Minister  John 
Diefenbaker's  Conservative  administration  is 
not  hostile  to  the  American  people.  But  it  is 
hostile  to  many  American  policies,  and  bitterly 
critical  of  what  it  considers  many  recent  Amer- 
ican  blunders.  Moreover  it  is  pledged  to  a  series 
of  measures  which  the  United  States  may  find 
disconcertingly  painful. 

As  a  consequence,  relationships  between  the 
United  States  and  what  has  long  been  its  friend- 
liest close  neighbor  are  likely  to  become,  during 
the  months  just  ahead,  Ear  pricklier  than  they 
have  ever  been  in  modern  times.  This  would 
have  been  true  however  the  election  turned  out. 
Although  the  campaign  was  fought  primarily 
on  domestic  issues,  a  strong  flow  of  anti-Amer- 
ican feeling  ran  just  beneath  the  surface  in  both 
the  Liberal  and  the  Conservative  parties. 

This  resentment  was  nourished  by  Canada's 
business  recession,  which  originated  in  the 
United  States;  by  recent  American  actions  dam- 
aging to  Canadian  interests;  and  by  a  number 
of  other  grievances,  real  or  imaginary.  Now  the 
full  powers  vested  in  Mr.  Diefenbaker  free  him 
—as  he  was  not  free  in  the  last,  stalemated  Par- 
liament—to pursue  a  Canada  First  program 
much  bolder  than  that  of  his  Liberal  predecessors. 

ft    will    include— according    to    his    campaign 


promises— new  steps  to  protect  Canada  from 
American  economic  domination,  and  to  t;ik< 
some  of  its  purchases  away  from  the  American 
market.  United  Slates  restrictions  on  imports 
from  Canada  will  be  resisted,  by  means  not  yet 
disclosed  but  probably  including  higher  Ca- 
nadian tariffs.  Ways  will  be  sought  to  encourage 
the  processing  of  Canadian  raw  materials  at 
home,  rather  than  shipping  them  south  of  the 
border.  In  sum,  the  Prime  Minister  can  be 
expected  to  repel,  much  more  vigorously  than 
any  modern  Canadian  government,  the  pressures 
of  the  giant  next  door.  This  suits  both  his  tem- 
perament and   the  mood  of  his  people. 

What  has  gone  wrong  with  the  historic  con- 
tinental friendship?  Nothing  fundamental.  Not 
much  that  is  new.  And  the  visible  points  of 
friction  are  not  the  main  points  at  all.  What 
is  now  happening  has  roots  which  basically  are 
not  economic  but  psychological— almost  psy- 
chotic. 

To  be  sure,  the  visible  economic  points  of 
friction  are  sufficiently  deranged  to  alarm  any 
Canadian— and  should  alarm  any  American  who 
has  mastered  simple  addition  and  subtraction. 
Sixteen  million  Canadians  are  spending  a  billion 
dollars  a  year  more  in  the  United  States  than 
ten  times  that  many  Americans  are  spending 
in  Canada. 

Canada  is  the  United  States'  largest  foreign 
market.  Unlike  some  other  markets,  it  pays  in 
hard  cash.  It  has  never  borrowed  a  nickel  from 
the  American  government.  The  Canadian  deficit 
is  insupportable  for  any  length  of  time— the 
equivalent  of  an  unthinkable  American  deficit 
of  over  ten  billions  in  a  single  market.  Yet 
the  United  States  seems  determined  to  worsen 
it  by   dumping   farm   surpluses   and   further  re- 


BY    BRUCE    HUTCHISON 


47 


I  stricting  imports  from  Canada  in  disregard  of 
I  the  Geneva  trade  agreements,  good  neighborli- 
|  ness,  and  ordinary  horse  sense. 

Retaining  a  certain  amount  of  horse  sense  of 

I   their  own,  after  the  euphoria  of  a  broken  boom, 

I   Canadians    are    naturally    disturbed    about    an 

I   American  market  where  they  buy  nearly  75  per 

cent    of    their    imports    and    sell    about    60    per 

cent  of  their  exports  to  maintain  themselves  as 

the  world's  fourth  trading  nation. 

They  also  retain  a  grim,  Arctic  sense  of  humor. 
So  they  sometimes  smile  when  American  in- 
dustry, producing  over  four  hundred  billions  a 
year,  screams  that  it  is  being  ruined  by  a  tiny 
trickle  of  Canadian  goods  less  than  one-hun- 
dredth part  of  that  volume— and  most  of  them 
urgently  required.  All  this,  as  in  the  old  fable, 
is  fun  for  the  boys  and  death  for  the  frogs. 

Canadians  have  always  been  worried,  more  or 
less,  on  that  score  because  they  have  always 
been  compelled  to  support  a  deficit  on  the 
border  and  cover  it  by  their  earnings  of  hard 
currency  overseas.  They  are  worried  more  than 
usual  just  now  because  the  deficit  is  far  too 
large,  the  bargain  far  too  one-sided,  and  the 
Canadian  economy  in  a  sharp  decline— caused 
mainly  by  the  American  slump. 

JUST    A    LITTLE 
CONFUSION 

UNDER  these  conditions  Canada's  steady 
northern  nerves  have  become  somewhat 
raw.  Every  new  American  blow  against  our  ex- 
ports, every  foolish  speech  in  Congress,  every 
gaucherie  by  Mr.  John  Foster  Dulles  in  any  part 
of  the  world  tends  to  be  exaggerated  in  the 
Canadian  mind  and  is  often  exploited  out  of  all 
recognition  in  our  politics. 

Virtually  all  previous  elections  have  involved 
the  neighboring  giant  whether  he  knew  it  or 
not.  All  Canadian  history  is  more  than  any- 
thing else  an  attempt  to  come  to  terms  with 
the  United  States  in  the  bread-and-butter  busi- 
ness of  continental  trade.  The  Conservative  party 
has  long  stood  for  the  principle  of  tariff  pro- 
tection, especially  against  the  United  States— 
though  this  principle,  like  all  others  in  a  highly 
pragmatic  nation,  is  stretched  or  shrunk  as 
changing  circumstances  suggest.  The  Liberal 
party  has  stood  for  the  principle  of  minimum 
tariffs  and  maximum  trade— though  its  lifelong 
convictions,  like  those  of  the  late  Mr.  Dooley, 
can  always  be  altered  to  suit. 

At  the  moment  this  oldest  partisan  issue  of 
our  politics   is   in   wild   confusion   and   will   re- 


main so  for  some  time.  The  Conservative  party 
has  threatened,  without  seriously  counting  the 
cost,  to  divert  15  per  cent  of  Canada's  present 
imports  from  the  United  States  to  Britain.  Yet 
simultaneously  it  is  considering  restrictions  on 
imports  from  Britain,  which  would  be  a  classic 
Euclidian  exercise  in  reductio  ad  absurdum. 

The  Liberal  party  opposes  any  diversion  and 
demands  a.  general  expansion  of  trade  in  all 
directions.  To  this  end  it  is  ready  to  consider 
Britain's  offer  of  a  transatlantic  free  trade  area 
—an  offer  legal  under  the  Geneva  trade  agree- 
ment but  terrifying  to  the  Conservatives  and 
to  protected  Canadian  industries. 

The  Liberal  party  knows  very  well,  however, 
that  it  dare  not  appear  to  be  the  advocate  and 
chore  boy  of  American  exporting  interests  and— 
in  practical  politics,  not  to  say  economic  theory 
—it  cannot  defend  the  present  unbalanced  trade 
of  the  border. 

Behind  the  immediate  issue  of  daily  trade 
stands  an  old  American  specter  in  a  new  guise, 
called  economic  penetration.  It  is  easy  and 
proper  for  the  American  Ambassador  to  Canada, 
Mr.  Livingston  Merchant,  and  for  Canadian 
economists  to  argue  that  massive  American  in- 
vestment, at  this  stage,  is  essential  to  Canada's 
growth.  So  it  may  be— but  the  undeniable  human 
fact  is  that  Canadians  fear  it,  even  while  they 
seek  and  need  it.  The  huge  capital  flow  of  recent 
years  nourished  the  Canadian  boom  (inciden- 
tally overbuilt  industry  in  some  places)  and  kept 
the  Canadian  dollar  at  a  premium  despite  the 
gaping  trade  deficit.  Any  great  shrinking  in  the 
flow  would  have  grave  consequences  for  Canada, 
whose  living  standard  is  geared   to  it. 

RECOIL     FROM     A     REVOLUTION 

THEN  why,  the  American  may  ask,  is  the 
Canadian  ungrateful  for  his  neighbor's 
money?  That  question  begins  to  penetrate  the 
headlines  and  speeches,  to  strike  down  toward 
the  roots  of  a  continental  process  183  years  old. 

Since  Montgomery  and  Arnold  attacked  the 
walls  of  Quebec  on  New  Year's  Eve,  1775,  that 
process,  on  Canada's  side,  has  always  been  far 
more  psychological  than  economic.  It  is  built 
into  a  Canadian  psychology  often  dissected  but 
never  satisfactorily  explained. 

All  the  current  wrangles  of  the  border— trade, 
investment,  St.  Lawrence  Seaway  tolls,  Columbia 
River  electrical  power,  farm  surpluses  and  the 
rest— represent  for  us  Canadians  only  one  thing, 
precious  beyond  economic  calculation.  So  far  we 
have  been  unable  to  articulate  that  thing  clearly, 


IS  WHY    CANADIANS    ARE    TURNING    ANTI-AMERICAN 


have  produced  no  writer  to  put  ii  into  poetry 
and  myth   where  it  belongs.    Consequently  we 

are  compelled  to  hide  it  shvlv  undei  a  pallid 
word.  Canadianism. 

We  know  what  it  means  jus)  the  same.  The 
whole  problem  ol  the  border  today— as  always 
Mini  the  American  Revolution— is  thai  our 
neighbors  don't  know  what  it  means  and  won't 
bothei   to  find  out. 

I  he  psychological  phenomenon  ol  Canada, 
the  only  reason  for  the  modern  state,  the  only 
cement  strong  enough  to  hold  its  sprawling  mass 
together,  began  as  a  reaction  to  the  American 
Revolution.  The  dubious  embryo  ol  a  luture 
state  was  hurried  into  the  world  as  a  protest 
against  the  Revolution.  That  conflict  Eore- 
shadowed  the  Canadian  monarchy  as  surely  as 
n    foreshadowed    the    American   republic. 

At  the  start  Canada  was  nothing  more  nor 
less  than  an  unlikely  plan  to  build  a  British 
nation  across  the  continent,  but  that  plan  was 
doomed  by  the  nature  ol  geography  and  environ- 
ment. Canada  did  not  grow  into  a  British  nation. 
Ft  grew  into  a  nation  constitutionally  British, 
geographically  American,  but  wholly  Canadian. 

From    the   da\s   ol    tin     Ouebee    siege,    through 

the  War  of  1812,  tin  Fenian  raids,  the  Alaska 
boundary  dispute,  the  abortive  Reciprocity  elec- 
tion of  1911,  the  (lushing  Smoot  I  lawlev  tariffs 
of  the  'thirties,  and  now  the  economic  wrangles 
ol  the  Tillies,  the  abiding  danger  to  Canadianism 

lias   been  0111    friendly   neighbor    01    so  we   think. 

Even  though  the  neighbor  abandoned  the  old 
attempts  to  conquei  or  coerce  us.  his  attempts 
to  conciliate  us— and  above  all  his  wealth- 
were  dangerous  to  our  fust  Trail  growth  of 
nationalism.  It  seemed  at  one  time,  indeed, 
that  his  wealth  would  act  as  an  irresistible 
magnet  drawing  us  by  slow,  seductive  stages  into 
his  political  orbit. 

Having  resisted  that  pull,  we  find  the  neigh- 
bor not  only  buying  up  our  basic  resources  on 
a  gigantic  scale  but  loading  his  tarilf  so  that 
he  imports  mainly  the  raw  materials  he  needs 
and  bars  the  more  profitable  manufactured 
goods  we  would  like  to  sell.  This  is  important 
to  us  economically.  It  is  far  more  important  if, 
by  any  chance,  it  is  undermining  our  nationalism, 
as  Canadians  think. 

Our  real  fear,  today  as  yesterday,  is  that  some- 
how the  prodigy  built  across  the  continent  by 
a  handful  of  daring  men  against  all  the  dictates 
ol  geography— the  triumph  of  an  idea  within  an 
unnatural  East-West  economy— cannot  perma- 
nently endure  beside  the  giant.  In  this  Ca- 
nadian's  view,    the   old   danger   has   passed,    but 


only  during  the  present  generation  ol  our  almost 
unbelievable  growth  in  population,  in  wealth, 
and     (more   decisive)    in    national    feeling. 

Nevertheless,  given  oui  history  of  struggle 
against  almost  impossible  geographic  circum- 
stances-given, loo,  a  long  seiics  ol  sporadic 
American  pressures— it  will  not  surprise  any 
psychologist  to  find  the  Canadian  people  brittle 
and  resentful  whenevei  the  pressure  is  renewed, 
even  in  candid  economic  form  and  without  the 
leasi  enmity.  A  nation  in  our  middle  position 
between  the  American  and  British  giants  has 
invariably  resisted  the  immediate  pressure  of 
the  day  from  either  side.  At  present  it  is  re- 
sisting the  only  pressure  left,  that  from  the 
United    States. 

ATTENTION,     PLEASE 

WHAT  chiefly  infuriates  us,  however, 
is  not  so  much  the  economic  lunacy  ol 
a  neighbor  who  expects  to  sell  where  he  does 
not  buy,  but  his  stubborn  refusal  to  look  across 
the  border  and   try   to   understand    us. 

That  is  partly  out  fault,  I  suppose.  We  are 
not  an  interesting  people  to  outsiders,  apart 
from  the  Mounties  and  the  Eskimos,  two  rathei 
small  ethnic  groups.  We  have  no  international 
sex  appeal  and  no  South  American  revolutions 
to  provide  scenes  of  carnage'  on  the  front  pages. 
We  have  no  great  writer  to  express  the  Canadian 
Dream  and  are  horrified  by  thai  word.  Cod 
help  us,  we  don't   even  have  a  Canadian  flag. 

But  we  do  have  a  piece-  ol  real  estate  abso- 
lutely vital  to  American  defense  and  lying 
directly  in  Russia's  air  path  to  America.  We  do 
have,  on  and  under  this  land,  mineral  resources 
without  which  the  United  States  could  not  light 
any  war  and  other  resources  needed  to  support 
its  peacetime  economy. 

The  result  of  American  indifference  is  that 
the  affairs  of  countless  weaker  nations,  much 
less  important  to  the  United  Slates,  are  on  the 
American  front  pages  every  day  while  the  affairs 
that  constantly  convulse  Canada  are  seldom 
noticed. 

In  one  way  American  indilference  is  a  com- 
pliment to  us.  The  Canadians  are  taken  lor 
granted  as  good,  steady  neighbors.  They  seem 
to  be  God-fearing,  non-Communist,  competent 
folk.  They  pay  their  bills  and  therefore  can  be 
disregarded  as  one  disregards  the  family  in  the 
next-door  apartment.  If  high  intellectual  fences 
make  good  neighbors,  the  friendship  of  the 
border   is   certainly   safe. 

Unfortunately     the     neighborhood    of    North 


BY    BRUCE    HUTCHISON 


49 


America  is  not  that  simple.  As  Lester  Pearson 
once  said,  in  an  indiscreet  but  accurate  speech, 
the  old,  easy,  automatic  relations  of  the  border 
can  no  longer  be  taken  lor  granted.  Nor  can 
Canada— the  idea  within  the  economy— be  taken 
for  granted.  Canada  is  not  what  it  seems  to 
most  Americans.  In  a  few  years,  even  its  present 
blurred  image  will  be  obsolete  and  unrecogniz- 
able. What  the  American  people  must  under- 
stand if  they  are  to  judge  the  minor  squabbles 
of  today,  is  that  tomorrow  they  will  be  dealing 
not  with  a  small,  weak  people  but  with  one  of 
the  earth's  major  powers. 

Personally  I,  and  many  old-fashioned  Cana- 
dians, take  no  satisfaction  in  that  prospect,  since 
power  provides  more  kicks  than  ha'pence,  but 
it  is  a  prospect  we  cannot  escape.  The  rapid 
growth  of  our  population,  the  raw  stuff  of  power 
in  our  ground,  and  the  breakneck  expansion  of 
our  industry  must  make  Canada,  by  the  century's 
end,  a  nation  stronger  than  any  in  contemporary 
Europe.  Barring  some  cataclysm,  the  United 
States,  for  the  first  time  in  its  life,  will  find 
mother  giant  beside  it.  The  power  balance  of 
the  continent  is  shifting  perceptibly  northward. 

DULLES     TROUBLE 

ALREADY  the  United  States  is  finding 
that  the  half-grown,  inarticulate  giant  pos- 
sesses a  tongue,  not  of  culture  and  myth  but  of 
practical  politics.  It  is  finding,  too,  that  Canada 
has  interests  and  influence  far  outside  America. 

This  discovery  is  greatly  complicated  by  a 
purely  American  phenomenon,  Mr.  John  Foster 
Dulles.  In  considering  the  immediate  problem 
of  the  border  we  must  not  forget  that  Mr.  Dulles 
is  one  of  its  egregious  and  craggy  landmarks. 
Canadians  are  not  entitled  to  discuss  Mr.  Dulles 
as  the  American  Secretary  of  State.  They  are 
entitled  to  discuss  him  as  the  chief  architect  of 
a  foreign  policy  in  which  Canada  is  more  deeply 
enmeshed— by  geography  and  all  other  circum- 
stances—than any  other  foreign  state. 

It  must  first  be  noted  that  most  Canadians 
have  long  been  unofficial  Democrats,  because 
the  Democratic  party  has  generally  reduced 
American  tariffs  while  the  Republican  party  has 
raised  them  against  us.  Moreover,  the  Demo- 
cratic party's  foreign  policy  has  seemed  to  us 
more  successful  than  that  of  the  Eisenhower 
Administration. 

This  view  (or  prejudice)  alone  cannot  account 
lor  Canada's  present  attitude  toward  Mr.  Dulles 
and  all  the  forces  he  represents.  It  is  merely 
factual   to   say   that   an   overwhelming  majority 


of  Canadians,  including  all  their  leading  states- 
men, regard  Mr.  Dulles  as  an  unmitigated  dis- 
aster—a disaster  affecting  Canada  as  deeply  as 
it  affects  the  United  States. 

No  Canadian  government  can  say  these  things 
aloud,  of  course,  but  in  the  last  five  years  the 
largest  preoccupation  of  Canadian  diplomacy 
has  been  to  repair  Mr.  Dulles'  blunders,  as 
Canada  sees  them. 

It  was  Mr.  Pearson,  acting  as  the  honest 
broker  between  Washington  and  London,  who 
first  leaped  upon  Mr.  Dulles'  doctrine  of  massive 
retaliation  "by  means  and  at  places  of  our  own 
choosing,"  who  refused  to  join  the  project  of 
unleashing  Chiang,  and  who,  in  one  of  history's 
strangest  spectacles,  flew  to  the  United  Nations 
and  devised  the  rescue  of  American  and  British 
diplomacy  from  the  Suez  debacles. 

It  is  merely  factual  to  say  also  that  the  former 
and  present  governments  of  Canada  have  not 
trusted  either  the  wisdom  or  the  reliability  of 
Mr.  Dulles.  They  have  awaited  his  every  state- 
ment as  a  mountaineer  watches  the  slip  of  an 
avalanche. 

The  removal  of  Mr.  Dulles  might  not  alter 
American  policy  in  the  least,  for  all  we  know, 
but  it  would  remove  the  largest  single  friction 
on  the  border— the  symbol  and  sharp  point  of 
all  the  other  frictions.  It  would  give  the  United 
States  a  chance  to  re-establish  the  confidence  of 
its  friends  in  Canada  and  elsewhere.  We  Cana- 
dians doubt  that  the  thing  can  be  done  otherwise. 

BLOWS     STRUCK     IN     IGNORANCE 

AL  L  these  affairs  taken  together  have  pro- 
duced the  present  squabbles  but  they 
should  not  be  exaggerated  into  a  quarrel.  There 
is  no  quarrel,  except  in  a  few  excited  American 
newspapers  that  discovered  Canada  only  last 
night.  There  is  no  issue  which  will  not  yield 
to  intelligent  argument.  Certainly  there  is  no 
lack  of  realization  in  Canada  that  we  cannot 
afford  to  quarrel  with  the  giant  even  if  we 
wanted  to. 

But  there  can  be  no  intelligent  argument  and 
no  solution  of  any  issue  until  the  American 
people  themselves  (as  distinguished  from  some 
of  their  abler  officials)  adopt  a  new  attitude 
toward  their  closest  partner.  By  that  I  don't 
mean  that  the  present  attitude  is  unfriendly. 
It  is  rather  too  friendly,  in  assuming  that  ig- 
norant friendship  is  enough.  Friendship  of  that 
sort,  the  right  to  be  left  strictly  alone,  was  all 
that  Canada  sought  in  earlier,  simpler  times. 
It    is    not    enough    in    these    times    when    every 


50 


Win     CANADIANS    ARE    TURNING    ANTI-AMERICAN 


American  commercial  policy  directly  affects  Can- 
ada and  ever)  foreign  policy  involves  it  induce  tly. 

Canadians  ask  from  their  neighbor  the  old 
friendship,  plus  a  new  understanding  ol  their 
true  position,  their  strategic  importance,  their 
economic   problems,  and  then   Manifest  Destiny. 

II  the  American  people  would  pay  half  as 
much  attention  to  the  great  hind  mass  lying  be- 
side  them,  in  Russia's  path,  as  they  may  to  a 
score  ol  small,  neutral  countries  in  all  corners 
ol  the  world,  the  problems  ol  the  border  would 
soon  be  solved. 

They  will  be  solved  in  am  case.  I  am  con- 
vinced, bul  with  unnecessary  dela\  and  difficulty. 
They  musl  be  solved  in  the  United  States'  own 
selfish  interests  il  for  no  othei  reason.  For  on 
a  border  far  from  the  current  centers  of  trouble, 
the  foreign  policy  of  the  United  States  is 
uniquely   balanced  and   tested. 

Canada,  a  relatively  weak  country  unable 
to  defend  itsell  from  the  giant,  has  always  been 
the  supreme  test  of  American  morality,  a  test 
visible  to  the  entire  world.  A  Canadian  is  bound 
to  sa\  that  the  test,  despite  certain  lapses,  has 
been  magnificently  met.   No  great  power  in  the 


world's  history  has  ever  treated  a  small  neighbor 
as  well  as  the  modern  United  States  has  treated 
Canada.  Our  survival  is  die  proof  ol  that 
treatment. 

It  must  also  be  said  that  any  other  sort  of 
treatment  would  instantl)  ruin  the  United  States 
as  the  leader  ol  the  free  world.  II  the  United 
States  mistreated  Canada,  its  most  intimate 
friend,  in  any  immoral  fashion,  no  other  nation 
anywhere  would  ever  trust  the  United  States 
again,   about    anything. 

The  American  people  have  understood  that 
lac  i  intuitivel)  and  in  modern  times  most  of 
their  blows  against  Canada  have  been  delivered 
in  ignorance— almost  in  absent-mindedness— not 
in  malice.  But  intuition  will  no  longer  serve, 
mulct  radically  changing  conditions  of  world 
power.  For  the  protection  of  its  foreign  policy 
at  huge,  its  vital  strategic  interests  in  North 
America,  its  direct  commercial  interests  in  a 
huge,  lopsided  trade  across  the  border,  the 
United  States— preferably  without  Mr.  Dulles- 
must  make  a  re-appraisal  of  Canada.  It  need 
not  be  agonizing,  in  his  fashion,  but  it  cannot 
safely  be  delayed. 


RICHMOND  LATTIMORE 


THE   ACADEMIC   OVERTURE 


black  robes,  hoods  gold  scarlet  purple,  bright  heads 

and  old  beards,  the  young  pacers  and  the  bumbling  feet  of  age 

unite  now  under  ceremonial  musics,  or  gaudeamus. 

Let  us  rejoice  then  in  our  prime,  while  how  well  still 
the  gown  molds  the  young  wrestler's  arms,  how  comely 
blond  on  black  as  youth  models  the  robes  of  learning. 

Somewhere  about  the  middle  of  the  procession 
I  thought,  too,  how  our  autumnal  heraldries 
glow  upon  the  bulks  and  husks  of  the  elders 

to  paint  a  rubric,  red  and  black,  on  the  folios 
of  forever;  while  all  these  stalks  strengths  flowers 
shall  be,  in  some  sense,  blown  heads  and  florist's  litter 

swept  into  bins,  and  too  soon.   Or  would  it  be  rather 

that  the  dignity,  the  enactment,  the  ceremony, 

the  time  in   June,  is  eternity  established?   And  through  it 

unchanged   brush    the   light   feet   and   young  voices   behind  where  ponderously 
the  brasses  blare  and  basses  dee  ply  deliver  the  eternal 
gaudeamus  igitur  of  the  elder  students. 


Harper's  Magazine,  May  1958 


Hill  Climbing  by  Boat 


By   JOYCE   WARREN 

Drawings  by  Barrie  McDowell 

A  fleet  of  remodeled  canal  barges,  cruising 

through  the  lush  meadows  of  England,  now 

offer  one  of  the  pleasantest  (and  least 

strenuous)  means  of  sight-seeing  yet  devised. 

MY  HUSBAND  Charles  and  I  are  fond 
of  traveling  by  water,  so  it  pleased  us, 
the  first  time  we  went  to  England  together,  that 
we  arrived  in  London  backwards  by  boat.  Tower 
Bridge,  gloriously  floodlit,  was  raised  to  admit 
us,  and  as  we  sailed  stern  first  between  its  piers 
(our  boat  being  too  large  to  turn  around  within 
the  confines  of  the  Pool),  I  wondered  how  many 
other  men  had  received  so  pleasantly  bizarre  a 
welcome  from  the  country  of  their  in-laws. 
Actually  Charles  had  been  to  England  before: 
he  was  posted  there  during  World  War  II,  sta- 
tioned at  a  beautiful  house  in  Warwickshire 
named  Newbold  Revel,  where,  in  different  and 
better  clays,  my  aunts  had  gone  to  parties  and 
balls.  Charles  and  I  met  at  Newbold  in  1944, 
and  last  summer  we  went  to  visit  there  again. 
We  weren't  able  to  make  the  journey  backwards, 
but  we  did  go  by  boat.  We  sailed  in  the  Mabel 
by  way  of  the  Coventry  Canal. 


The  Mabel  is  a  canal  Narrow  Boat,  built  to 
carry  coal,  and  now  converted  to  carry  passen- 
gers. She  is  one  of  several  holiday  craft  that  ply 
the  inland  waterways  of  England  during  the 
summer  months.  Four  private  companies,*  op- 
erating, so  far  as  we  were  able  to  ascertain,  one 
pair  of  boats  apiece,  organize  one-  and  two-week 
cruises.  Their  passengers  five,  sleep,  and  eat  on 
board.  In  addition,  a  government  organization, 
British  Waterways,  sponsors  tours  in  which  pas- 
sengers ride  boats  in  the  daytime  but  sleep  in 
hotels  at  night,  a  system  that,  though  it  sounds 
cleaner  (canal  Narrow  Boats  do  not  come 
equipped  with  bathtubs  or  showers),  is  consider- 
ably more  costly. 

Since  these  canal  holidays  were  started  some 
five  or  six  years  ago,  they  have  become  extremely 
popular.  When  Charles  and  I  wrote  in  February 
for  July  reservations,  only  one  company,  the 
Inland  Navigators,  was  able  to  accommodate  us, 
and  we  had  to  cable  our  confirmation.  Thus  it 
was  that  on  July  20,  1957,  we  went  to  Braunston 
Junction,  seven  miles  south  of  Rugby,  to  join 
the  Mabel  and  Malvern.  Traditionally,  Narrow 
Boats  travel  in  pairs,  the  leader  (in  our  case, 
the  Mabel)  containing  a  diesel,  which  tows  an 
engineless  "butty"  (the  Malvern). 

It  was  raining  heavily,  and  as  we  staggered 
along  the  towpath  with  our  luggage,  I  had  some 
last-minute    misgivings:    a    marriage    has    to    be 

*  The  Inland  Navigators,  Banbury,  Oxfordshire; 
The  Inland  Waterway  Cruising  Co.,  Braunston,  War- 
wickshire; Waterborne  Tours,  Penkridge,  Stafford- 
shire;  New-Way  Holidays,  Oxford  Mews,  London. 


r-,9 


HILL    CLIMBING    BY    BOAT 


soundly  based  to  withstand  the  confining  <>l  its 
partners  in  a  small  space  foi  long,  while  it  rains 
and  rains  outdoors.  As  ii  turned  out,  however, 
it  hardly  rained  at  all,  once  the  first  big  storm  was 
over,  and  the  living-space  on  board  the  Mabel 
and  Malvern,  though  small,  is  so  well  arranged 
that  hoik   ol  the  passengers  Eelt  damped. 


THE  Inland  Navigators  belongs  to  Mi. 
and  Mis.  Michael  Rogers,  two  young  archi- 
tects who  not  only  designed  the  remodeled 
Mabel,  bul  also  did  much  ol  the  rebuilding.  "The 
Mabel  is  12  feet  long,  and,  like  all  Narrow 
Boats,  seven  feet  in  beam,  intended  to  fit  snugly 
into  locks  seven  Eeel  two  inches  wide,  on  water- 
ways that,  except  at  locks  and  bridges,  are 
nominally  forty-five  feet  wide  at  the  surface, 
twenty  five  feet  wide  at  the  bottom,  and  five  leet 
deep.  Built  in  !!).'>()  as  a  horse-drawn  craft,  the 
Mabel  was  equipped  with  an  engine  two  years 
later.  She  could  carry  twenty-five  tons  of  coal  in 
her  open  hold,  to  the  rear  of  which  were  two 
tiny  cabins,  one  containing  the  diesel  and  the 
other  her  skipper's  living  quarters. 

The  Rogers  bought  her  in  1948,  and  for  a  year 
following  their  graduation  from  the  Architec- 
tural Association  in  London,  worked  in  the  coal 
business  with  her,  calling  for  loads  at  midland 
collieries  and  delivering  them  to  wharves  up  and 
down  the  canals.  In  1!)52,  they  returned  to  Lon- 
don and  to  office  work,  but  they  devoted  the 
weekends  and  vacations  of  the  next  two  years  to 
turning  the  Mabel  into  a  passenger-carrying 
craft.  She  now  has  a  well  deck,  a  saloon,  and 
two  double  and  two  single  cabins.  Each  cabin  is 
fitted  with  electric  light,  running  hot  and  cold 
fresh  water,  sliding  windows— a  sign  says,  "Please 
do  not  climb  out"— fitted  carpets,  and  six-foot 
berths  with  loam-rubber  mattresses. 

The  Rogers  hired  the  butty  boat  Malvern  from 
Michael  Streat,  a  former  newspaperman  who  is 
now  the  owner  of  The  Inland  Waterway  Cruis- 
ing Company.  The  Malvern,  lacking  an  engine, 
rides  higher  in  the  water  than  the  Mabel,  so  that 
her  roof  is  the  best  place  to  sit,  provided  one 
does  not  forget  to  lie  down  flat  at  bridge  ap- 
proaches. The  Malvern  includes  a  well  deck, 
three  double  cabins,  a  dining  saloon,  and  a  gal- 
ley. Six  passengers  travel  in  each  boat;  a  crew 
of  lour  is  distributed  between  them;  and 
Miranda,  a  handsome  Dalmatian  owned  by  the 
mate,  shares  quarters  with   the  engine. 

Charles  and  I  had  expected  that  our  skip- 
per,   Michael    Rogers,    and    his    crew   would    be 


middle-aged,  and  the  passengers  would  be  young. 
In  fact  it  turned  out  to  be  more  the  other  way 
around.  Sailing  with  us  were  a  retired  army  man 
and  his  wife,  a  librarian  and  his  family,  a  de- 
partment store  buyer,  two  students,  and  two 
nurses.  (One  of  the  nurses,  a  city  girl,  found 
the  casualness  ol  life  in  rural  Warwickshire 
shocking.  "Don't  they  leave  the  sheep  out  late," 
sin  e\<  laimed.)  As  lor  the  crew,  it  was  composed 
ol  three  lively  and  highly  competent  young 
women,  all  ol  whom  appeared  to  share  Michael 
Rogers'  willingness  to  work  from  dawn  to  dark 
seven  days  a  week  from  May  to  October,  and 
rather  longer  during  the  rest  of  the  year  when 
repairs,  repainting,  and  planning  must  be  clone. 
and  cheerfully  to  perform  all  kinds  ol  chores. 
There  can  be  lew  passenger  vessels  afloat  in 
which  the  skipper  and  mate  navigate,  wash 
dishes,   polish   brassware,   and   scrub  decks. 

This  quaint  attitude  toward  work— as  if  it 
were  pleasure-becomes  understandable  when 
one  actually  travels  on  the  "cut,"  as  a  canal  is 
called.  Once  aboard,  you  are  no  longer  a  lands- 
man with  a  landsman's  ideas.  You  are  in  an- 
other, and  quite  different,  element,  in  which 
time  seems  to  become  a  matter  of  deliberate 
leisure  rather  than  deliberate  speed. 

We  had  not  supposed  that  on  so  narrow  a 
waterway  we  would  be  treated  the  way  people 
the  world  over  are  treated  the  moment  it  is 
observed  that  they  are  afloat,  but  we  were. 
Everyone  was  our  friend.  Dour  persons  dis- 
consolately fishing,  and  forced  to  withdraw  their 
lines  from  the  water  as  we  crept  by,  ceased  to 
be  dour  and  smiled.  Tiny  cars  stopped  on 
bridges,  and  their  occupants,  sitting  puritanically 
upright  as  people  must  in  British  cars,  squirmed 
about  until  heads  and  waving  arms  emerged. 
Children  ran  down  cottage  gardens  to  where 
they  could  be  closer  to  the  magic  that  was  our- 
selves. On  the  edge  of  a  small  town,  we  passed 
behind  a  dowdy-looking  factory.  Suddenly  the 
dirty  windows  were  filled  with  girls'  faces. 

"What  do  you  do  in  there?"  we  asked. 

"Make  pretty  hats!"   they  cried. 

A  Narrow  Boat  holiday  is  not  a  holiday  for 
anyone  with  a  weight  problem.  We  ate  excel- 
lently, six  times  a  day:  early  morning  tea,  break- 
fast, mid-morning  coffee,  luncheon,  afternoon 
tea,  and  dinner;  there  was  also  a  fully  equipped 
bar  at  which,  oddly,  one  purchased  one's  break- 
fast fruit  juice.  Nor  is  it  considered  cheap. 
English  friends  were  horrified  when  we  told  them 
that  our  week  on  the  Mabel  had  cost  us  thirty 
guineas  ($90.51),  although  this  included  every- 
thing except  drinks.    It  is  the  Rogers'  opinion, 


BY    JOYCE    WARREN 


53 


however,  that  they  must  provide  the  meals  and 
services  of  a  first-class  hotel  it  they  arc  to  attract 
the  kind  of  passengers  they  want,  i.e.,  people  who 
will  find  leisure  sufficiently  rewarding  in  itself, 
without  the  added  charms  of  organized  enter- 
tainment. "We  used  to  lie  awake  at  night," 
Streat  told  us,  "wondering  what  we  would  do  if 
the  passengers  turned  out  to  be  frightful,  but 
so  far  they  never  have  been,  and  we've  always 
taken  everybody  we  had  room  for." 

The  high  standard  of  comfort  aboard  the 
Mabel  and  Malvern  is  not  common  to  Narrow 
Boats.  Canal  folk  who  carry  coal  and  timber  still 
live  much  the  way  they  did  in  the  eighteenth 
century,  sleeping,  eating,  and  raising  families 
in  cabins  twelve  feet  long  and  seven  feet  wide. 
To  the  left  of  the  doorway,  in  the  stern,  is  a 
cooking  stove  and  next  to  it  a  tall  cupboard  set 
at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees  to  the  wall.  The 
door  of  this  is  hinged  so  that  when  opened  it 
forms  a  table  for  meals.  A  bench  along  the 
opposite  wall  provides  a  bed,  and  a  second,  wider 
bench,  sometimes  screened  off  by  a  pair  of  lace 
curtains,  lies  athwart  the  forward  end  of  the 
cabin.  The  middle  part  of  this  bed  is  hinged, 
so  that  it  can  be  lifted  up  to  provide  access  to 
the  door  into  the  hold,  which  can  be  opened 
when  there  is  no  coal  being  carried.  Cupboards 
are  built  into  the  walls  above  it.  One  family 
we  met  told  us,  amid  giggles,  of  a  problem  on 
board  another  pair  of  boats  where  lived  a  father, 
mother,  and  seven  little  children.  Next  week  five 
older   brothers   and   sisters,   now   boarding   at   a 


Canal  Children's  Hostel  in  London,  were  clue 
home  for  the  summer  holidays,  and  there  would 
be  fourteen  to  sleep  in  the  two  twelve-loot  cabins, 
one  partly  filled  by  the  diesel  motor. 

Most  canal  people  are  the  descendants  of  canal 
people— a  boatman  usually  isn't  able  to  persuade 
a  shore-raised  girl  to  marry  him.  The  majority 
of  them  cannot  read  or  write,  but  they  want 
their  children  to  learn,  and  families  are  willing 
to  separate  so  that  their  youngsters  can  live  at 
special  hostels  from  which  they  attend  school. 
The  children  do  not  like  coming  off  the  water 
any  better  than  their  parents  do  (one  retired 
Narrow  Boatman  now  makes  his  home  in  a  dou- 
ble-decker bus  parked  on  the  canal  bank,  where 
the  view  is  familiar  and  the  quarters  must  seem 
palatial).  But  canal  children's  hostels  have  their 
compensations:  a  bed  to  oneself,  for  example, 
and  different   clothes   to  wear  at  night. 

On  canal  boats,  everyone  old  enough  to  do  so 
helps  with  the  work.  One  job  that  seems  fre- 
quently to  fall  to  a  young  member  of  a  family 
is  cycling  along  the  towpath  of  the  "pound,"  the 
stretch  of  water  between  two  locks,  and  prepar- 
ing the  lock  ahead.  First,  the  water-level  inside 
the  lock  must  be  made  the  same  as  the  level  of 
the  pound  the  boats  are  on.  Then  the  heavy 
gates  are  opened,  one  boat  passes  inside  (there 
is  a  two-inch  clearance),  the  gates  are  closed,  and 
the  water  in  the  lock  is  raised  or  lowered  to 
match  the  level  of  the  water  in  the  pound  ahead. 
These  changes  are  achieved  by  manipulating 
sliding   panels,    called    lock-paddles,    which    are 


One  retired  boatman  now  makes  his  home  in  a  double-decker  bus. 


54 


HILL    CLIMBING    BV    BOAT 


raised  or  lowered  by  means  of  a  crank  handle 
(ailed  a  windlass— the  Narrow  Boatman's  badge. 
When  not  in  use,  the  windlass  is  worn  in  the 
small  of  the  skipper's— or  the  bi<  \<  lr  boy's— back, 
tucked  into  the  belt  of  the  trousers.  The  locks 
we  went  through  had  lifts  of  about  seven  feet. 

CASTLES    AND    FLOWERS 

LOCKS  mostly  run  in  series,  a  group  of 
three  or  four  together,  and  although  some 
are  actually  in  steps,  with  the  top  gate  of  one 
acting  as  the  bottom  gate  ol  another,  there  is 
more  commonly  a  pound  a  lew  hunched  yards 
to  a  mile  long  between  them.  Where  the  pound 
is  short,  the  butty  boat  is  usually  towed  along 
it  by  hand.  We  watched  one  coal-boat  skipper 
and  his  wife  at  this,  and  noticed  that  there 
seemed  to  be  a  knack  about  towing,  a  little  like 
that  ol  ringing  a  heaw  bell— the  pull  on  the  rope 
w.is  not  so  much  a  matter  of  strength  as  of 
timing  and  steadiness.  The  couple  we  saw  leaned 
heavily  against  the  towrope,  their  bodies  at  a 
steep  angle  to  the  ground.  They  walked  very 
close  to  each  other,  the  woman  behind  the  man, 
their  steps  tiny,  measured,  and  graceful,  as  if 
they  were  treading  a  minuet  in  time  with  the 
spring  of  the  stretched  rope. 

Cranking  up  lock  paddles  is  also  a  matter  of 
knack.  I  couldn't  move  them  at  all,  but  quite 
small  boys  off  the  coal-boats  seemed  to  have  no 
trouble.  At  the  last  of  a  series  of  locks,  the  boy 
and  his  bicycle  would  come  aboard  again,  and 
the  bicycle  would  be  hooked  by  its  handlebars 
over  a  plank  that  runs  fore  and  aft  along  the 
center  of  the  coal  pile.  Normally  the  man  of  the 
family  handles  the  motor  boat  and  his  wife  steers 
the  butty  (an  unmarried  man  must  hire  a  mate 
to  help  him),  but  sometimes  children  are  allowed 
to  maneuver  the  boats,  an  operation  not  as  sim- 
ple as  it  sounds.  Canals  are  apt  to  be  very  shal- 
low at  the  sides,  and  Narrow  Boats,  which  draw 
nearly  the  full  five  feet  when  loaded,  must  stay 
as  near  the  center  of  the  channel  as  they  can. 
At  bends  in  the  waterway,  a  pair  of  boats  needs 
the  entire  width  of  the  canal,  and  where  ap- 
proaches are  blind,  the  skipper  warns  of  his 
presence  by  blowing  on  a  small,  asthmatic- 
sounding  huntsman's   horn. 

As  soon  as  a  coal  boat  ties  up  for  the  night, 
cleaning  and  scrubbing  usually  begin.  Decks  and 
cabin  roofs  are  swabbed  down,  brass  fitments 
are  polished  to  a  shine,  and  spotless  socks  and 
shirts  are  hung  to  dry  above,  but  not  very  far 
above,  the  black  cargo. 

Canal  folk  love  bright  colors,  highly-polished 


brasswork,  and  gay  decoration.  The  Narrow 
Boat's  hull  is  tarred  black,  but  the  tiller,  the 
cabin,  and  the  posts  that  support  the  tarpaulins 
covering  the  hold  in  wet  weather  are  painted 
ultramarine,  crimson,  pink,  green,  and  white. 
These  are  decorated  with  leaves  and  (lowers, 
especially  roses,  and  with  fairy-tale  castles  of 
oriental  flavor,  said  to  have  been  introduced  by 
immigrant  Carpathian  gypsies.  Painting  these 
flowers  and  castles  is  the  one  remaining  English 
lolk  art.  An  expert  can  do  it  quickly,  in  a  kind 
of  painter's  shorthand.  The  main  design  is 
painted  in,  and  individual  nourishes  are  added 
after  the  lust  part  is  almost  dry.  The  boatman's 
devotion  to  flowers  and  castles  is  understandable 
—few  canal  men  are  ever  likely  to  own  a  garden, 
or  a  house    that  has  too  much  space. 

Most  Narrow  Boats  are  repainted  every  two- 
and-a-half  years,  a  job  that  may  take  the  owner 
as  long  as  a  month,  since  decoration  must  be 
added  not  only  to  the  outside  of  the  craft,  but 
to  the  inside  of  the  cabin,  to  seat-boards,  and  to 
such  equipment  as  bowls,  teapots,  and  the  big 
cans  of  fresh  water  that  are  kept  on  the  cabin 
roof.  This  roof  acts  as  a  combined  fair-weather 
nursery  and  dog  kennel,  and  from  it  rises  a 
stovepipe,  attached  by  a  polished  brass  chain. 
When  a  boat  must  pass  under  a  low  bridge,  the 
stovepipe  has  to  be  taken  down  (sometimes  the 
tarpaulin  posts  and  the  baby  have  to  come  down 
too),  and  the  chain  prevents  the  pipe  from  fall- 
ing overboard.  Close  to  the  stovepipe,  on  almost 
every  roof  we  saw,  was  a  carefully  tended  gera- 
nium plant  in  a  pot,  or  a  jar  of  flowers. 

THE  Mabel's  crew  was  careful  to  see  that  our 
boats  did  not  interfere  in  any  way  with  com- 
mercial traffic.  Time  is  money  to  a  coal  boat, 
and  a  delay  at  locks  may  mean  arrival  at  a  des- 
tination too  late  to  unload  cargo  that  night,  or 
even  that  weekend.  There  is  considerable  com- 
petition between  one  canal  family  and  the  next, 
each  trying  to  make  better  time.  Feuds  have 
been  started  by  a  boatman  rash  enough  to  pole 
past  a  sleeping  rival  in  the  night  in  an  effort  to 
beat  him  to  the  next  series  of  locks. 

There  are  still  a  few  horse-drawn  craft  on  the 
canals.  We  met  one— the  animal  looked  so  old 
and  skinny  it  did  not  seem  as  if  it  could  last 
much  longer.*  A  woman  said:  "It  was  a  big  mis- 
lake  giving  up  the  horses.  We  never  had  any 
trouble  with  them,  not  like  these  diesels."  The 
marks  of  horse  traffic  are  everywhere.   The  abut- 

*  Since  writing  this,  we  have  heard  that  in  No- 
vember 1957  the  last  canal  horse  died  of  pneumonia, 
after  falling  into  the  cut  on  a  cold  day. 


BY    JOYCE    WARREN 


55 


ments  of  the  arched  bridges  have  grooves  half 
an  inch  deep  worn  by  the  towropes,  even  in 
places  where  an  iron-shod  guard  has  been  added. 
At  some  of  the  locks  there  were  little  footbridges 
across  the  water  just  below  the  bottom  gates, 
each  consisting  of  two  parts  cantilevered  out 
from  the  banks  so  that  the  boats'  towropes 
could  slip  between.  A  sign  outside  an  inn  read: 
"Licenced  to  sell  Beer,  Wine,  Spirits,  Music,  and 
Singing.  Good  Accommodation  for  boat  horses. 
Straw  provided." 

On  a  well-maintained  cut,  loaded  Narrow 
Boats  can  travel  at  approximately  three  miles  an 
hour,  a  fifty-foot  towline  linking  motor  and 
butty  together.  Empty,  they  travel  with  the 
motor  and  butty  snubbed  up  close,  and  can  make 
about  a  mile  an  hour  more.  The  attainable 
speed  is  largely  controlled,  however,  by  the  width 
of  a  particular  section  of  canal  and  its  state  of 
repair.  A  canal  boat  pushes  water  ahead  of  her, 
and  if  the  cut  is  silted  up  and  weed-choked,  the 
water  level  may  be  affected  as  much  as  a  mile 
ahead.  We  could  see  the  pile-up  best  when  we 
passed  a  concrete-faced  section  of  the  bank.  Op- 
posite Mabel's  prow,  the  concrete  was  wet  to  an 
inch  above  the  moss  line,  but  opposite  her  stern, 
two  inches  of  mossy  concrete  showed;  thus  we 
were  continuously  climbing  a  hill  of  three  inches 
in  every  seventy  feet.  Try  to  go  faster,  and  all 
that  happens  is  that  the  propeller  pulls  water 
out  from  under  the  stern,  increasing  the  slope, 
and  producing  very  little  increase  in  speed.  A 
canal  boat  must  move  past  the  water  in  the 
canal,  not  drive  it  ahead. 

CONSTABLE    COUNTRY 

ONLY  the  first  part  of  the  Mabel's  route 
was  through  commercially  traveled  and 
well-kept-up  canals;  the  rest  lay  along  neglected 
waterways  almost  unknown  except  to  boatmen. 
Charles  and  I  had  supposed  that  we  would  find 
central  England  overpopulated,  with  dormitory 
towns  and  housing  projects  stretching  from  one 
historic  shrine  to  the  next.  But  morning  after 
morning  we  awoke  to  a  remote  world— those  lush 
meadows  and  dark  woodlands  Constable  was  so 
fond  of  painting.  One  may  think  of  canals  as 
straight  thoroughfares,  but  many  English  ones 
wind  like  rivers— the  early  navigators  worked 
around  obstacles,  rather  than  through  or  over 
them,  whenever  they  could. 

On  several  mornings  I  went  walking  along  the 
meandering,  little-used  towpaths  overgrown  with 
wild  rhubarb  and  old-fashioned  flowers— goose- 
berry pudding,  ladies'-bedstraw,  meadow  crane's 


.  .  .  Inside  the  Mabel  .  .  . 

bill.  It  was  easy  to  keep  ahead  of  the  Mabel— 
her  average  daily  run  was  about  thirteen  miles, 
and  for  hours  I  saw  no  sign  of  her.  When  I  felt 
I  had  fought  the  swampy  ground  long  enough, 
I  would  climb  up  on  a  bridge  and  wait  for  the 
boats.  Ten  or  fifteen  minutes  before  the  Mabel 
and  Malvern  reached  me,  I  would  usually  see 
them,  apparently  moving  across  the  middle  of  a 
distant  green  meadow.  The  Mabel  would  swing 
close  to  the  towpath  at  my  bridge,  her  engine 
coughing  politely,  and  I  would  step  back  on 
board  as  she  passed. 

The  diesel  made  very  little  noise,  and  our 
progress  was  so  quiet  that  we  were  often  almost 
on  top  of  the  coot,  swans,  and  diving  water  rats 
before  we  disturbed  them.  Off  a  moor  hen  would 
bustle,  her  head  jerking  rhythmically  back  and 
forth.  A  plant  we  took  to  be  water  arum  seemed 
to  curtsy  to  us  as  the  Mabel's  wash  rose  and  fell 
on  the  stalks. 

Just  as  fascinating,  I  think,  as  the  natural 
scenery  of  the  canals  (and  the  place-names: 
Stewponey  Wharf,  Sheepwash  Staunch,  Pluck's 
Gutter,  Bumble-hole  Bridge)  is  the  solid  and 
solemn  beauty  of  the  architecture.  The  builders 
of  the  canals  had  strictly  utilitarian  aims.  Their 
aqueducts  and  bridges,  tunnels,  ramps  and  steps, 
lock-paddles,  bollards  and  balance  beams  were 
made  not  to  look  at  but  to  work  with  and  to 
last.  Most  of  the  bridges  we  saw  were  made  of 
brick,  now  well  covered  with  gray  or  gray-blue 
lichen.  As  the  brick  weathers  and  crumbles, 
patches  of  lichen  are  carried  away,  and  the  warm 
red  shows  through.  Even  the  inns  are  out  of 
this  same  austere  and  satisfying  mold. 

Canal  construction  has   been  known   in   Eng- 


5(» 


HILL    CLIMBING    BY    BOAT 


land  for  centuries  (the  Fossdyke  Canal  in  Lin- 
colnshire, original!.)  built  by  the  Romans  to  carry 
wheal,  was  scoured  out  h\  Henry  I  in  1121),  but 
the  idea  did  not  take  hold  of  the  imagination 
of  the  country  ur  til  1761.  That  year,  fames 
Brindley,  a  brilliant  and  almost  illiterate  engi- 
neer, built  a  canal  from  Worsley  to  Manchester 
at  the  request  of  a  rich  duke,  whose  name,  ap- 
propriately, was  Bridgewater.  Fortunately  for 
the  British,  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater  had  been 
disappointed  in  love,  and  he  drowned  his  dis- 
appointment in  work  on  his  estates.  The  Duke 
owned  "a  large  mountain  ol  coal"  which  it  had 
hitherto  been  uneconomical  for  him  to  mine 
because  ol  transportation  difficulties.  Brindley 
overcame  these  with  ten  miles  of  navigable 
waterways,  four-and-a-half  feet  deep. 

The  Bridgewater  canal  had  no  locks,  but  it 
had  aqueduct  bridges  over  roads  and  rivers,  and 
it  convinced  [osiah  Wedgwood,  among  others, 
that  canals  were  worth  spending  time  and  money 
on.  Wedgwood  had  been  subjected  to  enormous 
losses  from  breakage  on  the  china  he  shipped  by 
packhorse,  and  he  himseli  cut  the  first  sod  of 
the  Grand  Trunk,  now  known  as  the  Trent  and 
Mersey,  a  Brindley  canal  that,  when  it  was  fin- 
ished, ran  for  1  tO  miles  and  had  160  aqueducts, 
109  road  bridges,  75  locks,  and  5  tunnels.  A  later 
engineer  built  a  canal  that  linked  the  manufac- 
turing districts  of  West  Yorkshire  and  South 
Lancashire,  lifting  boats  the  whole  way  over  the 
Pennine  mountain  chain.  Where  a  boat  had  to 
go  through  a  tunnel  not  wide  enough  for  a  tow-- 
path, it  was  propelled  on  its  way  by  legging— 
two  men  lay  on  their  backs  on  board  and 
"walked"   the   tunnel   walls. 

The  canal  boom  lasted  for  approximately 
eighty  years.  Then  the  railroads  killed  it.  Ironi- 
cally, the  early  railroad  men  learned  their  job 
on  canal  construction.  It  was  the  canal  men  who 
first  thought  of  avoiding  grade  crossings  by  over- 
passes and  underpasses  for  roads,  and  of  main- 
taining levels  by  cutting  through  hills,  by  tun- 
neling, and  by  ruilding  embankments  across 
depressions,  with  culverts  and  bridges  for  cross- 
ing streams.  The  word  "navvy"  for  a  railroad 
laborer  comes   from  navigator. 

After  the  London  to  Birmingham  Railway 
opened  in  1838,  the  railroad  companies  began 
steadily  buying  out  the  canal  companies.  By  the 
time  the  railways  themselves  were  nationalized 
in  1948,  some  two  thousand  miles  of  inland 
waterways— almost  the  whole  of  the  existing  sys- 
tem—became national  property  too. 

The  British  government  has  now  set  up  a 
Transport  Commission  with  a  Waterway  Section 


with  its  own  Narrow  Boats  (painted  blue  and 
yellow,  and  cither  without  roses  and  castles  at 
all  or  with  a  lew  dec  alcomania  decorations).  It 
is  also  making  some  effort  to  weed  the  canals 
more  efficiently— a  job  that  until  last  summer 
was   always   done   by   hand. 

BUILT-IN    TRANQUILIZERS 

OPINION  is  divided  over  the  wisdom 
of  using  the  canals  for  commercial  trans- 
port. No  one  knows  how  long  the  official  spon- 
sorship will  last.  The  industrial  map  of  Britain 
has  changed  since  Brindley's  clay,  and  the  courses 
ol  many  canals  no  longer  follow  important  trade 
routes.  On  the  other  hand,  costs  are  lower  on 
water  than  they  arc  on  road  or  rail.  For  certain 
types  of  non-perishable  matter  such  as  coal,  sand, 
bricks,  and  timber,  speed  is  less  important,  in  a 
country  where  distances  are  relatively  small, 
than  a  steady  flow.  For  fragile  articles,  as  Wedg- 
wood knew,  water  transport  is  the  safest  of  all. 

One  proposed  use  for  the  canals  which  has  met 
with  widespread  approval  is  that  they  should  be 
turned  into  elongated  National  Parks.  If  the 
waterways  can  be  kept  in  shape,  the  British  peo- 
ple will  never  need  tranquilizers— here  are  hun- 
dreds ol  miles  of  them  already  built  into  the 
lovely  Midland  countryside.  This  is  the  aspect 
that  is  so  attractive  to  holiday-boat  passengers— 
approximately  a  third  of  them,  Michael  Rogers 
told  us,  come  back  for  a  second  trip. 

The  last  part  of  our  journey  was  on  Wedg- 
wood's Trent  and  Mersey  Canal,  and  it  ended 
at  the  little  town  of  Stone,  in  Staffordshire.  We 
came  ashore  feeling  overfed,  underwashed,  com- 
pletely rested,  and  in  that  euphoric  state  in 
which  one  might  well  be  wearing,  instead  of 
walking  shoes,  a  small  puffy  cloud  on  each  foot. 
(When  I  remarked  on  this  to  Charles,  he  said 
his  walking  shoes  felt  different  too— they  had 
been  put  away  wet  under  his  bunk,  and  their 
soles  now  had  a  thin  coating  of  mold.) 

Later,  friends  in  Edinburgh  asked  us  about 
Newbold  Revel.  We  told  them  it  had  been 
turned  into  a  school.  A  fluttery  nun  had  come 
to  ask  why  we  were  trespassing  on  the  front 
terrace  before  breakfast— she  did  not  think  she 
could  admit  us  to  the  house  without  the  permis- 
sion of  the  Sister  Superior.  Unromantitally,  that 
is  all  we  remember.  Whenever  we  try  to  think 
about  Newbold  Revel,  all  that  comes  to  mind 
are  the  canals:  those  wonderful  works  of  eight- 
eenth-century man  by  which  boats  climb  moun- 
tains, cross  bridges  over  roads  and  rivers,  and 
disappear  into  the  sides  of  hills. 


Harper's  Magazine,  May  1958 


Leona  Train  Rienow 


LAMENT 


FOR  MINNESOTA 

One  Hundred  Years  of  Pillage 


WITH  the  celebration  of  Minnesota's 
first  hundred  years  of  statehood,  on 
May  11,  1958,  Minnesotans  have  established  a 
record  at  which  all  the  world  may  marvel.  No- 
where else  on  earth  has  so  rich  a  territory  been 
so  efficiently  pillaged  in  so  short  a  time.  Today 
Minnesota's  trees  are  second  growth,  its  minerals 
second  class,  and  vast  areas  of  its  farmlands  are 
submarginal,  burned-out  soil. 

When  Minnesota  entered  the  Union  it 
boasted  natural  wealth  that  staggered  the  imag- 
ination. Despite  at  least  a  century  of  active  fur 
trapping— first  by  the  French,  then  by  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company  (whose  fur-scraping  sheds 
at  Grand  Marais  employed  hundreds  of  white 
men  and  Indian  squaws),  and  finally  by  John 
Jacob  Astor— the  state's  solid  treasures  had  not 
even  been  surveyed,  much  less  touched. 

I  was  born  and  bred  in  the  great  forests,  and 
I  saw  them  topple.  I  was  raised  beside  the  raw 
new  iron  mines  of  the  Mesabi,  and  I  saw  them 
worked  out.  I  grew  up  near  lakes  jumping  with 
fish,  and  I  saw  them  fished  dry.  I  was  familiar 
with  forest  wildlife  on  every  hand,  and  I  saw 
it  shot,  trapped,  and  clubbed— some  species 
almost  to  extinction. 

I  watched  the  transformation  of  a  paradise 
of  primeval  beauty  and  a  treasure  trove  of  eco- 
nomic wealth— which,  properly  husbanded,  might 
have  lasted  forever— into  a  grim,  gray  landscape. 
I  saw  it  all  because,  unlike  the  ancient  civiliza- 
tions whose  unthinking  exploitation  we  deplore, 
it  didn't  take  two  thousand  years— or  even  five 
hundred— for  these  natives  to  plunder  their 
land.    They   accomplished   it   in   less   than   fifty. 


From  the  narrow  prairie  belt  on  the  south, 
right  up  to  the  Canadian ,  border,  stretched 
72,000  square  miles  of  almost  unbroken  forest- 
climax  conifers  mixed  with  white  birch  and  soft 
maple.  "Our  white  pine,"  exulted  the  Duluth 
Herald  in   1890,   "is  inexhaustible!" 

THE     DOOMED     FORESTS 

THE  first  logging  mill  was  set  up  just  about 
the  time  Minnesota  became  a  state,  but  logging 
in  earnest  didn't  start  until  years  later.  Then 
it  vaulted  upward  until  Minnesota  drew  up 
shoulder-to-shoulder  with  Wisconsin  as  the  big- 
gest lumber  producers  in  the  world.  At  the  start 
of  the  new  century,  the  state's  cut  topped  2,340 
million  board  feet! 

So  fast  did  the  big  pines  fall  that  by  1919 
the  cut  had  dropped  to  700  million  board  feet, 
and  by  1938  to  less  than  120  million.  Here  truly 
is  an  unequaled  record. 

In  my  childhood  the  only  way  to  get  through 
the  forests  to  any  of  the  ten  thousand  lakes 
north  of  us  was  by  way  of  the  new  railway  log- 
ging spur.  My  father  bought  a  handcar,  and  of 
a  Sunday  he  and  a  husky  male  friend  would  pack 
Mama  and  me  into  the  rear  box  with  the  lunch, 
and  pump  us  up  through  the  big  timber  to  a  lake. 

We  whizzed  through  the  split  in  the  forest 
wall,  the  cold  dank  air  redolent  with  balsam, 
cedar,  and  pine.  Deer  and  elk  leaped  from  the 
rails;  partridge  catapulted  away  in  feathered 
blobs;  cinnamon  bears  gaped  at  us  in  outraged 
surprise.  Porcupines  waddled  indifferently  off; 
clouds  of  canvasbacks  mottled  the  sky;  and 
sometimes   at  a  bend   the   regal   silhouette  of  a 


58 


LAMENT    FOR    MINNESOTA 


hull  moose,  headdress  aloft,  made  our  hearts  leap. 

From  the  logging  spur  we  hiked  in  to  the  lake, 
hauling  food  and  tackle.  I  can  still  smell  the 
arbutus,  the  crushed  moss  and  Eern.  I  can  still 
see  the  lady-slippers  and  yellow  dog's-tooth  and 
wintergreen.  1  can  still  taste  the  icy  water  that 
bubbled  up  through  the  toes  of  an  old  cedar. 

Then— almost  overnight— everything  was  gone, 
reduced  to  a  sea  of  white,  bleeding  stumps. 
Fires  swept  through  the  slash  and  tops,  burning 
out  the  centuries-old  carpet  of  humus,  killing 
every  pine  seed,  right  down  to  the  sanded  shores 
nl   the  lakes. 

Men  lied  and  cheated  and  murdered  to  gain 
possession  of  this  lumber  empire.  They  claim- 
jumped  and  swindled  and  bilked  the  govern- 
ment. Flu  hit;  money  manipulators  came  in.  and 
they  hired  fraudulent  settlers  for  $250  each  to 
<4ain  an  average  oi  $10,000  per  hireling  in  timber 
fortunes. 

"The  district  north  of  Duluth  is  honeycombed 
with  fraud."  wrote  a  U.  S.  land  agent  despair- 
ingly. "I  doubt  that  there  is  an  honest  settler 
anywhere  between  here  and  Hudson  Bay." 

Trees  are  replaceable;  virgin  forests  with  their 
centuries  ol  evolution  and  ecological  build-up, 
their  exquisite  balance  of  flora  and  fauna,  their 
peculiar  species  development— never. 

When  the  smoke  of  the  holocaust  cleared, 
hardly  a  virgin  pine  remained  outside  of  a  park 
oi   somebody's  lakeside  back  yard. 

It  is  not  possible  to  slaughter  three  million 
ducks  a  year  and  expect  to  enjoy  them  in 
masses  on  the  wing.  Partridge  don't  last  long 
when  you  put  twenty  or  thirty  in  a  family  stew; 
and  what  chance  does  a  porcupine  have  with  its 
trusting,  unhurried  ways,  when  it  is  such  sport 


to  club  (he  defenseless  little  fellow  on  the  head? 

Over  lour  thousand  square  miles  of  northern 
Minnesota  were  under  water,  and  every  lake 
pulsated  with  life.  Flu  town  of  Chisholm  was 
built  on  a  gem  ol  a  lake  with  a  rock-rimmed 
shore;  the  natives  could  step  in  a  Hat-bottom 
and  in  twenty  minutes  pull  in  a  washtublul  ol 
pickerel,  wall-eyes,  bass,  perch,  sunfish,  crappies, 
and  perhaps  six  oi  seven  other  kinds  ol  fish. 
Every  brook  leaped  with  brown  trout;  lake  trout 
huddled  in  schools  in   the  deep  lake  caverns. 

But  even  billions  ol  fish  give  out  when  man 
really  sets  about  exterminating  them.  Store 
windows  were  cluttered  with  the  longest  or  the 
biggest  hauls  and  the  prizes  bestowed  lor  them. 
Catches  six  feet  long  on  the  string  dangled  be- 
tween the  trees;  and.  just  to  hurry  it  along,  the 
fishermen  dynamited  the  lakes  to  bring  up  tons 
of  floating  bodies  to  scoop  easily  into  their  boais. 
Fiftj  years  ago  Minnesotans  threw  away  any- 
thing under  five  pounds.  Now  you  can  fish  all 
day  in  almost  any  lake  outside  the  canoe  country 
and  hardly  get  a  strike. 

There  was  no  Conservation  Department  in  the 
state  of  Minnesota  until  1931.  Today  chip- 
munks, deer,  and  rabbits  persist;  but  one  seldom 
sees  any  other  wild  animal. 

THE     MESABI     STORY 

THERE  were  great  hopes  for  the  fabulous 
new  Mesabi  iron  fields  when  my  father 
left  the  security  of  a  teller's  cage  in  a  Duluth 
bank  to  venture  up  into  the  black  forest  eighty 
miles  to  the  northwest  and  set  up  his  bank  in  a 
tar-paper  shack  on  the  brink  of  one  of  the  new 
mines.  All  around  us  stretched  millions  of  acres 


EXCHANGE 

MIRIAM  WADDINGTON 


when  brandy  burns  in  the  air, 
and  forests  hold  their  winter  sleep, 
when  Byron  dark  and  Shelley  fair 
their  appointed  places  keep: 

When  rhyme  and  reason  fancy  free 
join  inside  my  heart  and  head, 
when  you  become  the  voice  of  me, 
and  I,  the  rib  of  all  you  said; 

Then  will  the  core  of  this  exchange 
fall  and  grow  into  a  tree, 
with  leaves  embroidered  rare  and  strange 
with  gloss  of  you,  and  text  of  me. 


BY   LEONA    TRAIN    RIENOW 


59 


of  big  timber,  and  the  main  street  of  Chisholm 
was  ridged  in  muddy  ruts  the  color  of  blood 
in  the  rain. 

These  little  gingerbread-front  towns,  four- 
fifths  saloons,  were  the  beginning  of  the  greatest 
iron  communities  in  history.  With  the  very 
minor  help  of  the  Cuyuna  and  Vermilion 
secondary  ranges,  Minnesota  was  able  to  supply 
not  only  most  of  the  iron  and  steel  used  by 
this  nation  in  both  world  wars,  but  also  much 
of  that  used  by  all  our  allies. 

The  red  ore  lay  rich  and  heavy  right  under 
the  moss,  to  be  scooped  up  by  steam  shovels— a 
revolutionary  practice.  It  extended  in  pockets 
and  troughs  for  a  hundred  miles  east  and  west; 
and  the  pioneers  exultantly  forecast  that  the 
bounty  would  "last  till  Doomsday  and  the 
morning  after." 

The  towns  boomed,  and  the  Great  Gouge 
deepened.  And  while  the  red  gold  ran  rich,  the 
slightest  mention  of  a  diminishing  lode  was  not 
only  ridiculed— it  was  treason. 

The  wars  came,  and  shovels  dug  deeper.  Mil- 
lions of  tons  of  first-grade  hematite  poured  down 
the  railway  to  Duluth,  until  that  frigid  city 
became  the  second  port  in  the  world  in  tonnage. 

And  "the  morning  after  Doomsday"  came 
in  less  than  fifty  years.  Outside  of  some  last  rich 
gleanings,  most  of  what  is  left  now  of  the  in- 
credible Mesabi  is  a  low-iron-content  rock 
called  taconite  which  requires  tedious,  expen- 
sive processing  to  make  it  fit  even  to  ship  to 
the  furnaces.  And  the  brash,  lusty  little  towns 
have  settled  down  to  a  more  sober  future- 
punctuated  with  loud  talk  about  the  great 
new  booms  the  coming  billion-dollar  taconite 
plants  will  bring. 

ADDING     UP     THE     SCORE 

AS T O  R  made  his  fortune  on  Minnesota 
furs,  but  his  was  only  the  first  of  many. 
Some  of  the  biggest  names  in  American  money 
dug  a  great  part  of  their  wealth  out  of  Min- 
nesota. Rockefeller  bought  in  for  $1  million 
"or  so"  on  the  Mesabi  and  sold  to  U.  S.  Steel 
for  $80  million  (when,  had  he  but  known,  J. 
P.  Morgan  was  in  the  anteroom  waiting  to  pay 
him  $150  million).*  J.  J.  Hill  paid  $4  million 
for  an  old  logging  road  and  realized  $100  mil- 
lion in  ore.  Carnegie^  reluctantly  forced  into 
a  $1.2  million  corporation  with  Henry  Oliver, 
found  himself  the  startled  possessor  of  a  property 

*  These  transactions  are  covered  in  the  American 
Historical  Society's  Duluth  and  St.  Louis  County, 
Vol.  I,  edited  by  Walter  Van  Brunt. 


worth  more  than  $500  million.  And  there  were 
dozens  of  others. 

Unless  one  can  place  a  dollar  value  on  the 
psychological  exultation  of  killing,  most  of  the 
wildlife  and  fish  taken  were  wastage,  since  only 
a  minute  proportion  was  used  for  food.  Hardly 
46  per  cent  of  the  timber  reached  the  market- 
much  sank  water-logged  in  the  lakes,  rotted  in 
log  jams,  or  burned  up  in  forest  fires. 

The  Minnesota  pioneers,  abetted  by  Eastern 
capitalists,  perpetrated  these  crimes;  the  whole 
of  our  society  joined  the  Minnesota  exploiters 
in  gutting  the  Mesabi  iron  fields.  Their  ore 
won  two  world  wars— and  that  is,  perhaps, 
enough.  Let  the  next  generation  figure  out 
how  to  win  another. 

When  the  skinners  got  through  with  the  for- 
ests, fireweed,  scrub  jackpine,  blueberries,  and 
aspen  took  over  the  ravaged  land.  But  Nature, 
after  a  period  of  shock,  is  back  on  the  job.  You 
can  do  a  lot  with  a  few  thousand  lakes  when 
the  water  in  them  is  still  drinkable. 

It  is  discouraging  renovation,  however.  By 
the  terms  of  an  old  law  even  the  border  canoe 
country  must  bring  in  cash  revenue  in  board 
feet,  so  cutting  timber  is  permitted  up  to  a 
thin  shell  of  trees  along  the  trails  and  around 
the  lakes.  Now  they  might  legislate  against 
the  July  storms  that  inevitably  blow  down  the 
shorn  remnants. 

To  be  sure,  Minnesota's  man-made  wealth  is 
impressive,  and  some  of  it  grew  out  of  the 
same  practices  that  destroyed  the  state's  natural 
wealth.  It  was  the  gluttonous  appetites  of  the 
shanty  boys  in  the  lumber  camps  that  encour- 
aged the  setting  up  of  the  first  flour  mill.  The 
mills,  in  turn,  encouraged  wheat-growing  in  the 
Red  River  Valley— an  industry  without  peer  in 
the  countryside  today. 

On  the  other  hand  it  was  the  stolid  per- 
sistence of  the  sod-hut  farmers  that  built  up 
the  southern  strip.  Living  under  constant  threat, 
not  only  of  mud  in  the  eye  but  of  mud  in 
the  mouth  while  they  slept,  these  hardy  souls 
opened  the  way  for  the  dairy  farms  that  created 
the  greatest  butter  empire  in  the  nation. 

And  the  people?  They're  the  friendliest,  most 
genuine  folk  east  of  the  Big  Horns.  Push  open 
any  kitchen  door  in  the  state  and  you  will  be 
"just  in   time  for  a  cup  of  coffee." 

Minnesota  today  has  to  work  hard  for  her  liv- 
ing. The  fact  that  she  is  willing  to  pull  her  load, 
and  more,  has  made  her  successful  in  her  new 
lines  of  endeavor.  But  what  might  have  been 
.  .  .  that  is  something  her  natives  would  like 
to  forget. 


Harper's  Magazine,  May  1958 


w/. 


A  Story  by  LEO  ROSTEN 

Drawings  by  Bernardo,  Bryson 


vfcSSB 


%■  I 


'         P  t 


77^  G^  m  fFard  4 


CORPORAL  James  Bowie  Tompkins 
was  from  "Kaintucky,"  he  said,  "right  from 
the  hill  people  an'  sour-mash."  He  always  said  it 
with  mockery,  with  crafty  eyes  and  a  smile  he 
kept  on  his  face  like  a  Halloween  mask.  He  was 
only  twenty-one,  but  he  had  an  old  man's  lace. 
He  was  just  over  five  feet  five,  wiry,  compact,  and 
he  walked  with  a  bantam  cock's  bravado.  He  had 
the  special  courage  of  the  small  or  the  weak,  the 
courage  of  necessity.  He  came  to  our  Air  Force 
post  in  the  American  Southwest  with  fifty-two 
missions  behind  him,  a  Purple  Heart,  a  citation 
for  valor,  and  a  battered  guitar. 

He  lived  in  the  pleasant  and  unhurried  world 
of  the  Convalescent  Ward,  where  he  won  no 
friends,  made  no  enemies,  shared  no  secrets, 
offered  no  portion  of  his  self  or  his  past  to  the 
others.  Each  night,  he  stole  out  of  the  ward  with 
his  knowing  and  insolent  smile  and  cat-footed 
into  the  Rec  Hall,  where  he  took  a  wicker  chair 
in  the  darkest  corner  and  strummed  on  his  guitar 
and  drank  booze  from  a  long-necked  beer  bottle 
until  he  drowned  in  insensibility.  No  one  could 
figure  out  how  he  kept  getting  the  booze  and 
where  he  kept  hiding  it. 

We  might  never  have  known  any  of  this  had 
it  not  been  for  one  of  the  orderlies,  Private  Jack- 


son Laibowitz.  One  hazy  afternoon,  when  the 
burning  sun  was  veiled  In  clouds,  Laibowitz 
brought  a  glass  of  hot  tea  into  the  office  ol  Cap 
tain  Josiah  Newman,  Chief  of  the  Neuropsychia- 
try Section  (Ward  8),  taking  the  occasion  to 
declaim  without  warning,  as  was  his  wont,  "In 
Waid  1  is  a  guy  you  should  take  right  away  to 
Ward  8." 

Captain  Newman  put  down  his  reading  glasses 

and    sighed.     "Can't    you    ever    find    a    man    in 

Ward  8  who  would  be  better  off  in  Ward  4?" 

"Games,"     said     Laibowitz     acidly,     "are    for 

children." 

"So  is  sarcasm,"  said  Captain  Newman. 
"On  children,  sarcasm  is  wasted." 
Captain  Newman  sipped  the  tea  and  winced 
as  he  burned  his  tongue.    "Dammit,  Laibowitz, 
did  we  run  out  of  ice?" 

"Ice  freezes  the  muscles,"  said  Laibowitz,  who 
had  many  original  theories  about  men  and  medi- 
cine. "Heat  relaxes  the  same." 

"Tell  me  about  the  man  in  Ward  4,"  said 
Captain  Newman  glumly. 

"I'm  glad  you  brought  up  the  subject,"  said 
Laibowitz.  "Well— last  night,  in  Rec  Hall,  I  find 
this  joker  sleeping  in  a  chair,  passed  out  and 
stinkin'  from  booze.  When  I  shake  him  to  get  up, 


A    STORY    BY    LEO    ROSTEN 


61 


he  mumbles,  'Okay,  Big  Jim,  let's  cream  them 
tonight.'  His  name  is  Tompkins.  My  diagnosis," 
said  Laibowitz  sagely,  "is  depression,  acute  and 
severe.  I  told  him  to  go  see  you." 

Captain  Newman  groaned.  "Jackson,  for  the 
hundredth  time,  it  is  not  part  of  your  duties  to 
go  around  the  hospital  drumming  up  business." 

"From  such  business,  who  except  the  sick  can 
profit?"  And  Laibowitz  left,  with  an  expression 
that  showed  that  the  Captain  would  bear  watch- 
ing. 

The  next  morning;,  Newman  entered  his  office 
to  find  a  short,  lean  Corporal  behind  his  desk,  in 
his  chair,  tilted  far  back,  his  feet  on  the  desk. 
Newman  paused.  The  young  man  grinned,  wav- 
ing a  hand,  "Come  in,  Captain.   I  been  waitin'." 

"You've  been  doing  more  than  that,"  said 
Newman. 

The  Corporal  smirked.  "I  just  like  to  put  m' 
feet  up."  He  got  up  abruptly  and  picked  up  the 
guitar  he  had  leaned  against  the  wall.  "I  ain't 
stayin'.  You  want  me  to  talk,  come  to  Rec  Hall. 
At  night.  When  I'm  swacked.  I  ain't  promisin' 
nothin'  .  .  ." 

Newman  let  his  glance  rest  on  Tompkins.  "Do 
you  want  to  talk?" 

"Hell,  no.  And  no  head-shrinker  like  you  is 
gonna  slip  me  no  needle  and  fill  me  with  no 
goddam  flak-juice  either!  I'm  wise  to  the  way 
you  hook  'em— get  'em  talkin',  then  slip  'em  the 
needle." 

"No,"  Newman  said.  "Never,  unless  a  man 
asks  for  it." 

"Asks  for  it?"  Tompkins  repeated.  "Say,  that's 
pretty  cute.  Well,  Little  Jim  ain't  askin'  for  it. 
I  hear  that  flak-juice  knocks  you  out,  an'  you 
start  gabbin'  and  gabbin'  an'  when  you  git  uj:> 
you  don't  remember  a  single  thing.   Right?" 

"Something  like  that." 

"I  knew  I  had  you  taped,"  Tompkins  said 
slyly. 

Newman  shrugged.  "  'Flak-juice'  is  sodium 
pentothal.  It  gives  you  a  kind  of  twilight  sleep. 
It  helps  you  remember." 

"Remember?    Remember  what?" 

"What  you  can't  forget,"  said  Newman. 

Tompkins  stared  at  him  and  licked  his  lips. 
"Nuts!  That's  for  psychos.  Not  me!  I  ain't  one 
of  your  flak-happy  goof-balls." 

"Hold  out  your  hands,  Jim  ...  I  won't  touch 
you." 

Tompkins   held   out   his   hands   and   grinned. 

"Steady  as  rocks." 

"Sure,"  said  Newman.   "Now  turn  them  over." 
Tompkins  turned  his  hands  palms  up.   They 

were    glistening     with     sweat. 


Newman  said,  "Thanks,  Jim,"  and  turned  away.' 

Tompkins  studied  his  hands  thoughtfully  and 
wiped  them  on  his  shirt.  "Some  things  ain't 
purty,  Doc.  Some  things  jest  ain't  purty!"  He 
grabbed  the  guitar  and  hurried  out. 

In  a  moment,  Private  Laibowitz  materialized 
in  the  doorway.    "What  is  your  diagnosis,  Doc?" 

"It  is  customary,"  said  Captain  Newman  coolly, 
"to  greet  an  officer  in  the  morning  by  saying, 
'Good  morning,  sir.'  " 

"I  said  'Good  morning,  sir,'  yesterday." 

"How  time  flies." 

"You  don't  have  to  hide  your  emotions  from 
me,  Doc,"  said  Laibowitz  cryptically  and  left. 

AFTER  dinner  that  night,  Captain  New- 
man returned  to  his  office  and  left  the  door 
wide  open.  But  Tompkins  did  not  appear.  He 
did  not  appear  the  next  morning  either,  nor  the 
next.  Every  time  Laibowitz  caught  Captain  New- 
man's eye,  he  looked  disgusted. 

One  night,  just  as  Newman  was  about  to  go 
home,  the  short,  defiant  Corporal  appeared  in 
the  doorway  with  his  guitar.  He  looked  a  little 
unsteady.    "Hello,  Jim,"  said  Newman. 

Tompkins  snorted.  "I  guess  you  didn't  want 
to  hear  me  talk  after  all,  Doc,  huh?" 

"Why  do  you  say  that?" 

"You  didn't  come  to  Rec  Hall." 

"It's  better  to  talk  here." 

"Not  for  me,  it  ain't.  You  come  alone,  an'  if 
I'm  swacked  enough—"  Suddenly,  Tompkins 
dropped  the  grinning  mask  of  his  deception,  his 
face  gaunt,  and  cursed,  muttering,  "It  ain't  purty, 
Doc.   Jeeze,  it  ain't  purty." 

Newman  nodded.  "No,  it  ain't,  Jim.  It  ain't 
purty  at  all." 

A  light  flared  in  Tompkins'  eyes  and  burned 
out  the  panic.  "I  ain't  beggin',  see?  You  want  me 
to  talk,  you  know  where  you  can  find  me.  God- 
dam you,  Doc!"  Tompkins  swung  his  guitar  into 
the  air  and  lunged  out  of  the  door. 

The  next  morning,  Private  Jackson  Laibowitz 
announced,  without  warning,  "It  is  my  opinion 
that  Tompkins  is  ready  for  treatment." 

"Laibowitz—"  Newman  began,  "—it  is  not  the 
function  of  a  wardman  to  advise  the  chief  of 
the  neuropsychiatric  service—" 

"From  peasants  I  expect  pride.  From  psychia- 
trists I  expect  imagination." 

"Jackson!" 

"You  say  that  like  in  front  is  written  'Stone- 
wall.' "  He  hated  to  be  called  Jackson;  he  re- 
sented being  addressed  as  Laibowitz;  he  felt  the 
warm,  redeeming  glow  of  equality  only  when  his 
Captain  called  him  Jake. 


62 


THE    GUY    IN    WARD    4 


"You  must  get  it  through  your  head,"  said 
Newman  firmly,  "that  I  know  what  I'm  doing." 

Laibowitz  shrugged.    "Who  doesn't?" 

Captain  Newman  said  carefully,  "Tompkins  is 
not  ready  to  talk.  He  wants  me  to  come  to  him. 
If  I  do,  he'll  interpret  it  as  a  triumph—" 

"So  let  him.  All  his  life  a  loser,  this  once  throw 
him  a  hand." 

"Laibowitz,  will  you  listen?" 

"What  am  I  doing,"  cried  Laibowitz,  "skiing?" 

New  man  sank  into  his  c  hair,  wondering  for  the 
thousandth  time  what  it  was  about  Jackson 
Laibowitz  that  could  drive  you  to  despair— in- 
transigence? arrogance?  pride?  the  inability  to 
conform?  the  wild  joyousness  of  dissent?  an 
egomania  so  vast,  so  impenetrable  that— whatever 
it  was,  it  was  a  force  that  was  unyielding,  un- 
reachable, unswayable.  It  was,  by  God,  the  sort 
of  thing  that  had  made  our  countr)  strong. 
"Listen,  Jake,"  Newman  sighed.  "Tompkins  is 
\ei\  sick.  I  can't  help  him  as  long  as  he  makes 
a  contest  ol  this,  as  long  as  he  sets  up  tricks  to 
test  my  strength."  He  wondered— vaguely— why 
in  hell  he  was  taking  the  trouble  to  tell  Laibowitz 
all  this.  "Tompkins  will  come  to  me  when  he's 
ready,  really  ready;  when  his  defenses  against 
asking  for  help  crumble,  when  his  suffering  sur- 
mounts his  hostility,  when  his  need  overwhelms 
his  tear.   Then— perhaps— I  can  help  him." 

Laibowitz  listened  to  all  this  with  the  air  ol  a 
savant  grading  the  recitation  ol  a  precocious 
student,  cocked  his  head  to  one  side  and  pro- 
nounced judgment.  "Doc,  you  have  changed  my 
whole  opinion  ol  the  case.    Have  some  cookies." 

That  afternoon,  when  Captain  Newman  re- 
turned from  lunch,  he  found  a  sealed  envelope 
on  his  desk,  addressed: 

Big   shot 
Cuckoo  Scpiad 

Inside,  on  the  back  of  a  prescription  blank,  in 
a  cramped,  childlike  hand,  was  printed: 

Rec  Hall.  Tonight.  After  Lights. 

Jim  T. 
P.  S.   Please  come,  Doc. 

AFTER  the  lights  were  turned  out  in  the 
wards,  that  night,  Captain  Newman  went 
down  the  ramp  that  led  from  Ward  8  to  the  main 
building  of  the  hospital.  Several  table  lamps 
were  burning  dimly  in  the  empty  Rec  Hall. 
Newman  turned  them  off  and  went  to  the 
farthest  corner  and  sat  down  in  a  wicker  chair. 
He  turned  that  lamp  on,  picked  up  a  copy  of 
Baseball,  and  waited. 


In  a  moment,  he  heard  a  shuffle  near  the  side 
door  and  a  hoarse,  he  aw  whisper.  "Doc  .  .  .  turn 
off  the  light." 

"Not  yet,   Jim.    Come  in." 

Tompkins  hesitated.  The  guitar  hung  limply 
at  his  side.  "They'll  gig  me  il  they  find  me  in 
here." 

"I'll  take  care  ol  that." 

Tompkins  entered  slowly  and  dropped  into  a 
wicket  locker,  putting  the  guitar  across  his  knees, 
Studying  it.  "You  like  to  hear  the  gee-tar,  Doc?" 

"I'd  rather  you  talked." 

"I  can't  talk  unless  I  play!"  1  ompkins  blurted. 
"Goddammit,  1  ain't  even  swacked.  Wait.  I'll— 
oh  Jeeze."  Tompkins  struck  some  angry  chords 
on  the  guitar.  "Hell,  Doc,  that's  a  lie.  Little 
Jim's  swacked  already.  1  got  me  tanked  up  good 
before  I  come  in.  That's  a  fact."  He  was  pluck- 
ing out  a  melody  that  sounded  like  a  hundred 
other  songs  from  the  hills  two  thousand  miles 
away.  "Oh,  Jeeze.  Oh,  Jeeze,  Doc.  I  feel  it 
acomin'  on.  I'm  gonna  talk.  An'  it  ain't  purtyl 
I  want  to  fergit  it.    I  got  to  fergit  it!" 

"You  can't,"  said  Newman.  "You  can't  really 
forget  until  you've  remembered." 

The  fingers  on  the  strings  arched  like  talons. 
"Hey,  that's  pretty  good,  man.  That's  pretty 
damn  good!  Well,  Tin  not  gonna  tell  you,  see- 
not  all  ol  it  anyway.  .  .  .  Jim  da  Silva,  that  was 
his  name.  Big  Jim,  an'  one  hell  of  a  flyer.  Man, 
could  he  handle  that  crate!  Only  guy  in  the 
whole  goddam  outfit  knew  how  to  handle  a 
B-24."  He  gave  the  foolish,  vacant  laugh  oi 
inebriation. 

"I'd  get  me  loaded  every  damn  night,  hidin' 
in  different  places,  every  night  before  we  had  to 
go  up.  Know  what  il  means  if  you  don't  show 
up  for  a  mission,  Doc?  But  Little  Jim  always 
showed  up.  Yup.  You  know  why?  'Cause  he'd 
find  me.  Big  Jim.  No  matter  where  I'd  hide, 
I'd  feel  this  big  paw  shakin'  me  and  hear  that 
bastard's  voice  saying',  'Come  on,  kid,  time  to  go. 
This  is  Big  Jim.  Come  on,  Little  Jim,  we  got 
to  take  a  ride.  We  got  to  kill  us  some  Jerries!' 
An'  I'd  open  my  eyes  and  see  that  guinea  grinnin' 
at  me,  an'  I'd  say,  'Yeah,  man,  you're  Big  Jim  an' 
I'm  Little  Jim  an'  no  one's  ever  gonna  get  us 
two.'  An'  he'd  pull  me  to  my  feet  and  walk  me 
out  that  goddam  field  and  get  me  in  that  goddam 
crate.  .  .  .  Only  buddy  I  ever  had,  Doc.  Only  guy 
ever  took  care  of  Little   Jim.    An'  I— I—" 

lire  tears  began  to  course  down  his  cheeks. 
"Goddam  it,  Doc,  don't  let  me  talk  no  more! 
Please.  Stop  me.  If  f  remember  about  Big  Jim, 
I'll— blow— my— top.  Tin  tellin'  you,  I'll  blow— 
my— top!    Stop   me,    Doc.     Please   stop   me.    I'll 


A    STORY    BY    LEO    ROSTEN 


6! 


smash  up  that  lamp  and  throw  around  them 
chairs  and  push  m'  fists  through  all  the  goddam 
glass  in  the  windows!" 

"Sure,"  Newman  growled  with  deliberate  harsh- 
ness. "You'll  smash  up  the  lamp  and  throw 
around  them  chairs  and  push  your  fists  through 
all  the  goddam  glass  in  the  windows.  And  it 
won't  help  one  bit,  boy.  Not  one  goddam  bit. 
And  you  know  it!  You've  done  it  before,  and 
it  didn't  help;  and  it  won't  help  now." 

Tompkins  looked  at  Newman  with  bleary  eyes, 
sobbing.  "That's  where  the  flak-juice  comes  in, 
don't  it?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh,  Jeeze,"  Tompkins  moaned.  "I'm  in  a 
sweat.   I  don't  want  to  think  of  it." 

"But  you're  thinking  of  it  all  the  time,  day 
and  night,  week  after  week,  month  after  month 
after  month.   You  can't  stop  thinking  of  it." 

"It  ain't  true!" 

"That's  why  you  play  the  guitar— to  use  up  your 
thoughts.  That's  why  you  fight  off  sleep— so  you 
won't  dream.  That's  why  you  get  swacked— to 
deaden  memory."  Newman  changed  the  timbre 
of  his  voice  abruptly.  "What  a  stupid  way  to 
live!   What  a  goddam  stupid  way  to  live!" 

Tompkins  was  crying,  fumbling  with  the 
guitar,  fleeing  down  the  avenue  of  tears. 

"When  did  it  happen?"  asked  Newman.  "Come 
on,  boy.   When?" 

Tomkins  sniffled.  "Last  time  up  .  .  .  Novem- 
ber 17.  We  took  off,  6:05.  Me  an'—"  he  caught 
himself  and  cried,  "Yeah!  You're  right!  I'm 
goddam  stupid.  I'm  a  no-good  yellow-belly  who 
—oh— Jeeze,  okay,  Doc,  gimme  the  flak-juice.  I'm 
askin'  for  it.   Give  it  t'  me.   Please.   Right  now!" 

Newman  made  himself  yawn  and  got  to  his 
feet  slowly.  "Okay,  Buster.  Come  to  my  office 
tomorrow.    Around  eleven." 

Tompkins  regarded  him  with  astonishment 
and  distress.  "You  ain't  gonna  do  it  now?  Right 
now,  when  I'm  askin'  for  it?" 

"Nope.  I'm  bushed.  I'll  see  you  tomorrow. 
Eleven  o'clock." 

Tompkins  wiped  the  corner  of  his  eyes  with 
the  back  of  his  hand.  "Sure,  Doc.  Anything  you 
say,  Doc." 

Newman  started  for  the  door.  Tompkins  was 
not  following  him.  He  was  nestling  down  in  the 
chair,  working  his  shoulders  like  a  cat.  Newman 
paused,  frowning,  then  pushed  his  voice  into  the 
simulated  emotion  of  a  shout:  "Goddammit, 
Tompkins,  what's  the  matter  with  you?  Why 
don't  you  go  to  bed?  Haven't  you  beaten  your- 
self up  enough  for  one  night?  Don't  yon  have 
any  pity?" 


Tompkins  gave  a  cry,  leaping  out  of  the  chair. 
"Okay,  okay,  don't  blow  a  gasket!  I'm  goin'. 
Jeeze,  they  sure  picked  the  right  guy  to  boss  the 
loony  squad!"  He  staggered  past  Newman  with 
a  clutter  of  elbows  and  knees  and  unguarded 
emotion. 

He  was  halfway  to  Ward  4  when  he  reeled, 
hiccuping,  stumbling,  trying  to  use  the  guitar  as 
a  crutch,  sinking  at  last  to  the  floor  like  a  melting 
candle.  Captain  Newman  called  for  an  orderly 
once,  twice,  but  no  one  answered;  so  he  picked 
up  Corporal  James  Bowie  Tompkins  and  carried 
him  down  the  deserted  corridor  through  the 
doors  to  Ward  4,  the  guitar  still  clutched  in 
Tompkins  hand.  As  he  put  the  limp,  surprisingly 
light  body  down  on  an  empty  bed,  he  heard  the 
boy  mumble:  "Hey  .  .  .  Big  Jim  .  .  .  knew  you'd 
come  back  .  .  .  thanks." 


FROM  10:50  to  10:59  the  next  morning, 
while  Captain  Newman  was  finishing  his 
rounds  in  Ward  8,  Private  Jackson  Laibowitz 
kept  clearing  his  throat,  groaning,  hacking,  look- 
ing at  his  watch,  making  grandiose  references  to 
the  passage  of  time,  announcing  at  last  in  a  bell- 
like tone,  "It  is  eleven  o'clock." 

"Why  didn't  anyone  keep  time  for  me  before?" 
Newman  asked  dryly. 

"Before,"  said  Laibowitz  acidly,  "you  were  sur- 
rounded by  apple-polishers.  Now  you  are  assisted 
by  realists." 

"How  did  you  find  out  Tompkins  is  coming?" 


64 


THE    GUY    IN    WARD    4 


Laibowitz  blinked  his  eyes  with  monumental 
innocence.  "In  case  he'll  need  flak-juice,  I  boiled 
ill  your  needles.   Yon  want  I  should  help  yon?" 

"I  want  you  should  attend  to  your  own  work." 

"Progress  does  not  come  from  turning  down 
talent,"  said  Laibowitz  darkly. 

Newman  went  to  his  office.  Tompkins  was  not 
sitting  in  the  (hair  this  time.  He  was  standing 
jusl  inside  the  doorway,  pale  as  a  blotter,  his 
shoulders  turned  inward,  not  carrying  his  guitar, 
his  face  harried  and  anxious.  "Let's  git  goin'.  I 
want  to  git  it  over  with.*' 

"Okay.   Lie  down,  |im.   On  the  cot." 

"You— gonna  squirt  the  stufl  in  me?" 

Newman  picked  up  a  hypodermic.  "Yes.  This 
is  no  different  from  any  other  shot.  When  I  tell 
you  to,  st. u  t  c  ounting— ba<  kwards,  from  100."  He 
pulled  20  cc  of  a  2y<>  per  cent  solution  ol  sodium 
pentothal  into  the  needle,  put  a  tourniquet  on 
Tompkins'  arm  to  make  the  vein  bigger,  and 
rubbed  a  swab  of  alcohol  on  the  skin  above  it. 
"Ready,  Jim?" 

I  ompkins  swallowed,  a  ring  of  sweat  forming 
on  bis  neck  like  a  bracelet.  "Roger." 

Newman  jabbed  the  needle  into  a  cubital  vein, 
depressing  the  plunger  gently.  "Start  counting 
.  .  .  backward." 

Tompkins  emitted  a  brief  "Oh!"  then  a  sigh, 
then  began  counting:  "Hunderd  .  .  .  ninety-nine 
.  .  .  eight  .  .  .  seven  .  .  .  six  .  .  .  Hunderd— hey, 
where  am  I?  .  .  .  forty  .  .  .  oh  .  .  .  give  me  more 
.  .  .  good  .  .  .  seven  .  .  ."  By  the  time  the  cali- 
brated plunger  showed  16  cc.  had  gone  into 
Tompkins'  vein,  the  boy  was  making  obscure, 
muttering  sounds  and  tossing  his  head.  His 
mouth  opened  and  his  lips  made  faint  sucking 
movements;  his  breathing  changed,  deepening, 
devoid  of  control,  devoid  of  apprehension,  as  the 
narcotic  cloak  enveloped  him.  It  was  11:04. 

NO W  Newman  leaned  to  Tompkin's  ear 
and  began  to  talk,  softly,  his  voice  in- 
finitely reassuring,  mimicking  the  accent  and 
inflection  of  the  boy  on  the  cot:  "Okay,  Jim  .  .  . 
we're  goin'  up  now  .  .  .  okay.  It's  Tuesday, 
November  seventeenth— 6:05  in  the  morning. 
Come  on,  Little  Jim.  We  got  to  take  a  ride.  We 
got  to  kill  us  some  Jerries.  .  .  .  Man,  that  crate's 
all  warmed  up  .  .  .  we're  in  it  .  .  .  ready  .  .  .  Let's 
go,  boy  .  .  .  come  on  .  .  ."  His  tone  was  coaxing, 
wooing,  promising,  in  its  very  hushed  resonance, 
that  all  would  be  well,  that  pain  was  agoniz- 
ing but  not  fatal,  that  it  was  not  an  end  of  days 
nor  a  floodgate  of  punishment  and  horror,  that 
it  was  safe  to  enter  the  past  again. 

Tompkins'  head  moved  from  side  to  side,  and 


he  moaned.  "Oh,  feeze  ...  no  ...  I  don'  wanna 
go  up.  This  one's  a  sweat  job.  .  .  .  Okay,  Big 
Jim!"  he  shouted.  "Here  we  go  .  .  .  hot,  it's  so 
hot.  Hi,  Ruck,  you  gonna  get  fried  the  minute 
we  get  back?  .  .  .  Goddam  them  motors.  .  .  .  Up— 
up—uj).  Go— Jim— up.'  Jee/e,  won't  he  never  get 
this  goddam  coffin  off  the  groun'— yih!  We're  up! 
.  .  .  This  is  a  cinch,  sure.  Nothin'  comin'  at  us, 
nothin'  shootin'.  Gunner  to  pilot;  gunner  to 
pilot:  'Okay  il  I  take  a  practice  shot?  Roger.'" 

Tompkins'  hands  c  aine  up  as  if  he  were  moving 
a  big  gun,  sighting,  and  his  voice  imitated  a  burst 
of  gunfuc.  "Pr-r-r-l  P-r-r-r-!  .  .  .  Shoot  the 
breeze  .  .  .  Cine  by  .  .  .  What's  that?  Down 
there!  No,  oh,  Jecze,  comin'  at  us!  Go  back! 
Cap,  please,  the  flak  .  .  .  Where?  Four  o'clock. 
M.E.  109  ..  .  You  dirty  murderin'  Heinie— " 
His  whole  body  shook  as,  holding  the  imaginary 
gun,  he  rattled  off  a  burst  of  fire  to  the  Messer- 
schmitt  that  was  once  more  coming  in  at  four 
o'(  lock. 

"I  got  him!  Jim!  Look't  'im  bust  open.  He's 
goin'  down!  Burn!  Yellow  bastard!  Burn!"  He 
stopped,  burbling,  and  screamed.  "We're  hit!  .  .  . 
Oh,  no!  Omigod.  Oh,  Jesus!  Dear  Jesus.  Save 
me,  please,  God.  I'll  be  good.  I'll  be  a  good  boy 
.  .  .  The  number  2— We're  droppin'.  Ma!  We're 
gonna  crash!  Jim!  Pull  'er  up,  up  please— 
lookout!" 

A  long,  attenuated  "Oooooh!"  of  terror,  the 
sound  pulled  out  like  taffy;  then  a  scream  from 
the  boy,  bis  face  gray  paste,  dripping  with  sweat. 
his  head  jerking,  tossing,  turning,  a  bubble  of 
foam  trickling  out  of  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

Captain  Newman  leaned  closer  and  depressed 
the  plunger  he  had  never  removed  from  the  boy's 
vein,  sending  another  cc  into  the  vein,  murmur- 
ing. "C'mon.  Okay,  boy.  C'nion.  Little  Jim. 
You're  down.  You  crashed.  You're  in  that 
plane."    He  withdrew  the  needle. 

Tompkins'  hands  flew  up  over  his  head  and 
grabbed  the  iron  rung  of  the  cot.  "Smoke!  Lemme 
out!  Oh,  Christ.  We're  burnin'!  Out— out!"  He 
pulled  himself  against  the  frame  of  the  cot, 
straining,  bulging  his  arms,  astonishingly  quick, 
his  body  trying  to  repeat  an  earlier  escape 
through  a  hatch.  "Oh,  Jeeze.  Outa  my  way- 
Buck!  Mother  o'  Cod,  he  ain't  got  no  head! 
Buck!  Oh,  God!  Put  bark  his  head.  Please— some- 
one—he  don't  look  right.  Fire!  Tanks.  They'll  go. 
Get  out  .  .  .  Pull  .  .  .  up  .  .  .  I'm  out!  Yay! 
Jump!  Run  .  .  .  What's  that?  .  .  .  Who's  yellin'}" 

Tompkins'  face  and  arms  and  writhing  body 
froze,  just  as  the  voice  from  the  burning  plane 
had  frozen  him  that  morning  as  he'd  run  away. 
"Big  Jim— still  in  there— callin'.    'Little  Ji-i-m!' ' 


#v» 


m%K\ 


i  ■ 

\  i  ( 

i 

y* 

11 


AMERICAN 


LORD 
CALVERT 


American 
Blended  Whisk 


■«u».ii  »n 


NOBLE  NIGHTCAP 

(Choose  from  the  world's  3  great  whiskies— tonight) 

There  comes  a  time  in  every  day  when  a  And  the  greatest  of  all  American  whiskies 

man  should  be  host  to  himself.  —  our  own  lord  calvert. 

Hence   we   present   this  noble  choice   of  This  is  far  from  self-indulgence.  And,  if  it 

nightcap.  A  great  Scotch.  A  great  Canadian.  were,  who  would  have  a  better  right? 

LORD  CALVERT.   AMERICAN    BLENDED  WHISKEY.  86   PROOF,  65%  GRAIN    NEUTRAL   SPIRITS,  CALVERT   DISTILLERS   CO.,  N.  Y.  C. 


Follow  the  signposts  — a  carefree  way  of  touring  Britain 


SUPPOSE  you  saw  Milton  Abbas  on  a 
signpost.  What  would  you  expe<  t  to 
find;  A  poet's  paradise?  You  wouldn't 
be  far  wrong.  1  he  village  in  our  picture 
is  Milton  Abbas  in  Dorset.  It's  not  far 
from  Ryme  Intrinsica  and  Melbury 
Bubb.  What  visions  do  they  suggest? 

Motorists  in  Britain  can  carry  on  this 
guessing  game  indefinitely,  [ohn  Betje- 
man,  the  poet,  is  an  expert.  T>  him,  the 


names  are  music.  "Lord's  Day  hells  from 
Bingham's  Melcombe,  [werne  Minster, 
Shroton,  Plush  Down  the  grass  between 
the  beeches,  mellow  in  the  evening 
hush  .  .  ." 

Of  course,  your  guess  won't  always 
be  right.  Just  as  well  perhaps.  What  on 
earth  would  you  expect  to  find  at  Blub- 
berhouses,  Wi  angle,  Sinwelland  Ugley? 
The  latter  isone  of  the  prettiest  villages  in 


Essex— the  county  that  Constable  lov 
For  pure  euphoria,  you  can't  do  bei 
than  Warmley,  Idle  and  Inwardlei 
And  we  throw  in  Adel  cum  Ec< 
Bwlch,  Plwmp  and  Bishops  Itching 
merely  as  a  fillip  to  see  your  travel  age 
Spring  and  Fall  are  by  far  the  1 
seasons  for  touring  Britain.  The  re 
and  hotels  are  uncrowded.  You'll  pi 
ably  have  Nether  Wallop  all  to  yours 


For  free  illustrated  lite  in  I  me.  see  your  travel  agent  or  write  Box   1,1.  British   Travel  Association. 
In  New  York  — 336  Madison  Ave.;  In  Los  Angeles     606  South  II ill  St.;  In  Chicago— 39  South  La  Salle  St.;  In  Canada  —  90  Adelaide  Street  West,  Tore 


Tompkins'  voice  spilled  out  in  a  thin,  high  echo- 
ing wail.  "  'Help  .  .  .  Save  me.  Little  Ji-i-m.' 
Go  back!  Pull  him  out— but  the  tanks  .  .  ."  From 
the  boy's  mouth  came  a  whooshing,  hollow  roar 
like  the  roar  of  a  plane  catching  fire.  "Run! 
Run!  Run!" 

Tompkins'  head  snapped  sidewards,  insensate, 
and  his  lips  parted  and  sound  rattled  in  his 
throat  and  he  lost  the  consciousness  he  had  lost 
once  before. 

Captain  Newman  watched  him  for  a  moment, 
hearing  the  rasp  of  his  own  breathing,  feeling  the 
sodden  weight  of  silence,  and  he  felt  the  perspira- 
tion running  down  his  face.  He  stared  at  Tomp- 
kins absently,  his  face  sagging,  and  he  could  feel 
the  blood  squeezing  into  his  legs.  It  was  stifling 
hot  in  the  room.  He  unbuttoned  his  collar  and 
stood  up  and  opened  the  window.  The  sun  was 
hammering  on  the  drum  of  the  sky.  He  wiped 
his  face  with  his  hand  and  looked  at  his  watch. 
It  was  11.-13. 

He  felt  dry  and  spent  now.  He  wondered  how 
much  men  can  endure— how  much  fear  and 
terror  and  unutterable  pain.  "God  .  .  ."  he 
thought.  No.  In  this  universe  of  another  man's 
soul  he  had  entered,  God  was  silent.  He  felt  a 
sudden  rush  of  protest.  He  was  no  angel  of 
deliverance.  He  felt  suddenly  alone,  abandoned, 
and  unaided  in  some  darkening  arena  where 
beasts  of  horror  roved.  "We  ask  too  much  of 
them,"  he  thought.  And  who  was  he  of  whom 
they  asked  so  much— in  strength  and  insight's 
intercession? 

He  wiped  his  throat  and  neck  with  a  towel 
and  noticed  that  his  hands  were  shaking.  He 
poured  some  water  into  a  glass  from  the  carafe 
his  orderlies  had  given  him  for  Christmas,  and 
dipped  his  handkerchief  into  the  glass  and  cooled 
his  temples.  He  got  a  cigarette  and  was  about  to 
light  it,  but  put  it  down,  troubled,  looking  at 
Tompkins. 

In  time,  Tompkins  gave  a  massive,  arching 
yawn,  and  stretched  his  arms  and  rubbed  his  eyes. 
"Jeeze  ...  I  musta  dozed  off." 

"Mmh." 

"Jeeze,  I  feel  tired.  Best  I  slept  in  months." 
Tompkins  sat  up,  yawning,  and  moved  his  feet 
to  the  floor.  He  noticed  the  stains  on  his  shirt 
and  pants.  "Chris",  I'm  sweatin' like  a  pig.  That's 
what  I'm  sweatin'  like— a  goddam  pig." 

"How  about  a  cigarette?"  Newman  held  the 
pack  out  and  Tompkins  yawned  again  and  took 
a  cigarette,  mumbling,  "Man,  I  musta  got  me 
ten,  twelve  hours  shut-eye."  He  yawned  and 
rubbed  his  eyes  again.  "Hey,  Doc,  d'l  talk  in  m' 
sleep?" 


A    STORVBY    LEO    ROSTEN  65 

"Uh,  huh." 

He  hesitated,  blinking  his  eyes;  then  he  licked 
his  lips  nervously.    "What  d'l  say,  Doc?" 

"Omigod,"  Newman  groaned,  "every  one  of 
you  guys  thinks  you're  so  damn  special.  I'm  not 
passing  out  any  prizes  for  suffering!  And  if  I  did, 
you  wouldn't  even  be  in  the  running.  Hell,  I  was 
expecting  stuff  would  blow  me  right  out  of  my 
seat.  No,  you're  not  even  in  the  running.  I've 
got  guys  in  that  ward  make  you  look  like  Little 
Miss  Muffet." 

"But  I— Big  Jim-" 

"I  know  all  about  it,"  said  Newman  harshly. 
"Come  in  tomorrow.  Now  get  the  hell  out  of 
here  and  run  around  the  track  or  play  some 
volleyball.   I've  got  work  to  do." 

Tompkins  grinned  weakly  and  left.  He  was 
whistling. 

In  several  minutes,  Private  Laibowitz  entered. 
He  studied  Captain  Newman  and  sat  down  with- 
out a  word.  After  a  while  he  ventured,  "That 
kid  from  Kentucky.    It  wasn't  pretty,  huh?" 

Newman  glanced  out  of  the  window.  The 
heat  was  shivering  across  the  face  of  the  earth. 
"No,  it  wasn't  pretty,  Jake." 

WHEN  Tompkins  came  into  Captain 
Newman's  office  the  next  morning,  he 
was  strutting.  "Hi,  Doc!"  he  called,  tilting  back 
in  a  chair,  putting  his  feet  up  on  Newman's  desk. 
"Feel  great  this  morning.  Shoot." 

Newman  surveyed  Tompkins  icily.  "Take  your 
goddam  feet  off  my  desk,  soldier.  And  don't  ever 
pull  that  kind  of  stuff  on  me  again." 

Tompkins  brought  his  feet  down  to  the  floor 
with  a  slam,  his  eyes  simmering. 

"When  you're  here,"  said  Newman,  "you'll 
show  respect— for  me,  and  for  yourself.  I'm  not 
going  to  let  you  cheapen  any  guy  who  did  fifty- 
two  missions  and  wears  all  that  spinach  on  his 
chest!  Listen.  I'm  going  to  help  you— even  if  you 
fight  me  every  inch  of  the  way.  I  can  be  just  as 
rough  on  you  as  you  are  on  yourself.  So  let's  take 
the  gloves  off  and  give  you  a  real  good  shel- 
lacking." 

Tompkins  glared  at  him  in  silence. 

"Attaboy,"  said  Newman  sarcastically.  "Keep 
torturing  yourself.  Keep  blaming  yourself.  Keep 
rubbing  your  face  in  it.  .  .  .  So  you  ran  away 
when  you  heard  Big  Jim  yelling  .  .  ." 

Tompkins  turned  ashen  and  half  rose.  "Stop!" 

"Stop?"  Newman  asked  in  astonishment. 
"What  the  hell  for?  Are  you  the  only  guy  in  the 
world  has  a  right  to  treat  you  like  a  dog?" 

"I  ran  out  on  him!"  cried  Tompkins.  "I  let 
him  die!    There  wasn't  a  piece  of  him  left  even 


66 


THE    GUY    IN    W  A  R  I)    4 


to  bury— and  that's  whai  /  did,  see!  Vnd  it  wasn't 
purty!  And  I  ain't  nevei  gonna  fergil  ii  never, 
never,  ih  \  ei  I"  1  [e  pounded  the  desk  with  his  list. 

Newman  nodded.  "Good.  Now  we're  getting 
somewhere." 

"I'm  no  good!" 

"You  sure  ain't." 

"I'm  a  goddam  low-down  yellow-belly  coward!" 

"Right.''  s.iid  Newman.  "You're  not  worth  the 
ammo  to  shoot  your  brains  out.  You  nevei  did  .i 
decent  thing  in  your  life.  You  nevei  Hew  no 
fifty-two  missions.  You  never  got  no  Purple 
Heart.  You  never  won  three  combat  citations." 
Lay  off-" 

"You  were  stared  when  that  crate  crashed— 
like  any  other  gu)  would  be.  But  Jim  Tompkins 
isn't  allowed  to  get  scared,  is  he?  You  ran  for 
your  lite — like  am  othei  guy  would.  But  Jim 
Tompkins  isn't  allowed  to  be  human,  is  he?" 

"I  shoulda  gone  back!  I  shoulda  pulled  him 
out!" 

"Right.  You  shoulda  tried.  But  what  makes 
you  so  damn  sure  you'd  been  able  to  pull  him 
out?" 

Tompkins  looked  up.  "Huh?" 
I  he  plane  wotdd  still  have  exploded— and 
blown  you,  too,  into  all  those  little  pieces  no  one 
ever  found.  So  the  ferries  would  have  chalked  up 
another  guy— a  pretty  sharp  gunner,  fifty-two  mis- 
sions. That  would  have  been  smart,  wouldn't  it? 
Handing  the  bastards  who  shot  down  Jim 
another  guy  on  a  platter,  for  dessert." 

"lint-" 

"Stop  interrupting!"  Newman  hit  the  table 
with  his  fist  just  as  Tompkins  had  done.  "You 
heard  Jim's  voice  and  turned  and  saw  the  plane 
and  the  llames  and  you  froze— like  any  guy  who 
isn't  off  his  rocker  wotdd  do.  That  was  being  a 
rat,  wasn't  it,  a  yellow-belly  who  always  runs  out 
on  a  pal  crying  for  help—" 

"No!  I  once  dived  in  a  burnin'  cockpit- 
dragged  out  a  guy—" 

"Oh,  let's  not  put  that  on  the  score  card," 
Newman  said  ironically.  "Let's  not  let  Jim 
Tompkins  off  the  hook,  boy.  We  got  to  punish 
that  Tompkins  real  hard.  After  all,  he  personally 
shot  down  that  B-21  himself—" 

"Me?  You're  crazy!  It  was  flak— Messer- 
schmitts." 

"Oh,"  said  Newman  with  a  grimace  of  dis- 
appointment. "I  thought  we  could  hang  the 
whole  crash  on  you." 

"That  don't  make  sense!" 

Newman  hesitated,  nodding,  shifting  the  level 
of  his  voice:  "Neither  does  what  you've  been 
doing  to  yourself."    He  leaned  back  and  let  the 


silence  hang  in  the  air  and  lighted  a  cigarette, 
"You  feel  guilty?  You  should.  You  need  to 
suffer?  Go  ahead.  But  let's  figure  out  a  reason- 
able amount  ol  miser}  to  pa)  oil  that  guilt.  .  .  . 
Jim,  I've  got  an  idea.  \\'h\  don't  you  (hop  off 
your  loot?"  Tompkins'  e\es  widened  and  he 
stared  al  Newman.  "You  heard  me,  boy.  Why 
don't  you  go  out  and  get  an  axe  and  chop  olt 
youi   loot?" 

"I  don't  git   it." 

"How  about  your  hand,  then?  Lots  of  guys 
pa)  ofl  with  an  'accident'.  You  can,  too.  Go  out, 
gel   c.uelcss." 

"Don't  talk  c  ra/\ !" 

Newman  shrugged.  "Is  a  hand  too  much? 
Then  how  about  some  toes?  Or  a  finger?  f  think 
that  would—" 

"Stop!  None  of  that'll  bring  Big  |hu  back!" 
Tompkins  cried. 

"And  neither  will  what  you've  been  doing  to 
yourself,"  said  Newman  quietly. 

Tompkins  looked  up,  bewildered,  gaunt,  and 
buried  his  lace  in  his  hands  and  wept.  Newman 
let  him  weep  and  weep  and  weep,  until  Tomp- 
kins moaned  into  his  hands,  "Oh,  Jee/.e.  Me 
<  l  \  in'— « l  \  in'  like  a  kid." 

"It's  about  time.  You're  crying  for  Jim.  You 
ought  to.  You  loved  him.  And  he's  dead."  New- 
man paused.  "You  can  let  yourself  feci  now,  Jim. 
That's  good."  He  looked  at  his  wrist  watch. 
"Well,  have  we  beat  you  up  enough  for  one  day? 
Wash  your  lace  and  get  some  coffee.  .  .  .  See  you 
toiuoi  low." 

EV  E  R  Y  day  at  eleven,  for  a  week,  Tomp- 
kins came  to  Captain  Newman.  And  every 
day— in  varied  ways,  with  varied  intensities— New- 
man acted  out  the  role  ol  another  man's  relentless 
conscience.  He  knew  that  only  by  taking  over  the 
harshest  features  of  the  harshest  self  could  he 
reach  a  man  whose  self  had  closed  itself  off  to 
mercy. 

Each  night,  as  he  lay  sleepless  in  his  bed,  New- 
man thought  of  the  next  clay's  requirements:  he 
would  have  to  present  Tompkins  with  the  naked 
image  of  his  own  self-hatred,  his  own  unreason- 
ing harshness.  And  when  punishment  had  run 
its  course  and  pain  cried  out  for  surcease,  he  had 
to  offer  the  boy  a  new  conscience,  a  conscience 
which  could  replace  and  relax  the  frightful 
demands  ol  the  old. 

Yet  it  was  not  these  thoughts  that  tore  deepest 
at  the  fabric  of  Captain  Newman's  sleep.  These 
were  insights  from  which  to  shape  a  design  for 
healing-.  It  was  something  else  that  reached 
through   the  darkness   to  rend   his  heart.    "If   I 


A   STORY   BY   LEO    ROSTEN 


67 


let  him  stay  sick,  the  boy  will  live.  If  I  make  him 
well,  the  boy  will  die  .  .  ."  For  Newman  knew 
that  if  what  he  was  doing  succeeded,  Tompkins 
would  surely  ask  to  go  back  into  combat.  But 
if  he  let  Tompkins  stay  ill— a  bundle  of  incapaci- 
tating guilt,  a  ball  of  internalized  hate— the  boy 
could  live  on  in  Ward  8  until  this  war,  and  per- 
haps another,  would  end.  "My  job  is  to  make 
them  well,"  Newman  thought,  "well  enough  to 
get  killed." 

Was  this  the  goal  of  his  calling?  Was  this 
what  he  had  dedicated  himself  to? 

ON  E  morning  Tompkins  came  in  late  and 
said,  straight  off:  "Think  I  can  get  back 
overseas,  Doc?" 

Newman  felt  the  beat  of  his  pulse  quicken. 
"Why?" 

"It  figgers  that  way,  that's  all.  /  didn't  kill  Big 
Jim.  You  know  who  did?  The  Jerries.  Them 
goddam  Nazzies.  So  I  want  another  crack  at 
them,  Doc.  To  even  up  the  score.  Whadya 
say?  You  goin'  to  fix  it  for  me  to  git  back  to 
some  shootin'?" 

That  was  the  moment  Newman  had  hoped  for, 
wanted,  hated,  dreaded.  "I  hear  the  missions 
are  getting  rougher  and  rougher,"  he  said. 

"Bound  to." 

"A  lot  of  our  guys  are  getting  shot  up." 

"Sure  are." 

"You  can  get  your  goddam  head  blown  off  in 
one  of  those  raids,"  said  Newman. 

Tompkins  shot  him  a  quick  look.  "You  sure 
can,  Doc." 

Newman  took  a  moment  to  pour  some  water. 
"You  know  you  can  stick  around  here  a  little 
longer  .  .  ." 

"Nope,  Doc.  I  got  to  git  out  of  here.  A  couple 
more  missions,  Doc,  that's  all  I  want." 

"Why?" 

Tompkins  hesitated.  "I  jest  owe  it  to  Big  Jim, 
I  guess.  And  them  other  guys  that  went  down 
with  him." 

Ten  days  later,  Corporal  James  Bowie  Tomp- 
kins, AAF,  gunner,  was  shipped  out,  out  of  the 
hospital,  off  our  post  on  a  desert  palpable  with 
heat,  to  an  Eighth  Air  Force  squadron  some- 
where in  the  green  and  mist  of  England. 

It  was  two  months  later,  just  after  Easter,  when 
the  heat  was  beginning  to  crack  our  lips  and  each 
night  came  on  wings  of  blessed  chill,  that  Lai- 
bowitz  came  rushing  in  with  a  letter  from  a 
pal  in  England:  Corporal  James  Bowie  Tomp- 
kins, of  Boonefort,  Kentucky,  was  in  the  lead 
plane  on  a  block-buster  raid  on  Berlin,  had  shot 
clown  two  Nazis,  and  was  last  seen  going  down 


3RY5DN 


with  nine  comrades  in  the  pyre  of  a  Flying 
Fortress,  down,  doomed,  headlong,  flaming. 
"Christ,  Doc,"  cried  Laibowitz,  "you  saved  that 
boy." 

Captain  Newman  went  into  his  office  and 
closed  the  door.  He  wanted  to  lock  the  door, 
but  he  didn't.  He  wanted  to  take  a  drink  (it 
would  be  wonderful  to  get  drunk)  but  he  didn't. 
He  sat  down  in  his  chair  and  turned  it  so  that 
his  back  was  to  the  door  and  he  stared  across  the 
parade  grounds  into  the  baking  and  merciless 
sunset.  His  temples  were  throbbing,  his  throat 
parched,  but  he  could  feel  his  palms  breaking 
into  sweat.  And  even  then,  he  made  himself 
remember  that  his  next  patient— a  panic-ridden 
Major  from  a  fighter  group— would  be  plunged 
into  unutterable  despair  if  good  old  Captain 
Newman    kept    him    waiting. 


Harper's  Magazine,  May  1958 


Judire  Samuel  H.  Hofstadter 
and  Arthur  Herzog 


Common  Sense 
about 

ALIMONY 


Our  out-of-date  divorce  laws  ignore 

the  facts  about  modern  women — 

and  do  a  lot  of  unnecessary  harm 

both  to  them  and  to  their  ex-husbands. 

LAST  year  a  husband  and  wife  in  their  mid- 
thirties  who  had  been  married  for  five  years 
and  had  no  children  sought  a  divorce  in  Florida 
on  grounds  ol  cruelty.  It  was  granted,  and  the 
husband  was  ordered  by  the  courl  to  pay  his 
ex-wife  $30  a  week  alimony.  He,  as  it  happened, 
made  3100  a  week,  out  of  which  he  helped  to 
support  Iiis  parents.  She,  on  the  other  hand, 
earned  $150  a  week  at  an  advertising  agency 
and  had  no  dependents. 

This  preposterous  courl  decision  is  not,  un- 
happily, an  isolated  instance  but  rather  typical 
of  our  current  divorce  laws  all  over  the  country. 
\s  a  result  there  is  a  new  and  growing  class  in 
our  society  which  might  be  called  alimony 
drones— women  who,  regardless  ol  their  own 
abilities  or  resources,  depend  on  their  former 
husbands  as  their  major  or  even  sole  means  of 
support.  Since  the  great  majority  of  divorces 
occur  within  the  first  five  years  ol  marriage  and 
65  per  cent  do  not  involve  minor  children,  most 
ol  these  women  are  in  a  good  position  to  provide 
for  themselves,  il  only  they  were  required  to  do 
so.  Yet  in  almost  all  ol  the  divorces  granted  the 
husband  is  required  to  pay  alimony. 

Theoretically  the  amount  is  based  on  several 


factors:  the  man's  ability  to  pay,  the  couple's 
previous  standard  ol  living,  and  which  part)  is 
at  fault.  In  practice,  the  husband's  bank  account 
is  usually  the  crucial  element.  (The  rule-ol- 
thmnb  figure  mentioned  bj  experienced  attor- 
neys is  about  one-third  of  die  man's  income.) 
The  other  side  of  the  coin  — the  wile's  age,  in- 
come, earning  potential,  and  the  duration  of 
the  marriage— is;  not  sufficiently  considered  by 
the  courts.  So  a  voting  California  woman  can 
feel  free  to  ask,  as  one  did  recently,  $1,500,000 
after  one  week  ol  marriage. 

The  effect  ol  this  state  of  affairs  on  the  men 
involved  is  obvious.  What  is  not  often  realized 
is  that  excessive  alimom  can  also  be  harmful 
to  the  women  who  receive  it.  A  lew  years  ago 
a  man  in  show  business  making  $30,000  a  year 
agreed  to  give  his  thirty-two-year-old  wile  $10,000 
a  year,  one-third  ol  everything  he  earned  over 
$30,000  (which  turned  out  to  be  a  substantial 
sum),  and  all  property  held  between  them,  in- 
cluding a  car  and  a  house.  He  further  pledged 
to  keep  up  the  mortgage  payments  on  the  house 
and  tin  payments  on  his  life-insurance  policy 
of  which   his  wile   was   the   beneficiary. 

The  man  in  this  instance  has  plenty  of  money 
left,  though  he  may  well  wonder  what  will  hap- 
pen to  him  if  his  ratings  tumble.  Alimony  ar- 
rangements, when  privately  settled  by  separation 
agreements,  as  these  were,  are  fixed  and  cannot 
often  be  changed  by  the  courts— even  if  the 
man  no  longer  has  the  income  to  make  the 
payments. 

Though  the  wife  in  this  generous  arrangement 
did  not  get  cpiite  enough  to  send  her  to  Paris 
for  her  clothe-s.  still  with  no  dependents  she 
could  comfortably  winter  in  Florida  and  summer 
at  Cape  Cod.  Hut  her  underlying  problems 
seemed  to  be  aggravated  by  the  alimony.  She  had 
no  pleasant  memories  of  her  marriage  and  little 
faith  in  her  ability  to  succeed  in  a  new  one. 
Furthermore,  she  was  afraid  of  risking  her  finan- 
cial security.  So  she  entered  into  one  romantic 
situation  alter  another,  only  to  back  out  at  the 
first  suggestion  ol  marriage.  Alimony  has  kept 
this  woman  from  putting  herself  in  a  position 
where  she  would  be  forced  to  reorganize  her 
life  on  a  new  and  better  basis  and  to  deal 
actively,  not  passively,  with  experience.  She  does 
not  work  and  has  developed  no  talents.  She  can 
neither  reject  the  past,  accept  the  present,  nor 
anticipate  the  future. 

At,  the  other  end  of  the  scale,  our  present 
procedure  of  treating  almost  all  divorce  cases 
alike,  instead  of  each  one  for  what  it  is— a 
highly  individual  problem  in  domestic  relations 


BY   JUDGE   S.   H.   HOFSTADTER    AND   ARTHUR    HERZOG 


69 


—may  leave  a  woman  who  actually  needs  it  with 
too  little  alimony.  Given  poor  legal  advice  or 
a  husband  who  lies  about  his  income,  a  woman 
who  has  given  up  her  own  career,  contributed  to 
her  husband's,  and  borne  him  children  may  not 
get  enough  money  to  live  on  comfortably,  al- 
though her  husband  can  well  afford  to  pay. 
Other  women  who  refuse  to  identify  themselves 
with  the  victimizers  of  husbands  may  forgo  ali- 
mony altogether.  There  are  many  such  cases 
where  alimony  was  badly  needed,  but  there  was 
no  public  agency  available  to  advise  the  women 
about  it. 

MODERN     VS. 
MEDIEVAL     WOMEN 

OU  R  matrimonial  laws  are  what  they  are 
today    because    the    law,    ever    slow    to 
change,  does  not  quite  believe  what  statistics  tell 
us  about  modern  women.  Alimony  was  originally 
an  innovation  of  the  English  ecclesiastical  courts, 
meant   to  provide   for  wives   in   the  days  when 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  absolute  divorce.  The 
best   the   courts   could  offer,   and   this   only   on 
i  proof  of  the  gravest  fault,  was  a  separation  a 
\mensa  et  thoro—hom  bed  and  board.  The  sepa- 
ration was  physical,  never  financial,  and  the  hus- 
band paid  "alimony"  (from  the  Latin  "to  nour- 
ish") in  view  of  his  continuing  marital  obliga- 
tions.   Neither  spouse   could   re-marry,   nor,   of 
course,  could  the  husband  assume  the  responsi- 
ebilities  of  a  new  wife  and  children,  as  so  often 
happens  today.  Since  the  wife— who  had  no  legal 
identity  apart  from  her  husband's  and  could  not 
■own  property— had  no  way  to  support  herself, 
lit  was  her  husband's  job  to  see  that  she  did  not 
I  become  a  public  charge. 

Today,  of  course,  there  is  absolute  divorce 
Imd  women's  equality  has  been  established  by 
llaw,  custom,  and  economics.  It  is  estimated  that 
livomen  control  70  per  cent  of  our  national 
l.vealth;  and  of  our  twenty-one  million  women 
[workers,  two-thirds  are  married.  Although  there 
Is  not  yet  complete  equality  of  opportunity  for 
Iwomen,  a  woman  who  is  young  enough  and 
|<vants  to  work  can  support  herself— often  as  well 
lis  a  man  can. 

In  this  kind  of  society,  alimony  has  severe 
I  Psychological  drawbacks  for  both  parties.  It 
perpetuates  a  relationship  both  would  like  to 
lever.  A  woman  who  has  always  thought  her 
Biusband  was  stingy  finds  additional  fuel  for  her 
linger  in  his  reluctance  to  pay  alimony— or  as 
Inuch  alimony  as  she  feels  she  deserves.  A  man 
Ivho  has   complained   about   his   wife's   extrava- 


gance is  confronted  by  fresh  evidence  every  time 
an  alimony  payment  is  due.  In  both  cases,  the 
original  dislike  or  irritation  can  deepen  into 
something  close  to  truly  pathological  hatred  and 
vindictiveness.  A  woman  may  take  perverse 
pleasure  in  her  new  power  to  force  her  husband 
to  do  something  he  doesn't  want  to  do;  or  she 
may  try  to  punish  him  for  past  wrongs  by  mak- 
ing it  impossible  for  him  to  marry  again.  A  man 
who  believes  that  his  wife  was  to  blame  for  the 
failure  of  the  marriage  may  fight  against  paying 
any  alimony— even  if  it  means  losing  more  in 
prestige  than  he  can  hope  to  win  in  cash— and 
end  by  despising  both  his  wife  and  the  legal 
processes. 

But  perhaps  the  most  compelling  argument 
against  our  present  alimony  practices  is  that, 
by  making  it  extremely  difficult  for  a  divided 
couple  to  reconcile,  they  contribute  to  the  large 
divorce  rate.  One  experienced  marriage  coun- 
selor believes  that  50  per  cent  of  the  couples 
who  start  divorce  proceedings  hope  that  some- 
thing will  stop  them  before  it's  too  late.  Noth- 
ing does.  The  original  area  of  dispute  between 
them  soon  becomes  a  sort  of  legal  No  Man's 
Land  where  each  side  is  separated  from  the 
other  by  snarls  of  legalistic  barbed  wire.  Nego- 
tiations across  these  barriers  are  conducted  not 
by  the  two  people  involved— unacquainted  with 
the  law,  they  might  make  crucial  mistakes— but 
by  lawyer  intermediaries,  each  anxious  to  do  the 
best  possible  by  his  client,  each  aware  of  all  the 
worst  possibilities. 

In  most  jurisdictions,  the  first  question  to  be 
settled  by  the  court— or  by  the  spouses  in  mutual 
agreement— is  fault.  As  the  law  now  stands,  guilt 
or  innocence  in  ending  the  marriage  is  an  im- 
portant consideration  in  deciding  whether  or 
not  alimony  is  to  be  awarded,  and,  if  so,  how 
much.  Even  if  neither  spouse  is  really  "guilty," 
an  offending  party  must  be  named;  and  alimony 
is  paid,  or  forfeited,  accordingfy.  Consequently 
each  lawyer  will  advise  his  client  to  try  to  make 
the  other  party  look  as  black  as  possible. 

Once  fault  is  established,  it  is  up  to  the 
spouses— or  their  lawyers— to  prove  how  much 
alimony  the  husband  can  afford  to  pay,  if  the 
guilt  has  been  declared  his.  If  the  application 
is  for  temporary  alimony,  the  spouses  submit 
the  pertinent  facts  in  affidavits.  These  are  often 
wildly  contradictory.  In  one  recent  action,  a 
wife  claimed  her  husband's  annual  income  was 
$25,000,  while  he  put  it  at  under  $4,000.  The 
court  has  no  facilities  to  make  independent  in- 
vestigations of  such  conflicting  claims,  and  there 
is  usually  no  hearing.    The  judge  must  rely  on 


70 


(   ()  M  M  ()  N    S  1  N  S  E    ABOUT    A  L  I  M  ()  \  \ 


experience  to  extract  Erorn  ilic  documents  before 
him  some  approach  to  the  truth. 

The  procedure  is  not  substantially  different 
when  the  case  goes  on  to  final  courl  action.  \ 
new  judge  presides,  both  spouses  and  their  law- 
yers are  present,  and  there  are  charges,  counter- 
charges, examinations,  and  cross-examinations. 
Like  the  judge  who  awarded  the  temporary  ali- 
mony, the  trial  judge  has  no  adequate  facilities 
to  investigate  the  ingenious  claims  pul  before 
him,  and  almost  always  he  reaches  a  figure  verj 
close  to  the  temporary   one. 

To  he  sure,  most  alimony  questions  are  settled 
out  ol  court  before  the  final  trial,  by  separation 
agreement.  But  the  bargaining  is  based  on  the 
well-known  attitudes  of  the  courts,  which  will 
be  the  final  arbiter  it  negotiations  break  down. 
No  matter  how  alimony  controversies  arc  settled, 
they  rest  on  outmoded  considerations  which 
ought  to  be  changed. 

ROUGH-AND-TUMBLE     JUSTICE 

OU  R  alimony  laws  should  be  revised  in 
three  basic  ways:  First,  the  position  of 
women  in  the  modern  world  should  be  rec- 
ognized. 

Second,  fault— except  gross  fault  like  adultery 
or  willful  abandonment— should  be  eliminated 
as  a  critc  lion. 

Third,  courts  should  be  able  to  force  the 
spouses  to  give  an  accurate  picture  of  their 
finances. 

The  best  yardstick  courts  could  use  in  award- 
ing alimony  is  what  might  be  called  the  woman's 
"net  need"— that  is,  what  she  really  needs,  con- 
sistent with  her  former  standard  of  living,  after 


Ik  i  assets  and  earning  power  have  been  evalu- 
ated. Where  then  is  no  true  need,  no  award 
should  be  made.  The  question  of  fault,  except 
in  extreme  eases,  such  as  adulter)  or  willful 
abandonment,  should  be  set  aside  because',  in 
most  contemporary  divorces,  both  sides  are-  re- 
sponsible lor  the  marriage's  failure,  no  matter 
which  spouse  asked  to  end  it. 

Finally,  all  courts  should  follow  the  enlight- 
ened example  ol  Cleveland,  Cincinnati,  Toledo, 
St.  Louis,  and  Detroit  and  adopt  a  sociological 
approach  to  alimony  awards.  The  well-staffed 
courts  in  these  citie-s  ie'e|iiiie  both  spouses  to 
fill  out  detailed  financial  questionnaires  that 
force  some  degree  of  exactness.  Furthermore, 
the  \  are  equipped  to  investigate  the  truth  of  the 
e  laims. 

These  reforms  could  be  made  without  changes 
in  statutory  law— that  is,  laws  passed  by  state 
legislatures.  As  most  of  the  laws  now  lead, 
alimony  should  be  "adequate"  or  "sufficient," 
but  the  actual  amount  is  left  to  the  court  to 
determine.  The  judges  work  from  what  is  called 
decisional  law— the  body  of  legal  theory  built 
up  over  the  years  by  the  state  courts  deciding 
similar  cases  before  them.  In  most  instances  the 
courts  themselves  are  free  to  make  the  needed 
alterations. 

Under  medieval  law  there  was  a  kind  of  rough- 
and-tumble  justice  by  ordeal  in  which  the 
parties  stood  with  their  arms  crossed  over  their 
breasts,  and  the  one  who  endured  the  longer 
was  declared  the  winner.  We  are  still  too  close 
to  this  kind  of  justice  in  our  divorce  cases. 
Alimony  will  never  be  an  easy  problem  to  solve, 
but  we  can  help  both  husbands  and  wives  by 
bringing  our  alimony  customs  up  to  date. 


SO   THAT'S  WHAT'S   BEEN  HOLDING   US   BACK 


W 


H  E  N  we  were  boys,  boys  had  to  do  a  little  work  in  school.  They  were  not 
coaxed;  they  were  hammered.  Spelling,  writing,  and  arithmetic  were  not  elec- 
tives,  and  you  had  to  learn. 

In  these  more  fortunate  times,  elementary  education  has  become  in  many 
places  a  sort  of  vaudeville  show.  The  child  must  be  kept  amused  and  learns 
what  he  pleases.  Many  teachers  scorn  the  old-fashioned  rudiments;  and  it  seems 
to  be  regarded  as  a  misfortune  and  a  crime  for  a  child  to  learn  to  read  and 
spell  by  the  old  methods.  As  a  result  of  all  the  improvements,  there  is  a  race 
of  gifted  pupils  more  or  less  ignorant  of  the  once-prized  elements  of  an  ordinary 
education. 


-New  York  Sun,  October  5,   1902. 


Philip  W.  Barber 


Tom  Wolfe 
Writes  a  Play 


His  stay  at  Harvard  to  study  playwriting  was 

a  drama  in  itself.  .  .  .  An  old  friend  describes 

Wolfe's  explosive  days  there  and  tells  of 

the  tragic  death  of  the  man  on  whom  he  based 

one  of  his  most  intriguing  characters. 

IM  E  T  Tom  Wolfe  when  he  was  twenty-two 
and  in  his  second  year  of  graduate  work  at 
[Harvard.    I  was  nineteen,  fresh  from  Iowa,  and 
like  Tom,   painfully   self-conscious,   and   hostile 
ko  everyone  who  seemed  to  be  at  ease  with  the 
Mew  England  culture  that  we  had  come -so  far 
to  absorb;  it  was  on  this  basis  that  our  relation- 
ship was  established. 

Tom  was  a  member  of  George  Pierce  Baker's 
English  47  A  (advanced  playwriting)  and  I  was 
n  English  47,  the  first  year  course,  so  it  was  some 
A'eeks  before  we  met.  One  October  afternoon, 
mowing  few  people  and  having  nothing  better 
:o  do,  I  headed  for  Massachusetts  Hall,  the  red- 
orick,  gambrel-roofed  building  dating  from  1700 
and  the  oldest  building  in  the  Harvard  Yard, 
rlere  the  maintenance  superintendent  had  his 
jffices,  and  here  Baker's  famous  47  Dramatic 
Workshop  had  been  allotted  space,  as  President 
-owell  considered  the  practicing  theater  socially 
md  academically  on  a  level  with  carpentry, 
)lumbing,  and  minor  repairs.  Baker  occupied 
tiny  box  of  an  office,  partitioned  off  in  one 
orner  of  a  large  two-story  open  space  that  was 
ised  for  building,  painting,  and  storing  scenery, 
ind  for  rehearsals  and  playwriting  classes. 

As  I  crossed  the  Yard  I  saw  a  familiar  figure 
pproaching— Kenneth  Raisbeck,  Baker's  assist- 
nt  and  a  playwriting  student  with  the  advanced 
,roup.  Rather  fragile  without  being  particularly 
mall,    he   walked   smoothly    and    gracefully,    as 


though  he  knew  who  he  was,  where  he  was  going, 
and  why.  At  his  side  was  a  shambling  giant, 
hatless,  without  a  topcoat,  shaggy  uncut  brown 
hair  tumbling  about,  lumbering  uncertainly 
along,  almost  balancing  from  one  foot  to  the 
other  as  he  tried  to  slow  his  naturally  long  and 
rapid  strides  to  Raisbeck's  gait. 

It  was  Raisbeck,  however,  who  held  my  atten- 
tion. A  rather  cherubic  face  with  apple  cheeks 
and  curly  dark  hair  was  balanced  by  eyes  that 
had  an  electric  intelligence  and  were  at  the  same 
time  warm  and  merry.  I  had  had  an  experience 
in  class  with  his  sharp  criticism  and  sympathetic 
insight.  He  joined  in  argument  with  the  zest 
of  a  seventeenth-century  bravo  testing  his  sword 
in  a  street  fight,  and  with  the  grace  of  a  skilled 
duelist.  He  would  indifferently  take  on  Baker 
or  the  whole  class,  but  abstained  from  group 
attack  on  a  bleeding  playwright. 

Now  on  this  bright  Indian  summer  afternoon 
I  felt  how  well  Raisbeck  would  have  fitted  into 
an  earlier,  more  colorful  century.  He  was  flam- 
boyantly blended  in  shades  from  wheaten  to 
light  brown;  English  tweeds,  tan  topcoat,  brown 
shoes,  and  an  elegant  hat  that  had  never  been 
jumped  on,  thrust  into  a  corner,  put  under  the 
mattress,  or  otherwise  made  to  resemble  the 
classic  Harvard  hat;  these  items  were  set  off  by 
a  yellow  Malacca  cane  that  he  lightly  and  pre- 
cisely whisked  along,  and  by  a  jaunty  young 
Irish  terrier,  pure  wheaten  color,  who  amazingly 
had  somehow  been  taught  perfect  English  man- 
ners and  who  trotted  along  as  precisely  as  Rais- 
beck, wearing  his  bright  green  collar  with  an  air. 

We  met  near  the  door  of  Mass  Hall  and 
Raisbeck  nodded  and  smiled  at  me  as  though 
the  meeting  were  a  real  pleasure;  he  spoke  a 
few  words  to  his  terrier,  hung  his  cane  on  the 
low  limb  of  a  nearby  tree,  and  as  the  dog  settled 
obediently  under  the  cane  I  found  myself  be- 
ing introduced  to  Tom  Wolfe.  Raisbeck  had 
business  in  Baker's  office  and  he  left  us  together. 
Tom  and  I,  still  shaking  hands  and  mumbling 
greetings,  looked  each  other  over.  I  was  re- 
assured by  Tom's  embarrassment  and  awkward- 
ness, and  he,  I  imagine,  by  mine.  We  relaxed 
and  started  tossing  exploratory  questions  and 
answers  back  and  forth. 

However  far  apart,  Asheville,  North  Carolina, 
and  Mason  City,  Iowa,  had  given  to  Tom  and 
to  me  a  good  deal  in  common.  Tom  was  like 
a  hundred  people  I  had  known  in  the  Midwest. 
His  hunger,  violence,  physical  vigor*,  and  run- 
of-the-mouth  were  thoroughly  familiar.  To  do 
too  much,  eat  too  much,  talk  too  much,  and 
dream  too  much  were  characteristics  that  I  knew 


TOM    WOLFE    WRITES    A    P  L  A  Y 


from  childhood.  Tom  seemed  flatteringly  inter- 
ested in  me,  and  I  answered  his  questions  eagerly, 
Inn  these  moments  ol  give-and-take  conversation 
were  to  be  rare.  Tom  talked  essays,  dramas, 
and  narratives,  and  he  no  more  expected  to  hear 
from  his  audience  than  an  actor  on  stage  would 
expect   comment   from  beyond  the  footlights. 

PSYCHIC     CANNIBALISM 

ON     THIS  afternoon  he  chose  the  essay 
form;   his   topic,   recent  graduates  of  the 
Workshop  and  the  more  challenging  playwrights 

in  his  own  class.  Philip  Barry,  whose  comedy 
writing  Tom  neither  understood  nor  wanted  to 
understand,  was  demolished  l>\  a  beai's-paw 
sweep  ol  heavy  ridicule.  Roscoe  Brink,  whose 
charming  play,  "Catskill  Dutch  to  Her,"  was 
to  be  tin  second  production  ol  the  year,  was 
next.  Kindly,  gentle,  witty  (usuall)  at  his  own 
expense),  lb  ink  was  a  more  difficult  subject  lor 
Tom,  so  challenging  that  Tom  was  still  grap- 
pling with  the  problem  ol  what  to  make  of 
Ibink  when  he  was  writing  the  Cambridge 
sequences  in  his  novel  Of  Time  and  the  River, 
where  Brink  is  lampooned  as  Oswald  Ten  F.vk. 

To  Henry  Iiskc  Carleton,  latei  i  radio  writer 
of  distinction,  he  gave  his  enthusiastic  atten- 
tion, however.  A  play  by  Carleton  had  been 
the  fust  Workshop  production  of  the  fall.  Deal- 
ing with  the  itinerant  workers  of  the  wheat 
harvest,  it  was  a  type  ol  play  that  Baker  seemed 
lo  lavor— the  regional  charactei  study.  Its  rather 
unfortunate  name,  "Slug,"  gave  bom  his  text, 
and  he  joyously  ripped  into  the  plot,  charac- 
ters,  and  dialogue;  the  dramatic  feeling  was 
sluggish,  the  characters  were  slugs  and  worms, 
and  spiritual  inspiration  absent  as  in  the  slug 
■  >l   a   ponderous  fist. 

As  Tom  cut  and  caned  and  tore  and  pounded, 
his  excitement  grew,  and  vitality  entered  into 
him.  His  eyes,  usually  wary  and  distant,  became 
more  prominent;  his  chest  expanded,  his  voice 
took  on  volume  and  power;  and  he  held  him- 
self taller  and  straighter.  His  head  thrust  for- 
ward, fiercely  nodded  for  emphasis.  Even  his 
shirt  seemed  to  become  excited,  the  drooping 
points  of  his  collar  turning  up  and  out,  his 
tie  slipping  to  the  side.  Words  seemed  to  be 
coming  into  his  mouth  in  great  groups,  to  be 
spit  forth  one  at  a  time.  Remembered  now,  it 
seems  virulent  gossip  raised  to  high  intensity, 
but  Tom's  lusty  pleasure  and  pure  happiness  in 
demolishing  made  his  verbal  brawling  exciting, 
even  as  I  mentally  footnoted  his  critical  diatribes 
with  dozens  of  tactual  exceptions. 


At  some  moment  during  Tom's  ps\chic  can- 
nibalism Raisbeck  had  reappeared.  He  did  not 
like  Tom's  performance.  His  face  was  tight, 
his  eyes  blank,  as  though  l>\  mechanical  control 
he  had  tinned  oil  his  human  reactions.  Some- 
how he  dammed  the  How  ol  words.  Perhaps  it 
was  siinph  thai  loin,  with  his  terrible  sensi 
tivity,  grasped  the  unspoken  disapproval.  They 
went  oil  across  the  Yard  together,  Raisbeck 
leaving  the  feeling  ol  a  warm  smile  behind,  Tom 
waving  back  at  me  with  a  sweep  of  the  arm, 
and  the  Irish  terrier  trolling  at   Raisbeck's  heel. 

During  the  winter  1  saw  little  of  Tom  beyond 
greetings  in  passing,  a  wave,  or  a  nod.  In  April, 
however,  I  began  to  spend  three  or  four  hours 
with  him  daily.  Baker  had  put  Tom's  play, 
"Niggertown,"  into  rehearsal,  chastely  rechris- 
tened  lor  Cambridge  audiences,  "Welcome  to 
Our  City,"  and  I  was  stage  manager.  Tom's 
pla\  was  an  bout -and-a-hall  overlong,  by  pre- 
O'Neill  standards,  and  Tom  had  refused  to  cut 
it  in  advance  of  rehearsals,  confident  that  the 
enthusiasm  ol  the  actors  lot  his  lines,  and  the 
sheer  magic  of  his  writing  would  work  a  spell 
on  Baker.  Professor  Baker,  with  his  firm  belief 
that  all  human  beings,  even  playwrights  and 
actors,  were  susceptible  to  reason,  was  equally 
sure  that  the  need  for  drastic  cutting  would  be 
evident  to  Tom  as  soon  as  the  play  was  "on 
its  feci.' 

The  first  days  of  reheat  sal  were  without  in- 
cident. The  principal  actors  read  through  the 
play,  sitting  in  a  semicircle  in  the  paint-spattered 
wooden  chairs,  the  same  chairs  we  used  for  play- 
writing  class.  A  single  droplight  provided  illu- 
mination, but  breaking  with  theater  tradition, 
this  "work''  light  was  shaded,  and  cast  its  light 
in  a  great  pool,  leaving  most  of  the  two-story 
room  in  shadows.  Baker  sat  well  inside  the  circle 
of  light,  facing  the  actors,  his  script  resting  on 
a  narrow  wooden  table.  A  little  to  the  side  of 
Baker  was  the  stage  manager's  table,  where  I 
laid  my  script,  pencils  ready  lor  cuts  or  notes. 
Tom  sat  close  by  to  glance  at  my  script,  though 
he  never  did.  He  must  have  known  every  line 
in   the  play  by  heart. 

Beyond  us  in  the  shadows  the  scene-docks 
loomed,  filled  with  scenery  of  past  productions. 
There  was  a  smell  of  paint  and  glue  and  lum- 
ber, wonderfully  unlike  classroom  or  college. 

As  the  actors  started  their  readings,  Baker 
leaned  forward  eagerly.  His  eyes,  flashing  be- 
hind his  beribboned  pince-nez,  darted  back  and 
forth  from  script  to  actors'  faces  with  a  driving 
will,  occasionally  illuminated  by  an  expression 
of  sardonic  humor. 


BY    PHILIP    W.    BARBER 


73 


Tom  lounged  back  in  one  of  the  small  chairs, 
stretched  out  almost  horizontal,  as  though  to 
bring  himself  down  to  the  level  of  the  rest  of 
the  world;  at  times  he  would  lunge  upright, 
twisting  sideways  and  winding  a  long  arm 
around  the  back  of  the  chair;  and  then  rest- 
lessly he  would  throw  himself  forward,  chin  on 
his  fists,  elbows  on  his  knees,  but  always  intent 
on  the  words  issuing  from  the  actors'  lips.  He 
was  quick  with  joyous  laughter  at  a  line  he 
considered  humorous.  This  pleased  the  actor, 
of  course,  and  irritated  Professor  Baker. 


ACASSIZ  HOUSE  THEATRE 

MAY    II   an.l   12,   1923 


The  47  Workshop 

l'HI'.SF.NTS 

WELCOME  TO  OUR  CITY 

A  PLAY  IN  TEN  SCENES 

BY 

THOMAS  CLAYTON  WOLFE 


TOM'S  play  was  exciting  to  me  because 
it  struck  savagely  at  the  pretentiousness, 
hypocrisy,  and  cultural  absurdities  of  a  small 
town  that  happened  to  be  in  the  South  but 
might  as  well  have  been  in  the  Middle  West. 
Woven  through  the  play  is  a  satire  on  boost- 
ers and  Babbitts— the  secretary  of  the  Board  of 
Trade  and  other  representatives  of  the  com- 
mercial interests  of  Altamount— who  are  all 
hell-bent  for  bigness  and  regard  size  as  the 
essence  of  "Progress."  From  time  to  time  Tom 
stopped  the  action  of  the  play  and  used  minor 
characters  to  lambaste  the  YMCA,  politics,  the 
Governor  of  the  state,  and  the  local  community 
drama  group. 

But  all  these  lampoons  and  satires  are  side- 
show entertainments.  The  dramatic  heart  of 
the  play  is  the  struggle  between  Mr.  Rutledge, 
a  Southerner  of  the  magnolia  and  Grecian  col- 
umns tradition,  and  Dr.  Johnson,  a  mulatto 
doctor  who  now  owns  and  lives  in  the  old  Rut- 
ledge  family  home.  Rutledge  is  negotiating  to 
regain  possession  of  the  house  when  Dr.  John- 
son discovers  young  Lee  Rutledge  seducing  his 
daughter.  He  "insults"  the  boy  by  "laying 
hands  on  him"  and  angrily  refuses  to  sell  his 
home  to  the  boy's  father.  The  "insult"  is 
eventually  revenged  by  young  Rutledge  (in  the 
uniform  of  a  National  Guard  officer)  who  shoots 
Johnson  during  riot  duty  in  Altamount,  and 
the  disputed  house  is  burned  by  white  rioters. 


Tom's  portrayal  of  the  white  hypocrisies  and 
injustices  to  the  Negro  seems  modern,  but  he 
is  fascinated  by  the  old  aristocratic  tradition, 
and  it  is  largely  the  "white  trash"  whom  he 
makes  responsible  for  what  is  ugly  in  Altamount. 

Dr.  Johnson  is  a  Negro  of  strong  character 
and  intelligence,  Tom  leads  us  to  believe,  only 
because  of  his  white  heritage.  The  aristocratic 
Mr.  Rutledge  is  suitably  unhappy  when  the 
violence  that  erupts  is  climaxed  by  his  son's 
murder  of  Dr.  Johnson,  and  he  expresses  his 
sorrow  poetically: 

"My  life  is  creeping  home  on  broken  feet." 

A  moment  later  he  gives  Tom's  epitaph  for 
the  dying  Dr.  Johnson: 

"Poor  fool!  Why  did  you  choose  to  become 
a  man?" 

Of  course  there  were  no  Negro  actors  in  the 
47  Workshop,  and  in  1923  it  would  not  have 
occurred  to  anyone  to  bring  them  in.  Baker, 
with  an  eye  for  realism,  cast  the  Negro  char- 
acters as  far  as  possible  with  young  men  of 
Southern  background  belonging  to  the  Harvard 
Dramat.  The  cast  was  very  good.  Among  those 
that  I  remember  as  outstanding  were  John  Davis 
Lodge  as  the  young  Southern  aristocrat,  Lee 
Rutledge,  who  shoots  Dr.  Johnson;  Richard 
Aldrich,  who  doubled  in  the  play  as  a  school- 
teacher dismissed  because  of  his  belief  in  evo- 
lution, and  as  the  tight-lipped  colonel  of  the 
militia;  Leon  Pearson  as  the  absurdly  preten- 
tious little  politician  who  becomes  Governor; 
and  Dorothy  Sands  who  played  Dr.  Johnson's 
seductive  daughter. 

The  play  as  published  last  October  in  Esquire 
was  somewhat  longer  than  the  cut  version  per- 
formed at  Cambridge.  In  its  original  state  it 
contained  more  burlesque  and  lampooning  of 
small-town  manners,  which  even  then  seemed 
embarrassing,  although  I  was  fiercely  sympa- 
thetic to  the  play.  It  was  primarily  these  passages, 
which  held  up  the  story,  that  Baker  was  de- 
termined to  eliminate.  As  he  went  about  the 
cleaning  away,  a  second  drama  was  played  in 
the  rehearsal  room. 

About  a  week  after  rehearsals  had  begun,  and 
the  actors  were  moving  about  in  the  scenes, 
Baker  stopped  the  rehearsal,  turned  to  Tom  and 
suggested  that  he  would  like  to  make  such  and 
such  cuts,  or  at  least  to  have  the  actors  replay 
the  scene  with  the  cuts  to  see  whether  anything 
was  gained.  Tom  made  a  gesture  of  agreement, 
promptly  followed  by  reasons  why  he  felt  the 
lines  in  question  should  be  left  in.  Baker  listened 
politely,  then  turned  to  the  actors  and  read 
them   the   cuts.    As   he  read,   Tom,   now  sitting 


71 


TOM    WOLFE    WRITES    A    PLAY 


erect,  began  weaving  back  and  Eortli  in  his 
(hair  like  a  polar  beai  suffering  from  tin  In  at. 
and  as  Baker  finished  l; i \  i n u,  the  (uis  to  the 
actors,  Tom  sprang  to  his  feel  with  a  tortured 
yell,  and  rushed  out  into  the  night. 

There  was  a  moment's  astonished  pause.  Then 
Baker  matter-of-factly  asked  the  casl  to  reread 
the  scene,  with  the  cms.  Rather  subdued,  they 
did  so.  \t  the  end  Baker  said,  "Let's  keep  it 
that  way  lor  the  time  being,"  and  the  rehearsal 
went  on. 

Ten  or  fifteen  minutes  later  Tom  walked 
in,  quietly  and  casually,  and  look  his  seat  as 
though  he  had  been  out  for  a  cigarette.  There 
was  no  further  reference  to  that  (in.  and  no 
visible  pain  manifested  by  Tom  when  the  scene 
as  <ut  was  played  the  next  night. 

But  this  electrifying  explosion,  this  leaping 
up,  hands  waving,  with  a  bellow  ol  distress,  look 
place  ever)  time  a  (  ui  was  made  for  the  first 
time,  li  began  to  be  something  we  rather  looked 
forward  to,  since  the  blowup  was  apparently 
harmless,  always  followed  by  Tom's  matter-of- 
fa<  t   return   to  rehearsal. 

At  all  times  Tom's  attitude  toward  ns  who 
were  working  on  the  play  was  friendly,  amiable, 
encouraging.   He  showed  a  capacity  for  pleasant 


Thomas   Wolfe  has  already  said  everything,  I  tell  you! 


small  talk  and  he  even  listened  to  people,  asking 
polite  questions,  uttering  small  words  ol  agree- 
ment, and  generally  acting  suspiciously  like  a 
Southern  gentleman. 

Raisbeck  sporadically  attended  rehearsals,  as 
he  did  of  oilier  productions,  expressed  no  opin- 
ions, .nid  in  general  effaced  himself,  sitting  well 
back  in  the  unlighted  area.  He  was  present  one 
night  when  Tom  erupted;  shortly  alter,  and 
before  Tom  returned,  he  quietly  left. 

Opening  night  went  oil  well,  as  did  the  second 
and  final  performance.  The  invited  audiences, 
having  then  coffee  in  the  large  room  behind  the 
stage  in  Agassi/  House  at  Radelille,  seemed  to 
me  lively  and  far  more  interested  and  excited 
than  was  usually  the  case.  On  the  second  eve- 
ning Theresa  Helburn  ol  the  Theater  Guild 
came  up  to  see  the  play  at  Baker's  invitation, 
and  the  exeited  rumor  that  spread  among  us- 
was  that  she  liked  it.  and  that  Tom  was  to  send 
his  script  to  the  Guild  lor  consideration. 

The  next   I   heard  ol   Tom  was  the  following 
fall.     I    was    sitting    in    Baker's    office    when    he 
looked  up  from  a  letter  he  was  reading  and  said: 
"Listen   to  this  from  Tom   Wolfe: 
''1  have  been  having  "Welcome  to  Our  City" 
copied    to    submit    to    the    Guild.     The    young 
stenographer  who  is  copying  it 
lor  me  has  just  come  to  the  first 
(lit    that    you    made.    She    broke 
into    laughter    at     the    comedy 
lines.    Needless  to  say  I  am  put- 
ting back  everything  in  the  play 
that  you  cut  out,  so   it   will   be 
exactly  as  it  was  before  produc- 
tion.' " 

Baker  put  the  letter  down  and 
sat  quietly  for  a  few  moments 
with  a  rather  grim  look.  Then 
the  sardonic  smile  triumphed, 
though  there  was  an  unaccus- 
tomed weariness  on  his  lace. 

The  next  time  I  saw  Tom  was 
the  summer  of  1924.  I  had 
stayed  on  at  Harvard  summer 
school  to  work  off  some  deficien- 
cies in  French,  and  I  ran  into 
Tom  one  afternoon  in  Harvard 
Square.  He  was  lonely,  was 
doing  nothing  in  particular  al- 
though he  told  me  he  was  sup- 
posed to  be  doing  some  research 
in  the  Harvard  library. 

We  made  a  date  for  the  next 
evening.  Neither  of  us  had 
money  beyond  that  required  lor 


BY    PHILIP    W.    BARBER 


75 


the  bare  minimums,  we  neither  of  us  knew  any- 
one in  Cambridge  whom  we  could  drop  in  on 
that  summer,  so  the  only  recreation  open  to  us 
was  walking.  My  stride  was  as  long  as  Tom's  so 
we  could  walk  in  harmony.  Tom  seemed  preoc- 
cupied, until  I  touched  on  the  subject  of  food. 
Our  imaginations  soared,  we  described  meals  we 
would  like  to  be  eating.  Perpetually  hungry,  we 
compared  notes  on  the  quantity  that  we  could 
consume  at  a  sitting.  This  was  painful,  under 
the  circumstances,  and  we  dropped  the  subject, 
ending  up  at  the  Waldorf  Cafeteria  in  Harvard 
Square,  sipping  hot  cocoa  (five  cents  each). 

THE     FORGOTTEN     CLUE 

SITTING  over  this  thin  nourishment, 
Tom  told  me  a  recent  experience  that  was 
bothering  him.  He  had  met  with  some  casual 
friends  who  had  a  car,  they  had  too  much  to 
drink,  and  had  ended  by  being  picked  up  by 
some  small-town  cops  in  South  Carolina.  Tom 
had  been  thrown  into  a  cell;  later  he  thought  he 
saw  a  Negro  in  the  cell  with  him.  He  had  been 
so  upset  that  he  had  screamed  and  banged  at  the 
door  until  he  passed  out;  when  he  came  to,  the 
Negro  was  gone.  The  question  disturbing  Tom 
was:  had  the  Negro  ever  been  there,  or  had 
he  imagined  him?  This  was  all  the  story 
amounted  to,  but  Tom  told  it  in  the  greatest 
detail,  describing  minutely  every  remembered 
impression  during  the  evening. 

On  the  third  evening  that  we  walked,  Tom 
began  going  over  the  story  for  the  fourth  or 
fifth  time,  as  though  he  were  seeking  some  for- 
gotten clue.  I  became  impatient.  I  could  not 
see  that  it  made  the  slightest  difference  whether 
the  Negro  had  been  in  the  cell,  or  Tom  had 
imagined  him.   I  said  so.  Tom  turned  on  me. 

"It  doesn't  make  a  Goddamn  bit  of  difference, 
but  I  want  to  know!" 

"So  he  was  in  the  cell." 

"They  wouldn't  do  that  in  South  Carolina; 
put  a  white  man  in  a  cell  with  a  nigger." 

"You're  so  much  better  than  a  Negro?" 

"Damn  it,  if  they  did  it,  it  was  an  insult  to 
me,  and  they  meant  to  insult  me!" 

"So   they  meant   to  insult   you." 

"Maybe  I  made  him  up!" 

"Maybe  you  did.    So  what?" 

"If  I  did,  why?  Why  did  that  come  into  my 
mind?" 

"Because  'Welcome  to  Our  City'  put  Negroes 
in  your  mind." 

"You  think  so?  And  I  made  him  up?  He 
wasn't  in   the  cell?" 


"I  don't  know,  and  neither  do  you." 

But  it  seemed  he  had  to  know,  and  he  kept 
worrying  it  until  my  impatience  finally  silenced 
him. 

I  avoided  Tom  for  a  week  or  more  and  by 
then  he'd  left  Cambridge.  In  the  fall  he  and 
Raisbeck  went  to  Europe;  in  that  same  fall  of 
1924  Of  Time  and  the  River  records  that  Eugene 
Gant,  who  is  Tom,  and  Francis  Starwick,  who 
by  every  physical  description  and  detail  of  life 
we  must  identify  with  Raisbeck,  also  went  to 
Europe,  where  their  close  relationship  and  its 
"tortured,  tangled  web  of  hatred,  failure,  and 
despair"  came  to  its  disastrous  end. 

Back  in  Cambridge  the  47  Workshop  sus- 
pended for  the  year  while  Baker  took  a  sab- 
batical; and  in  February  it  was  announced 
that  Baker,  and  the  Workshop,  would  resume  at 
Yale,  under  the  patronage  of  Edward  L.  Hark- 
ness,  who  was  providing  a  million-dollar  theater 
plant  and  an  endowment  for  a  School  of  Drama. 
This  was  probably  a  great  relief  to  President 
Lowell,  who  evidently  had  not  felt  that  it  was 
politic  to  toss  Baker  out  of  Harvard,  but  who 
had  done  his  best  to  make  clear  how  unwelcome 
the  living  theater  was.  Massachusetts  Hall  had 
been  taken  from  Baker  in  the  fall,  for  rebuilding 
in  fireproof  form  as  a  historic  monument,  and 
for  use  as  a  dormitory,  and  Baker  had  been 
offered  in  its  place  an  opportunity  to  share  a 
shabby  brownstone  building  with  Harvard's 
janitorial  staff.  Reluctantly  he  made  the  choice 
of  giving  up  his  comfortable  Brattle  Street  home 
and  starting  afresh  at  Yale. 

THE     DEATH     OF     STARWICK 

AF  T  E  R  a  little  time  in  New  York  in  vari- 
ous odd  jobs  in  the  theater  I  ended  up  at 
Yale  teaching  in  the  new  Drama  School,  assist- 
ing Baker  in  the  teaching  of  his  playwriting 
course. 

I  believe  it  was  in  1929  that  Raisbeck  paid  us 
a  visit  there,  the  first  time  I  had  seen  him  in 
four  years.  I  was  happy  to  see  him.  His  bright- 
ness and  warmth  were  pleasant  memories  of 
Harvard.  Now  Raisbeck  looked  tired,  and  lacked 
that  quality  of  hopeful  expectation  he  had  had. 
I  chattered  along  to  cover  my  concern  and,  of 
course,  had  to  ask  the  obligatory  question. 

"How's   your   play   coming?" 

"I'd  be  grateful  if  you'd  read  it." 

I  told  him  I'd  be  glad  to,  but  his  request  con- 
fused me.  Raisbeck  had  always  seemed  so  pene- 
trating and  wise  in  his  analysis  of  plays,  so  sure 
of  himself. 


76 


TOM    WOLFE    WRITES    A    I'LAV 


"I've  sold  ii.  hut  tlu\  think  it  isn'l  right.  I've 
11  done  n  .a  leasl  three  times.  Please  tell  me 
what  you  think." 

llis  ])l;i\  was  ,i  comedy  of  manners,  but  as 
tight  and  unhappy  as  his  face.  I  tried  to  find 
ways  ol  talking  creatively  about  it.  but  there 
was  no  essence  ol  personalis  in  it.  Raisbeek 
couldn't  find  Raisbeek.  so  how  could  I?  I  had 
a  low  opinion  ol  in\  critic  ism  but  it  seemed 
useful  to  Raisbeek  lor  he  said  In  would  rework 
the  play  and  asked   il    I    would   read   it   again. 

"Of  course,  and  good  luck  with  it."  I  didn't 
mention  Tom.  lor  their  quarrel  had  been 
gossiped  about   lot    some    lime. 

Raisbeek  died   six   months   later. 

It  was  a  lew  days  aftei  I  had  heard  of  his 
death  that  I  came  into  the  front  office  about 
four  o'clock  one  afternoon  and  found  Tom  sit- 
ting on  the  edge  ol  a  desk  waiting  to  see  Baker. 
His  continuing  attachment  to  baker  seems  curi- 
ous, lor  his  actions  and  words  nevei  indicated 
any  loudness,  and  the  portrait  of  Professor 
Hatcher  in  Of  Time  and  the  Rivet  seems  to  me 
a  cold  one.  Evidently  Baker's  kindness  and 
warmth  were  more  important  to  him  than  Tom 
ever   admitted. 

Tom  and  I  said  hello  as  though  we  had  met 
yesterday.  I  asked  il  he  had  heard  about  Rais- 
beek, and  then  I  was  sorry,  for  he  reacted  as 
i hough  I  had  pulled  a  trigger.  His  voice  deep- 
ened, he  grew  huge,  and  I  listened  to  a  fantastic 
story  of  Raisbeek's  death— a  sioi\  that  f  later 
learned   Tom    told    to   a   good    main    people. 

He  said  that  Raisbeek  had  borrowed  a  car 
to  drive  to  New  Haven  (with  the  rewritten 
script"')  and  had  picked  up  a  young  man  lor 
company.  On  the  way,  somewhere  near  Green- 
wich where  Route  One  passes  a  cemetery,  Rais- 
beek. overcome  b\  lust  (this  was  Tom's  word) 
had  abruptly  slopped  the  car.  dragged  the  young 
man  out  of  the  car  and  into  the  cemetery  in 
an  attempt  to  assault  him:  the  young  man  had 
fought  back  but  was  losing  the  fight  when  his 
hand  found  a  stone  with  which  he  hit  Raisbeek 
on  the  head,  killing  him.  Leaving  Raisbeek 
among  the  graves  the  young  man  had  run  away. 
Later,  the  police  seeing  the  parked  car  by  the 
cemetery,  had  investigated,  found  Raisbeek's 
body,  and  had  reconstructed   the  crime. 

I  thought  the  story  nonsense  and  said  so.  Aside 
from  Raisbeek's  comparative  physical  fragility 
was  the  evidence  ol  his  character.  His  gentle- 
ness, his  kindness,  his  taste  made  it  impossible. 

Furious,  Tom  shouted  at  me,  "Raisbeek  was 
nothing  but  an  Illinois  farm  boy.  That's  where 
he  A\as  born,  on  an   Illinois  farm!" 


The  liu\  in  Tom's  voice  and  lace  and  the 
ugliness  ol  his  stor\  sickened  me.  and  I  left 
him  abruptly; 

Several  hours  latei  Tom  had  gone  and  I  saw 
Baker,  told  him  the  stor}  Tom  had  related. 
Baker's  lace  turned  grim  and  sad.  He  told  me 
that  he  had  given  Tom  the  report  ol  the  ex- 
amining physician.  Tom  had  just  nodded  his 
head.  The  lac  is  ol  Raisbeek's  death  Baker  had 
learned  from   the  doctor  were  these: 

Raisbeek  died  of  acute  spinal  meningitis,  which 
can  be  latal  within  a  few  hours  from  the  first  feel- 
ing of  illness.  During  these  hours  the  victim 
sullcis  almost  unbearable  pain.  Raisbeek  had 
evidentl)  fell  ill,  stopped  the  car,  and  staggered 
into  the  cemetery,  tearing  at  his  collar,  floun- 
dering about  until  he  fell  among  the  gravestones. 

THE     ACT     RETURNS 

Fl  V  I  years  after  Raisbeek  died.  Of  Time 
and  the  River  was  published.  Mv  distress 
over  Tom's  distortion  ol  Raisbeek's  death  came 
between  me  and  the  book.  I  did  read  through 
the  Cambridge  sequences,  and  flinched  at  the 
cartoons  ol  men  and  women  who  thought  they 
were  Tom's  friends.  Recently,  thinking  about 
Tom.  I  pie  keel  up  the  book  again  and  read  it 
through. 

Most  ol  the  characterizations  e>l  the  people  1 
had  known  still  seemed  to  me  to  be  cartoons, 
but  I  found  gentle,  even  lender  and  warm  words 
mixed  with  the  derision.  I  found  that  Tom  had 
decided  it  was  better  to  be  insulted  by  the  slate 
ol  South  Carolina  than  to  believe  that  he  had 
dreamed  up  the  Negro  in  the  cell  as  a  bugaboo. 

As  lor  Tom  and  Raisbeek:  in  Of  Time  and 
the  River,  alter  Eugene  Gant  elenounces  Star- 
wick  as  "a  dirty  little  fairy,"  after  his  raging 
attack  on  Starwick,  there  is  a  passage  that 
seems  an  answer  to  my  anger  at  Tom's  slander 
of  Raisbeek: 

"There  are  some  people  who  possess  such  a 
natural  dignity  of  person— such  a  strange  and 
tare  inviolability  of  flesh  and  spirit— that  am 
insult,  above  all,  any  act  of  violence  upon  them 
is  unthinkable.  II  such  an  insult  be  inteneled, 
.  .  .  the  act  returns  a  thousandfold  upon  the 
one  who  does  it:  his  one  blow  returns  in  all 
the  shame  and  terror  of  inexpiable  memory. 
Starwick  was  such   a   person." 

Reading  this,  I  realized  that  any  pity  I  might 
feel  belonged  to  Tom  rather  than  to  Raisbeek; 
for  the  love  and  interplay  and  hate  between 
them  has  been  recorded  by  Tom,  and  will  go  on 
and  on;  Tom's  act  of  violence  and  his  shame. 


Harper's  Magazine,  May  1958 


After  Hours 


GET     IN     THERE 

AND     LENS  ! 

It 

■  deride  Lewis  Allen  in  The 
■g   Change    said    that    he    had 

■  istonished,  when  he  and  Mrs. 
I  were    collecting    photographs 

■  eir    several    historical    picture 

■  on  the  American  scene,  to  clis- 
flhow  few  photographs  existed 
Binary  scenes  of  daily  life.  What 

0  praphers  seemed  to  like  to  re- 
Bras  the  extraordinary,  the  dra- 

I  the  romantic,  high  life  and 
Be,  but  not  just  life  as  it  is  lived 
flu  people.  It  is  barely  possible, 
Bliat  the  picture  magazines  de- 
B)  much  of  their  energies  to  try- 

I  pin  down  "normal"  families, 
Biture  historians  will  not  have 

■  lien's  problem  when  they  in- 
fl.te   our   era.    Futhermore    the 

camera  and  the  indiscrimi- 
flshooting"  which  it  encourages 
Bive  added  mile  upon  mile  of 
Bves  to  family  archives. 

1  if  this  happens,  it  will  be  the 
ljeverse  of  what  I  saw  encour- 
flit  ihe  National  Photography 
flat  the  Coliseum  in  New  York 
fl'  February.  I  went  there  on  a 
fj  ay  afternoon  with  a  young 
I  who  is  a  budding  professional 
flrrapher.     We    had    hoped    to 

■  ut  what  was  new  in  film  and 
Band  cameras,  but  we  never  did. 

place    swarmed    with    men 

I  omen  carrying  cameras  slung 

I I  their    necks;    the    floor   was 
with     used    flashbulbs    and 

■  Hive  folders;  the  air  was  filled 
flhe  conflicting  strains  of  half-a- 
I  manufacturers  of  tape  record- 


ers demonstrating  the  hi-fi  quality 
of  their  wares  with  bits  of  "South 
Pacific,"  operatic  arias,  and  band 
music.  Through  the  din  you  could 
hear  the  soft  sell  going  on  as  soft 
sellers  poured  their  honey  into  mi- 
crophones. The  virtues  of  flashbulbs 
were  being  extolled  from  one  be- 
ribboned  booth;  the  Polaroid  Land 
Camera  (you  now  get  a  negative  as 
well  as  a  print  in  sixty  seconds) 
from  another;  and  techniques  for 
lighting  portraits  from  another.  In 
other  booths  as  gaudy  as  stalls  on 
a  midway,  men  and  women  sat  on 
folding  chairs  with  glazed  eyes  and 
hands  limp  in  their  laps,  all  too  obvi- 
ously benumbed  by  the  noise  and 
the  crowd  and  wishing,  surely,  that 
I  and  my  kind  would  go  away  and 
leave  them  alone. 

To  me  the  most  surprising  aspect 
of  this  corner  of  bedlam  was  the 
number  of  people  carrying  cameras. 
Had  they  come  to  show  their  cameras 
off?  Surely  not.  Were  they  so  ad- 
dicted to  their  cameras  that  they 
never  took  them  off  except  in  the 
shower?  Unlikely.  Why,  then?  They 
must  have  come  to  the  photographic 
show  to  take  pictures  which,  as  was 
soon  apparent,  is  just  what  they  did. 
The  exhibitors  had  thoughtfully 
made  it  possible  for  them  to  take 
pictures  that  would  look  just  like 
everybody  else's  pictures  and  some- 
thing like  the  pictures  in  popular 
photography  magazines. 

"Follow  that  girl,"  I  said  to  the 
young  man  with  me.  A  ravishing 
blonde  in  what  looked  like  a  wed- 
ding dress  with  a  considerable 
crinoline  under  it  was  working  her 
way  through  the  crowd.  We  lost  her. 


But  we  found  other  girls  who  were 
sitting  prettily  on  platforms  sur- 
rounded by  lights  and  smiling  the 
undying  but  lifeless  smile  of  the 
professional  model.  They  held  a 
pose  for  a  few  seconds,  then  moved 
their  heads,  canted  their  shoulders, 
raised  and  lowered  their  arms  and 
their  eyelids  and  the  shutters  clicked 
around  them.  In  the  section  of  the 
exhibition  devoted  to  cameras  made 
in  Japan  (big  threat  to  the  Amer- 
ican manufacturers,  mark  you!)  a 
little  Japanese  lady  in  a  kimono 
stood  under  the  slightly  projecting 
-eaves  of  a  sort  of  tea  house.  She 
held  artificial  carnations  and  looked 
up  languidly  at  Japanese  lanterns. 
My  young  friend  took  a  picture  of 
her.    He  selected  an  oblique  angle. 

"What  a  waste  of  film,"  he  said. 

We  headed  in  the  direction  of  a 
young  lady  in  a  red  dress  and  red 
hat,  the  feast  of  several  dozen  pairs 
of  eyes  and  half  as  many  lenses. 
(Incidentally,  did  you  know  that 
there  is  now  a  verb  to  lens  and  that 
lensing  is  its  participle?  I  came  on 
it  in  one  of  the  press  releases.) 

"What  a  way  to  earn  a  buck,"  my 
friend  said,  but  he  seemed  beguiled 
in  spite  of  himself. 

From  the  pictures  that  were  dis- 
played it  was  plain  that  the  "extraor- 
dinary shot"  is  the  desirable  ambi- 
tion set  for  amateur  photographers. 
What  life  is  like  seems  to  be  of 
little  interest;  that  would  be  record- 
ing the  humdrum.  The  ultimate 
goal  of  amateur  photography  seems 
to  be  technique,  not  pictures;  it  is 
not  what  but  how.  Just  as  many  hi-fi 
fans  care  less  about  what  music  they 
hear  than  about  range  and  balance, 
so  the  amateur  photographer  worries 
about  print  quality,  grain,  film 
speed,  and  depth  of  focus.   He  cares 


78 


AFTER    II  O  U  R  S 


passionatel)  about  the  craft  ol  pho- 
tography,  its  lore,  and  i t •>  language. 
This  will  obviouslv  never  solve 
the  problem  thai  Mr.  Mini  had  in 
finding  photographs  <>l  the  common- 
place. The  trouble  lies  in  the  fact 
that  there  are  very  Eew  people  (Mr. 
Allen  was  one)  who  know  when  the 
commonplace  is  uncommonly  re- 
vealing. The  fact  that  there  are 
now  millions  of  people  snapping 
pictures  with  increasingly  foolproof 
equipment  does  not  mean  that  our 
era  will  be  any  better  recorded  than 
the  nineteenth  century.  It  will 
merely  have  been  seen  bv  more 
lenses  with   their  almost  uncontrol- 


lable tendencies  to  romanticize,  and 
their  natural  inclination  to  overlook 
the  merer)  interesting. 

Bui  maybe,  just  maybe,  out  in 
Dubuque,  somebody  is  doing  foi 
Iowa  in  this  century  what  Atget,  who 
was  a  Frenchman  with  a  box  camera, 
did  for  Paris  in  the  last  century. 
It's  one  road  to  immortality. 

DAMN     SCANDAL 

ON  C:  E  upon  a  time  there  was 
a  good  foreign  movie.  It  won 
the  Grand  Prize  at  Cannes  and  the 
(.olden  Gate  award  in  San  Francisco, 
where  it  ran  lor  two  months;  in  Lon- 


A      A 


THE    MENAGERIE    AT    VERSAILLES    IN    177  5 

(From  a  notebook  kept  by  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson) 

CYGNETS  dark;    their  black   feet; 

on   the  ground;   tame. 

Halcyons,  or  gulls. 

Stag  and  hind,  small. 

Aviary,  very   large:    the  net,  wire. 

Black  stag  of  China,  small. 

Rhinoceros,   the  horn   broken 

and  pared  away,  which,   I  suppose, 

will  grow;   the  basis,   I   think, 

four  inches  'cross;   the  skin 

folds  like  loose  cloth  doubled  over  his  body 

and  'cross  his  hips:   a  vast  animal, 

though  young;   as  big,  perhaps, 

as  four  oxen. 

The  young  elephant, 
with  his  tusks  just  appearing. 
The  brown  bear  put  out  his  paws. 
All  very  tame.  The  lion. 
The  tigers  I  did  not  well  view. 
The  camel,  or  dromedary  with  two  bunches 
(ailed  the  Huguin,   taller  than  any  horse. 
Two  camels  with  one  bunch. 

Among  the  birds  was  a  pelican, 

who  being  let  out,  went 

to  a  fountain,  and  swam 

about  to  catch  fish.   His  feet 

well  webbed:   he  dipped  his  head, 

and   turned  his  long  bill  sidewise. 

—John  Updike 


srvmV-* 


<? 


4> 


-€■ 


4* 


-& 


don  the  New  Statesman  called  it 
masterpiece."    So   it   came   to   Ne 
York,     where     there     are     thirty* 
theaters  devoted   to  "art"  films  ai 
an  audience  of  thousands.    No  sail 
No  theater  wanted  it. 

Why?  Time  magazine  quizzed 
number  ol  managers  and  elicited  tl 
following  replies:  "No  sex  .  .  ."  sa 
one.  "I  like  it,"  said  another,  "b 
it  wouldn't  make  money  .  .  .  besidi 
a  little  girl  dies.  .  .  ."  And  agai 
"These  peasants  live  in  huts 
customers  live  on  Park  Avenm 
Opposite  his  column  in  the  N( 
York  Post,  where  Archer  Winst 
lambasted  the  theater  owners  f 
their  short-sightedness,  could  be  se 
the  enormous,  bosomy  ad  of  t 
Little  Carnegie  lor  "The  Adulters 
—"in  the  terrifying  tradition 
'Diabolique'   ..." 

Not  to  put  too  fine  a  point  on 
the  so-called  art  theaters  are  now 
the  business  of  sex  and  sensatJ 
They  began  years  ago  with  a  missi 
and  a  clientele,  and  they  struggli 
the  name  "sure-seater"— meaning  tl 
you  could  always  find  a  seat— Vj 
not  willingly  earned.  "Harvesj 
"Quai  des  Brumes,"  "The  Bakej 
Wife,"  "Carnival  in  Flanders"— ( 
can  scarcely  think  of  the  magnific 
prewar  importations  without  thii 
ing  of  the  theaters  that  were  co 
ageous  enough  to  show  them,  to  l 
passionate  few.    But  no  longer. 

The  unshown  film  in  question 
(ailed    "Pather    Panchali."     It    y 
made  in  Bengal,  after  heart-breaki 
delays   and   financial   difficulties,  \ 
an    Indian   director  named   Satya 
Ray.    It  is  in  the  great  tradition' 
documentary  carved  out,  at  simi| 
pain,  by  our  own  Bob  Flaherty;  aj 
it    is    a    worthy   descendant    of 
tribe.    It   is   beautiful,   it  cares,  a 
it  understands  about  the  camera 
don't  know  what  more  we  can  a 
It  is  still  being  offered  for  distri 
tion  by  a  man  named  Ed  Harris 
who   has   gone   to   bat   for   unost 
tatious   films  of  great  merit   befi 
There  are  indications  it  will  bn 
through   into  some   theaters  in 
early  summer.    If  in  doubt,  go. 

The  story  is  taken  from  a  nO| 
of  the  same  name  (it  means 
little  road")  written  by  Bibhut 
husan  Bannerji  and  serialized  ii 
popular  Bengali  magazine  dur 
the  1930s.  The  book  was  publisl 
a  year  or  so  later  and  has  been 


AFTER    HOURS 


fchdian  best-seller  list  ever  since. 
U  movie  takes  the  plot  only  part 
M  and  prunes  a  good  bit  of  it; 
■even  so  the  narrative  is  far 
H  tightly  constructed. 
H he  script  had  to  retain  some  of 
i\  mbling  quality  of  the  novel . . ." 
j  Satyajit  Ray  in  the  magazine 
I  and  Sound.  "Life  in  a  poor 
lili  village  does  ramble." 
men  I  first  saw  "Pather  Pan- 
last  year,  in  the  course  of 
H dngs  for  an  international  film 
It,  what  struck  me  most  was  the 

■  ?  to  which  it  is  mercilessly 
Bic  about  India.  Normally  I 
■>t  think  of  the  vast  sub-conti- 
'i  as  overly  eager  to  examine  its 
flrue  state  of  affairs,  as  opposed 
I  dreams  and  pretentions.    Fan- 

■  of    Indian    "culture,"    as    op- 

to  actual  and  unbearable 
m,  are  precisely  the  subject  of 
ler  Panchali,"  and  its  moral  is 
n. elf-delusion  does  no  good.  I 
fll  honor  an  Indian  movie  so 
u  for  arguing  this  case  that  I 
1/  know  how  to  begin  praising 
■iat  is,  in  addition,  marvelously 
II 'one. 
:e  again,  if  you  can,  make  it. 

A     POET,     SIR? 

[  R.  J  O  H  N  UPDIKE,  who 
Lis  a  poet  of  parts  (his  first 
Ibf  poems,  just  out,  is  called  The 
ntered  Hen  and  Other  Crea- 
deposes  that  while  reading 
illy  through  the  unabridged 
■/  Samuel  Johnson,  by  Boswell, 
ne  across  some  notes  Johnson 
in  France. 

teir  texture  seemed  startlingly 
n,"  he  says,  "especially  the 
i  on  the  zoo  at  Versailles." 

Updike  then  discovered  that 
on's  prose  broke  very  well  into 
and  stanzas— with  the  results 
e  on  page  78.       —Mr.  Harper 


But  Why  Don't  YOU  Pray 
To  The  Saints? 


Praying  to  the  Saints,  we  know,  is 
almost  solely  a  Catholic  practice. 

Many  other  people,  it  seems,  regard 
the  practice  as  silly,  futile  and  even  idola- 
trous. They  imagine  that  all  prayers 
must  be  addressed  directly  to  God,  and 
that  there  is  no  need  for  such  intercessors 
and  mediators  as  Saints.  Indeed,  some 
seem  to  think  that  the  Catholic  venera- 
tion of  the  Saints  is  in  opposition  to  the 
doctrine  that  Christ  is  the  one  Mediator 
between  God  and  man. 

If  it  is  hard  for  others  to  understand 
why  Catholics  pray  to  the  Saints,  it  is 
equally  hard  for  Catholics  to  understand 
why  other  Christians  do  not  so  pray.  It 
is  a  custom  which  has  been  observed 
in  the  Church  since  the  time  of  the 
Apostles.  Its  merits  are  clearly  indicated 
in  both  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New, 
and  Catholics  the  world  over  can  testify 
that  God  does,  indeed,  listen  with  special 
favor  to  the  prayers  addressed  to  Him 
in  our  behalf  by  His  friends,  the  Saints. 

It  sounds  illogical  to  Catholics  to  re- 
cite in  the  Apostles'  Creed,  "I  believe  in 
.  .  .  the  Communion  of  Saints  .  .  ."  and 
then  to  scoff  at  prayer  to  the  Saints. 
The  difficulty,  it  seems  to  us,  is  that 
there  is  confusion  concerning  just  what 
the  Saints  are.  There  is  certainly  con- 
fusion concerning  the  Catholic  attitude 
toward  Saints,  and  Catholic  customs  with 
respect  to  them. 

Belief  in  the  Saints  depends  upon  the 
conviction  that  we  can  help  one  another 
with  our  prayers.  Catholics  have  no 
doubt  about  this.  We  read,  for  example, 
in  Genesis,  God's  instructions  to  Abime- 
lech  to  ask  Abraham  to  pray  for  him: 
"He  shall  pray  for  thee,  and  thou  shalt 
live"  (Genesis  20:  7,17). 

God  had  mercy  on  the  children  of 
Israel  because  Moses  prayed  for  them. 
At  another  time  God  said  ". . .  and  my 
servant  Job  shall  pray  for  you;  for  him 
I   will   accept"    (Job  42:8).  The  new 


Testament  contains  equally  convincing 
testimony.  St.  Paul  asks  repeatedly  for 
the  prayers  of  the  faithful.  In  the  Epistle 
of  St.  James,  we  find:  "And  pray  one  for 
another  that  ye  may  be  healed"  (James 
5:16). 

If  God  heeds  the  prayers  offered  by 
sinful  mortals  in  behalf  of  one  another, 
how  much  more  surely  will  He  listen  to 
His  friends,  the  Saints  in  Heaven,  who 
are  in  a  position  to  know  the  needs  ex- 
pressed in  our  prayers  to  them?  If  the  in- 
dividual appeal  "of  one  for  another"  is 
heard  in  Heaven,  how  much  more 
certainly  will  God  hearken  to  the  swell- 
ing chorus  of  prayer  rising  up  from  the 
"communion  of  the  faithful"  in  Heaven 
and  on  earth?  And  if  the  Saints  in 
Heaven  are  not  concerned  for  us,  why 
should  there  "be  joy  in  the  presence  of 
the  angels  of  God  over  one  sinner  that 
repenteth"  (Luke  15:10)? 

If  you  want  to  know  more  about  the 
Saints  and  how  they  can  help  you,  write 
today  for  our  Free  Pamphlet  entitled: 
"But  Why  Don't  YOU  Pray  To  The 
Saints?"  It  will  be  mailed  in  a  plain 
wrapper.  Nobody  will  call  on  you.  Write 
today— ask  for  Pamphlet  No.  D-47. 


SUPREME   COUNCIL 
KNIGHTS  OF   COLUMBUS 
RELIGIOUS   INFORMATION   BUREAU 
4422  Lindell  Blvd.,  St.  Louis  8,  Missouri 

Please     send     me    your     Free     Pamphlet    entitled: 
"But  Why   Don't  YOU   Pray  To  The  Saints?" 

D-47 


NAME_ 


ADDRESS- 


ESTATE- 


SUPREME        COUNCIL 

KHIGHTS  of  COLUMBUS 

RELIGIOUS      INFORMATION      BUREAU 


4422      LINDELL      BLVD 


LOUIS     8,     MISSOURI 


the  new 


BOOKS 


Numbers  and  Enigmas 


PAUL   PICKREL 


IN  A  curious  little  hook,  his  fust  addressed  to 
a  popular  audience  in  man]  years,  the  famous 
Swiss  psychologist  C.  G.  Jung  has  set  clown  some 
ol  his  ideas  aboul  what  is  wrong  with  the  world 
and  what  can  be  done  about  it:  The  Undis- 
covered Self  (Atlantic-Little,  Brown,  $3).  The 
point  of  departure  is  essentially  very  simple:  we 
should  not  accept  statistics  as  a  final  description 
of  reality.  According  to  [ung,  the  "distinctive 
thing  about  real  facts  ...  is  their  individu- 
ality; .  .  .  absolute  reality  lias  predominantly 
the  chara<  tei  ol  h  regularity." 

At  bottom,  Jung  is  defending  a  religious  view 
ol  human  life  against  a  statistical  view,  defend- 
ing the  uniqueness  ol  the  individual  against 
whatever  denies  that  uniqueness,  whether  it  is 
the  external  pressure  ol  the  totalitarian  state 
and  other  impersonal  social  organizations  or 
the  internal  collapse  of  the  individual's  sense 
that  he  is  anything  more  than  a  collection  of 
data  to  be  processed  by  an  IBM.  If  you  translate 
Jung's  terminology  into  more  conventional  lan- 
guage, what  you  have  left  is  a  sermon  on  the 
reality  of  the  human  spirit  and  the  need  for 
brotherly  love. 

The  book  is  not  strikingly  original,  its  message 
is  not  very  different  from  what  a  good  many 
people  are  saying  and  have  said  in  a  variety  of 
ways,  and  what  is  most  personal  about  it— its 
reliance  on  the  view  of  the  human  psyche  that 
Jung  has  spent  a  lifetime  in  developing  and 
elaborating— may  not  be  entirely  clear  to  those 
who  do  not  have  some  slight  previous  acquaint- 
ance with  the  system.  Yet  it  is  a  pleasure  to 
follow  the  somewhat  discursive  talk  of  its  eighty- 
three-year-old  author,  and  one  need  not  accept 
all  of  his  system  to  acknowledge  the  value  of 
his  insight  into  the  important  theme  he  explores. 

THE     LAND     OF     STATISTICS 

JOHN  GUNTHER  laces  a  formidable  task 
in  his  new  book,  Inside  Russia  Today  (Harper, 
$5.95),  if  he  is  not  to  fall  beneath  the  very  high 


standard  he  set  himself  in  his  last.  Inside  Africa, 
and  probably  it  is  now  harder  to  write  a  lively 
hook  about  Russia  than  about  Africa.  For  one 
thing,  most  leaders  can  be  counted  on  to  bring 
to  a  work  on  Africa  an  almost  unblemished 
ignorance  of  the  subject,  and  consequently  what- 
ever they  learn  will  be  news  to  them.  But  books 
and  articles  about  Russia  have  been  coming  at 
us  in  such  numbers  lor  so  many  years  that  it  is 
hardly  possible  lor  a  literate  American  not  to 
regard  himsell  as  something  ol  an  authority  on 
the  subject  by  this  time. 

For  another  thing,  a  lot  of  Africa  still  exists 
in  the  pie-statistical  era.  Much  of  it  can  only 
be  presented  through  its  sights  and  colorful 
customs  and  vivid  personalities,  because  precise 
figures  about  population,  production,  and  so  on 
simply  are  not  available.  Russia,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  the  land  where  the  statistical  mind  has 
triumphed.  Statistics  in  Russia  are  so  ubiquitous, 
Gunther  says,  that  the  traveler  even  finds  them 
on  signboards  along  the  roads.  The  statistics 
may  not  always  be  right  but  they  are  certainly 
plentiful,  and  the  reporter  on  Russia  laces  a 
double  problem— as  a  writer  he  must  give  the 
reader  the  facts  without  inducing  the  boredom 
that  comes  to  most  people  when  they  read  end- 
less numbers,  and  as  an  interpreter  he  must 
assess  the  accuracy  of  the  statistics  as  a  guide 
to  reality. 

Gunther  has  solved  these  problems  very  satis 
factorily.  It  would  be  worth  any  aspiring  jour- 
nalist's while  to  study  how  he  solves  the  problem 
of  holding  the  reader's  interest  while  giving  him 
the  facts.  It  is  not  a  feat  of  style;  Gunther's 
prose  seldom  rises  above  the  workmanlike,  and 
occasionally  it  is  not  that  good.  One  device  he 
uses  is  to  move  back  and  forth  between  figures 
and  observations;  if,  for  instance,  he  gives  a  list 
of  the  most  popular  writers  in  Russia  he  will 
immediately  follow  the  tabulation  with  some 
detail  he  observed  in  a  Moscow  bookstore.  Or 
if  a  good  many  figures  are  inevitable,  Gunther 
gives  the  reader  fair  warning— "It's  going  to  be 
dull  for  a  page  or  two,"  he  says  in  effect,  "but 
hold  on  and  things  will  improve."    He  does  not 


THE 


Mackerel 
Plaza 


k  \ 


Hailed  by  Kingsley  Amis  as  "the  funniest  writer 
on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic,"  and  by  Time  as 
"the  best  comic  novelist  in  the  U.  S.,"  De  Vries 
has  produced  "his  most  dashing  performance  to 
date  in  The  Mackerel  Plaza,"  says  The  Atlantic, 
"ingenious,  intricate  and  enormously  funny." 

$3.75 
By  PETER  DE  VRIES 

Author  of  THE  TUNNEL  OF  LOVE 


THE  WORLD  OF 

Evelyn 
Waugh 


Edmund  Wilson  has  called  Evelyn  Waugh 
"the  only  first-rate  comic  genius  that  has  ap- 
peared in  English  since  Bernard  Shaw."  And 
here,  in  one  big  volume,  are  generous,  self- 
contained  sections  from  eight  of  Waugh's  nov- 
els, and  in  its  entirety  that  "stop-at-nothing 
parody  of  the  portentous  themes  of  love  and 
death"  —  The  Loved  One.  $6.00 

Edited  with  an  introduction  by 
CHARLES  ROLO 


"I  doubt  if  Jung  has  ever  written  anything 
of  more  importance  and  greater  value  for 
the  general  reader."  —  J.  B.  Priestley. 
"I  hope  that  this  book  will  be  widely  read, 
not  only  for  its  own  sake,  but  also  to  help 
bolster  up  in  intelligent  individuals  what 
is  left  of  our  ancient  self-reliance  and  in- 
tegrity."— Carleton  S.  Coon.  $3.00 

By  C.  G.  JUNG 


The  Eye  of 
the  Storm 

A  NOVEL  OF  THE  WEST   INDIES 


ffc 


An  extraordinary  novel  of  "love,  lust  and  the 
lust  for  power"  in  the  Caribbean  island  that 
closely  resembles  the  author's  native  Jamaica. 
"Builds  up  to  a  tremendous  climax.  Mr.  Hearne 
is  a  first-rate  story-teller.The  evocation  of  the 
whole  island,  its  birds,  beasts,  flowers  and  hu- 
mans, remains  with  one  unforgettably.  It  would 
be  worth  reading  for  the  description  of  the  hur- 
ricane alone."—  The  London  Observer.     $4.00 

By  JOHN  HEARNE 


*AI  Smith 

and  His  America 


f/anf/c  Monthly  Press  Books 


Senator  John  P.  Kennedy  says,  "For  the 
first  time  in  my  reading  I  have  come  across 
a  book  which  etches  clearly  the  place  of  Al 
Smith."  And  Robert  Moses  calls  Oscar 
Handlin's  book,  "The  first  genuine  biography 
of  Governor  Smith.  I  commend  it  as  a  full 
length  Rembrandt  light-and-shadow  por- 
trait of  a  truly  remarkable  American."  $3.50 

By  OSCAR  HANDLIN 


LITTLE,  BROWN  &  COMPANY  •  boston 


82 


THE    NEW    KOOKS 


overdramatize  figures;  he  will  ordinarily  give 
some  basis  ol  comparison  (number  of  Russian 
physicians  per  100,000  people  versus  the  number 
of  American  physicians  per  100. 000)  but  he  does 
not  tell  you  that  if  all  the  people  who  have  been 
in  Soviet  slave-labor  ramps  were  stood  on  top 
ol  one  another  they  would  reach  from  here  to 
wherever. 

ANOTHER  strategy  of  Gunther  as  a  writer  is 
that  he  never  flatters  the  leader  where  it  matters. 
When  Gunther  says  thai  the  atmosphere  of  a 
certain  Moscow-  restaurant  resembles  the  atmos- 
phere ol  a  certain  German  restaurant,  he  permits 
the  reader  to  regard  himsell  as  a  prett)  world!} 
fellow,  on  terms  ol  eas)  familiarity  with  the 
more  celebrated  dining  places  of  the  world,  but 
when  it  comes  to  something  important  like 
Khrushchev's  speech  to  the  Twentieth  Party  Con- 
gress, Gunther  wisely  does  not  assume  that  the 
reader  has  ever  read  it,  and  spends  several  pages 
summarizing  and   analyzing   the  contents. 

What  Jung  would  call  the  statistical  view  of 
life  Gunther  calls  puritanism,  but  as  he  uses 
the  word  it  means  more  or  less  the  same  thing— 
the  attitude  that  nothing  counts  in  life  except 
what  can  be  counted.  And  this  outlook  Gunther 
certainly  found  predominant  in  Russia.  Part  of 
the  dominance  of  puritanism  may  arise  from 
the  fact  that  a  great  many  prominent  Russians 
have  come  up  from  nothing  (one  man  of  eon- 
sequence,  with  an  advanced  technical  education, 
told  Gunther  that  he  is  the  first  member  of  his 
entire  tribe  to  learn  to  read  and  write),  and 
these  newcomers  doubtless  feel  a  little  uncer- 
tainty about  social  usage.  Consequently  there  is 
an  enormous  interest  in  what  is  called  "culture," 
which  apparently  means  what  is  proper  and 
socially  acceptable.  When  the  middle  classes  of 
the  West  were  new  they  too  were  puritanical  in 
that  way. 

But  Gunther  uses  puritanism  to  describe  far 
more  than  the  manners  of  the  arrivistes;  he  uses 
it  to  indicate  the  drabness,  uniformity,  the 
denial  of  fun  that  he  finds  the  chief  character- 
istic of  Soviet  life.  There  are  islands,  of  course: 
music,  theater,  and  ballet  are  superb;  Gunther 
mentions  an  occasional  individual  with  a  sense 
of  play;  and  some  of  the  people  at  the  top  ob- 
viously enjoy  the  exercise  of  power  tremendously 
—Khrushchev,  for  instance,  pretty  clearly  gets  a 
bigger  kick  out  of  running  things  than  any 
Western  politician  seems  to,  possibly  because  he 
has  to  put  up  with  so  much  less  back-talk.  But 
for  most  Russians  life  is  certainly  very  drab. 

Probably  a  good  deal  of  the  spontaneity  and 
inventiveness  and  love  of  fun  that  in  most 
soc  ieties  goes  into  daily  life  goes  into  science  in 
Russia.  Puritanism  and  science  have  often  gone 
hand  in  hand,  because  science  is  the  one  place 
where  fooling  around  may  pay  off  in  something 


that  can  be  counted.  Certainly  Gunther  found 
Soviet  science  extraordinarily  bold  (and  extraor- 
dinarily well  financed);  such  schemes  as  a  plan 
to  induce  a  false  spring  in  the  northern  part  of 
the  country  by  painting  the  snow  black  get  a 
serious  hearing  and  are  tried  out. 

Gunther  has  an  extremely  good  sense  ol  the 
kind  ol  thing  that  will  interest  the  readers  and 
of  what  kind  ol  question  will  present  itself.  One 
exception  comes  to  mind.  Early  in  the  book  he 
describes  the  terrible  drabness  ol  the  Moscow- 
crowds,  their  horrible  housing,  and  the  very  low 
standard  ol  living.  Then  lie  savs  that  prac- 
tically everyone  in  Moscow  would  look  better 
if  he  lost  thirty  pounds.  Does  he  mean  that  in 
spite  of  the  low  living  standard  people  are 
well  led?  Apparently  the  explanation  comes 
main  pages  later  when  he  oilers  the  information 
that  the  diet  is  80  per  cent  starch  (bread  and 
potatoes). 

Although  Gunther  traveled  extensively  in  Rus- 
sia in  the  winter  ol  I9.r><>  and  certainly  lost  no 
opportunity  to  look  at  things  for  himsell.  In- 
side Russia  Today  is  to  a  considerable  extent  a 
work  ol  scholarship.  Many  of  the  sources  are 
no  more  obscure  than  the  New  York  Times, 
and  there  is  probably  no  subject  discussed  that 
is  not  more  fully  treated  in  some  other  book  or 
article  or  newspaper  column.  But  he  has  brought 
an  enormous  amount  ol  information  together, 
uniting  it  under  the  general  problem  of  finding 
out  how  much  Russia  has  changed  since  Stalin's 
death.  He  leaves  no  doubt  that  there  has  been 
a  thaw,  but  he  is  by  no  means  sure  that  spring 
is  here.    (A  Book-of-the-Month  Club  selection.) 

INSIDE     RUSSIA     YESTERDAY 

A  Very  Far  Country  by  E.  M.  Almadingen 
(Appleton-Century-Crofts,  $4)  is  a  fine 
book  about  an  Englishwoman  who  married  a 
wealthy  Russian  and  spent  seventeen  years  in 
Imperial  Russia  in  the  middle  of  the  last  cen- 
tury. It  wotdd  be  well  worth  reading  in  any 
company,  but  to  read  it  along  with  Gunther's 
book  is  particularly  enjoyable. 

Ellen  Sou  thee,  the  woman  who  dominates 
A  Very  Far  Country,  was  born  near  Canterbury 
in  the  same  year  as  Queen  Victoria,  1819.  She 
had  a  fairly  conventional  girlhood,  and  then  her 
father  lost  so  much  money  by  gambling  that  the 
family  had  to  ptdl  up  stakes  and  go  abroad  in 
search  of  less  expensive  living  accommodations. 
After  several  years  in  cheap  lodgings  in  various 
European  cities,  they  landed  in  St.  Petersburg, 
and  through  the  machinations  of  their  devoted 
French  governess  (the  daughter  of  a  French 
emigre  who  had  been  brought  up  in  the  family), 
they  were  introduced  to  local  society.  There 
Ellen  met  and  fell  in  love  with  one  Sergei  de 
Poltorat/kv,  essentially  a  scholar  but   a  man   ol 


fi 


•:H-:v- 


Isaiah  Scroll  from  Dead  Sea  Cave — 
one  of  many  ancient  manuscripts  pictured 
in  full  color  in  Volume  12. 
m  '-  "■' '■-'-"■■■'■' •■■'::■ 


le  sum-total  of  biblical  knowledge 
...at  your  finger  tips! 

THE  INTERPRETER'S  BIBLE 

-in  12  volumes 

»i  vast  treasure-trove  of  biblical  knowledge — the  work  of  146  of  the 
ling  teachers,  preachers,  and  scholars  of  the  Protestant  world — is 
■  de  available  to  you  in  THE  INTERPRETER'S  BIBLE,  Christen- 
ing most  comprehensive  commentary. 

■vnd  you  will  find  THE  INTERPRETER'S  BIBLE  easy  to  consult 
l!  convenient  to  use.  For  instance,  these  renowned  scholars  explore 

I  you  every  scriptural  passage  from  Genesis  to  Revelation — and  their 
Ik  is  presented  on  the  same  page  with  the  text  in  both  the  King  James 

I I  Revised  Standard  versions.  By  using  the  indexes  in  Volume  12,  you 
I  locate  all  references  to  any  subject  or  any  scriptural  passage  in  the 
C  iplete  set. 

Its  you  develop  the  "look  it  up  in  THE  INTERPRETER'S  BIBLE" 
|iit,  you  will  find  your  questions  answered  with  the  most  accurate 
I  )rmation  available — and  you  will  also  find  the  best  insights  of  devout 
lolars  into  the  meaning  of  biblical  passages.  As  you  use  this  commen- 
I',  you  will  discover  more  and  more  that  it  has  the  vitality  of  Christian 
lerience  and  conviction,  together  with  the  inspiration  of  genuine 
I  Dlarship. 

I'our  purchase  of  THE  INTERPRETER'S  BIBLE  will  be  an  in- 
1  :ment  of  lasting  value.  Examine  the  complete  set  at  your  bookseller's 
<  ]y'  12  volumes;  each,  $8.75 


V 


Special  Features... 

A  wealth  of  background 
material  and  special  informa- 
tion! 

A  series  of  General  Articles 
covers  vital  subjects  on  the 
Bible  as  a  whole  and  on  each 
Testament  individually.  In 
Volume  12,  for  example,  you 
will  find  a  General  Article  on 
"The  Dead  Sea  Scrolls"  and 
a  companion  article,  "Illus- 
trated History  of  the  Biblical 
Text,"  which  includes  16 
pages  of  magnificent  color 
photographs  of  ancient  man- 
uscripts. 

Each  biblical  book  is  pre- 
ceded by  a  scholarly,  yet  high- 
ly readable  Introduction. 
These  Introductions  alone 
comprise  an  invaluable  li- 
brary of  biblical  knowledge. 

Many  outline  maps  depict 
the  biblical  settings  .  .  .  Full- 
color  topographical  maps  on 
the  end  sheets  of  each  vol- 
ume show,  in  vivid  relief,  the 
physical  features  of  the  bib- 
lical world. 


VISIT  YOUR   BOOKSTORE  SOON 


ffoe  hew6ook 


AFTERNOON  OF 
AN  AUTHOR 

by  F.  Scott  Fitzgerald 

With  an  Introduction  and  Headnotcs  by 
ARTHUR  MIZENER 

A  selection  of  Fitzgerald  stories  and 
essays  never  before  published  in  book  form. 
"It  could  be  possible  for  anyone  without  the 
faintest  personal  interest  in  Fitzgerald  ...  to 
get  great  pleasure  from  this  collection. . . . 
There  is  not  a  dead  sentence  . . .  not  a  moment 
when  Fitzgerald's  magic  fails  to  work." 
—London  Times  Literary  Suppli  ment     $4.50 


FIRST  BLOOD 

The  Story  of  Fort  Sumter 


by  W.  A. 


(Wanoerg  . 

author  of  Sickles,  the  Incredible 

"Spirited   and  interesting  ...  It  is  a  fine 

book,   deserving  a   prominent  place   on   the 

lengthening  shelf  of  Civil  War  literature." 

—  BRUCE  catton,  N.  Y.  Herald  Tribune 

"A  fine,  exciting,  vigorous,  and  vivid  book." 
— RICHARD  B.  HARWELL,  Chicago  Tribune  $5.95 


At  all  bookstores 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


.?  I     w  ■■■• 


THE    NEW    li  ()  O  K  S 

\ast  fortune,  v\  ith  seven  estates  in  five 
provinces.  Nol  onl)  was  he  much 
older  and  richer  than  Ellen,  but  he 
had  a  wife  who  had  disappeared  in 
mysterious  circumstances  sonic  years 
before  and  now  must  be  declared 
legally  dead  before  he  could  remarry. 
But  at  last  all  difficulties  were  sur- 
mounted; the  couple  were  married 
in  two  services,  one  Orthodox,  one 
Anglican,  and  they  went  to  live  on 
an  extensive  estate  near  the  town  of 
Kaluga. 

Alter  seventeen  years  and  hall- 
a-dozen  children,  Ellen  and  Sergei 
discovered  that  through  misplaced 
trust  the  seven  great  estates  had 
incited  away;  they  had  little  left 
except  her  jewels  and  a  large  amount 
ol  money  Sergei  had  deposited  years I 
before  in  Paris.  So  they  went  to 
Paris  where  Sergei  quietly  pursued 
his  scholarly  career  and  Ellen  super- 
vised her  scattered  family.  They  sur- 
vived the  Siege  of  Paris  in  1871,  but 
thereafter  their  scale  of  living  was 
reduced,  and  when  Sergei  died  a 
lew  years  later.  Ellen  discovered  that 
their  money  was  all  gone.  It  had 
never  been  invested;  Sergei  had 
deposited  it  as  spending  money 
when  he  was  very  rich  and  appar- 
ently it  did  not  occur  to  him  to 
alter  the  arrangements.  Fortunately 
Ellen  never  laced  actual  want,  and 
lived  out  the  last  years  ol  her  long 
life  in  Rome,  where  one  ol  her 
daughters  had  married  into  the 
Italian  nobility.  Miss  Almadingen, 
who  has  written  A  Very  Far  Country, 
is  a  granddaughter. 

The  heart  of  the  book,  the  account 
of  Ellen's  Russian  years,  is  like  an- 
other chapter  from  War  and  Peace, 
Ellen  and  Sergei  lived  on  an  in 
credibly  sumptuous  scale— even  when 
there  were  no  guests  forty  people 
regularly  sat  down  to  dinner.  Every 
thing  was  lavish,  open-handed,  waste- 
ful. Ellen  tried  to  fight  the  waste 
and  she  hated  serfdom  from  the 
moment  she  encountered  it,  but  she 
came  to  love  the  Russian  country 
side  and  her  marriage  was  very 
happy.  She  was  a  brave  and  charm 
ing  and  forceful  woman,  who  fortu 
nately  was  much  given  to  expressing 
herself  in  letters  and  journals,  some 
of  which  survive. 

In  an  absorbing  passage  in  Inside 
Russia  Today  Gunther  attempts  tc 
assess  how  contemporary  Russian; 
are   faring  in   comparison   with   the 


John  G withers  greatest  book 

one  that  every  American  —  at  home  or  abroad  — 
needs.  The  book  has  no  equal  for  its  penetrating 
analysis  of  Russian  problems  and  her 
place  in  the  sun." -justice  william  o.  douglas 


II1SIDE 


loony 


I  he  product  of  the  inexhaustible 
Hergy  and  immense  curiosity  of  one 
|  the  most  knowledgeable  journal- 
:  s  now  alive  . . . 

J]  "Among  the  matters  covered :  the 
Ink  and  feel  of  Moscow ;  Soviet  atti- 
:  ies  toward  us ;  the  private  and 
]  blic  lives  of  the  top  leadership; 
Itrushchev  —  here  is  perhaps  the 
1st  available  sketch  in  English  of 
]  rhaps  the  most  powerful  man  in 
la  world  and  outlying  space ;  'a  his- 
|T  of  Russia  in  half  an  hour,'  a 
j  m  of  condensation;  a  geographi- 
i  and  topographical  sketch  of  all 
i  the  Soviet  republics;  the  struc- 
Ire  of  the  government  and  the 
rty;  Khrushchev's  policy  of  de- 
i  alinization ;  the  cultural  picture ; 
1 3  economic  picture;  the  military 
]  :ture ;  a  short  tour  of  Leningrad, 
ffi3  Ukraine,  the  Crimea  and  the 
f!  tique  worlds  of  Central  Asia ;  and 
!  assessment  of  what  Russia  has 
i  d  hasn't,  and  what  she  intends  to 
<  with  what  she  has  or  expects  to 
1  fe."  — Clifton  Fadiman, 

Book-of-the-Month  Club  News 


A  BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB  SELECTION  •  550  pages;  5  maps  •  At  all  bookstores  •  $5.95   JTflAl)^,  J   p/U>trtfiA4-- 


STEINBECK  and  FAULKNER 

and  Certain  Men  of  Fiance 


THE  WIDE  WORLD 
OF  JOHN  STEINBECK 

By  Peter  Lisca 

This  is  the  first  full-length  critical  study  of  "one 
of  America's  major  living  novelists."  From  Cup 
of  Gold  (1929)  to  The  Short  Reign  of  Pipfun  IV 
(1957),  the  author  carefully  analyzes  each 
novel,  showing  the  biographical  connection  bc- 
tween  them,  and  illustrating  the  growth  of 
Steinbeck's  ideas  and  the  changes  in  his  style. 
Mr.  Lisca's  book  contains  much  original  Stein- 
beck material,  including  some  unpublished 
correspondence.  Written  simply,  this  book  will 
appeal  to  every  thoughtful  Steinbeck  reader. 

$5.00 


|  WILLIAM  FAULKNER: 

New  Orleans  Sketches 

Introduction  by  Carvel  Collins 

Carvel  Collins,  who  has  been  called  "Faulk- 
ner's best  informed  critic,"  finds  new  signifi- 
cance in  Faulkner's  first  professional  fiction,  16 
signed  pieces,  written  in  1925.  These  first 
stories  and  sketches  illustrate  the  origin  of  the 
themes,  the  materials  and  the  stylistic  elements 
that  have  become  peculiarly  Faulkner's.  "For 
the  reader  of  Faulkner,  the  book  is  indispensa- 
ble. Its  brilliant  introduction  ...  is  full  both 
of  helpful  information  .  .  .  and  of  fine  insights." 
—  Paul  engle,  The  Chicago  Tribune  $4.50 


AN  AGE  OF  FICTION: 

The  French  Novel  from  Gide  to  Camus 

By  Germaine  Bree  and  Margaret  Guiton 

Setting  out  to  create  a  new  image  of  man  for 
their  age,  twentieth  century  French  novelists 
produced  exciting  innovations  in  form,  in  con- 
tent, in  attitudes.  This  illuminating  study,  now 
in  its  second  edition,  of  twenty  of  these  nove- 
lists, focuses  persistently  on  the  themes  of  the 
novels  and  their  achievements  in  literary  val- 
ues. ".  .  .  alert,  lively  .  .  .  stimulating  .  .  ." 
—  w.  m.  frohock,  New  York  Times  Book  Re- 
view. ".  .  .  will  hold  an  honored  place  .  .  .  for  a 
long  time  to  come."  — leon  edel  $5.00 


SCANDAL  AND  PARADE: 

The  Theater  of  Jean  Cocteau 
By  Neal  Oxenhandler 

In  this  first  book-length  English  analysis  of 
Cocteau,  Neal  Oxenhandler  appropriately  uses 
the  theater  as  the  focus  for  his  study.  ".  .  .  the 
author  deserves  credit  for  his  objectivity,  a  rare 
virtue  in  this  case.  .  .  .  The  best  study  we  have 
seen  of  Cocteau  the  dramatist."  -  justin 
o'brien,  New  York  Times  Book  Review.  "...  a 
far  clearer  portrait  of  the  artist  than  any  me- 
dium except  the  screen  has  given."  —  riciiard 
L.  COE,  American  Scholar.  (Oxenhandler)  .  .  .  "is 
a  genuine  critic  and  his  book  .  .  .  has  substan- 
tial     literary      and      intellectual      merit  .  .  ." 

HAROLD    CLURMAN,    The   Nation  $5.00 


At  all  bookstores 

RUTGERS   UNIVERSITY   PRESS  New  Brunswick,   New  Jersey 

Represented  in  Canada  by  The  Ryerson  Press,  Toronto,  Ontario 


THE    NEW    BOOKS 

way  they  fared  under  the  Tsars.  HJ 
conclusion  is  that  most  of  them  fe 
that   they   are  better  off.    Many 
ihc  things  that  they  lack— most  pat 
ticularly,     civil     liberties— most 
them  never  had,  and  the  gains  th« 
have  made  in  literacy,  in  increaso 
opportunities  for  people  of  abilii 
and   so  on   are   undeniably   remar 
able.    From  A   Very  Far  Countryl 
is   possible  to  see  that  even  on  tl 
estates  of  landowners  as  cnlighteni 
as  Sergei  and  Ellen  life  for  the  set) 
was  a   mixture  of  ignorance,   sups, 
sliiion,  and  brutality,  spited  with  I 
little   occasional    low    cunning.    Yjl 
now   that   they  are  so   irretrievalB 
gone   we   can   grant    that   sometim|| 
those   great    households    with    the 
ruinous    extravagance    had    a    gr; 
clem,    a    magnificent    disregard 
consequences,  that  testily  to  a  dime* 
sion    in    human    nature    that   eluc 
statistics. 

INDIA:     THREE     VIE 

1 N  The  Heart  of  India  (Kno| 
.$5)  Alexander  Campbell  has  p 
duced  what  must  be  one  of  the  m< 
entertaining  books  about  India  e\ 
written.  Campbell,  a  Scotsman 
birth  and  education,  has  lived 
South  Africa  as  well  as  India,  a 
is  now  head  of  the  Tokyo  burea,u 
Time  and  Life.  He  is  a  repori 
through  and  through.  He  lias  a 
eye  for  the  colorful  or  comic  or  on 
rageous  detail;  he  sets  it  all  do\i 
with  verve;  and,  though  he  has 
broad  acquaintance  with  Indian  li 
not  only  in  the  cities  but  also 
the  villages,  his  point  of  view 
mains  distinctly  that  of  the  V 
involved  onlooker. 

So  much  recent  writing  on  Inc 
is  the  work  of  either  sentimentali) 
or  inside-dopesters  that  it  is  a  c( 
siderable  relief  to  come  across  a  bo 
on  the  subject  by  a  man  with  Can 
bell's  clear  hard  focus  and  cool  <i 
lachment.  He  does  not  pretend  tl 
he  cares  very  much  for  Indians,  a 
he  seems  to  be  willing  to  leave  t 
impression  that  he  regards  Inc 
as  a  mess. 

Yet  as  brilliant  detail  follows  bi 
[iant  detail,  one  begins  to  wonder 
the  author  has  not  taken  up  t 
detached  a  position  to  do  justice 
the  country  he  is  describing.  T 
very  style  of  the  book,  vivid  and  f 
quently  amusing  as   it   is,  somehc 


- 

■ 


I    THE    NEW    BOOKS 

■lies  depth  to  the  life  described. 
Ben  Campbell  writes,  for  instance, 

■  ut  sndlius  (holy  men),  the  very 
■?uage  assumes  that  they  are  all 
B-s.  Campbell  is  in  some  ways  a 
Her  writer  than  Gunther,  but  Gun- 
lr  gives  the  impression  of  making 
ui  'ffort  to  participate  imaginatively 
■jdie  life  he  describes  before  he 
ij^es  it,  and  Campbell  does  not. 

I \he  Heart  of  India  is  a  misnamed 
Ik;  it  should  have  been  called 
It  Look  of  India  or  The  Face  of 
Mia  or  something  of  the  sort,  be- 
lle it  is  a  very  diverting  account 
llhe  kind  of  appearance  India  p re- 
ft s  to  a  sharp  Scots  eye,  but  that 

■  il  it  is. 


A N  K  MORAES  is  a  leading 
ian  journalist,  for  a  number  of 
1  editor  of  the  Times  of  India 
well  known  in  this  country  for 
recent  life  of  Nehru.  His  new 
|  Yonder  One  World  (Mac- 
an,  $3.75),  is  a  rather  scrappy 
action  of  observations  on  his 
nsive  travels  throughout  Asia 
i  the  West.  Some  of  the  book 
is  to  have  been  put  together  in 
offhand  way,  possibly  by  clicta- 
,  and  none  of  it  has  been  shaped 
any  particular  audience.  There 
remarks  about  differences  be- 
in  Asia  and  the  West  of  an 
emely  elementary  sort  (e.g.,  Mo- 
repeatedly  informs  the  reader 
the  West  is  more  highly  in- 
rialized);  yet  the  observations  on 
tics  in  Southeast  Asia  require 
iderable  knowledge  if  the  reader 
I  follow  them. 

lit  the  book  is  at  least  worth 
)ing  into  because  Moraes  is  a 
intelligent  and  very  well  in- 
led  Asian,  and  often  there  is 
ething  interesting  in  his  attitude 
n  there  is  nothing  very  new  in 
nformation.  What  he  says  about 
Philippines,  for  instance,  is  not 
icularly  revealing,  but  his  con- 
ension  toward  the  Philippines 
le  regards  the  country  as  neither 
ly  Asian  nor  really  Western,  and 
)t  impressed. 

he  chapters  on  India  and  Pak- 
1  are  fine,  and  offer  a  useful 
ective  to  more  brilliant  report- 
like Campbell's.  Moraes  is  a 
onsible  citizen  who  does  not 
erestimate  the  seriousness  of  the 
)lem  his  country  faces,  but  he 
vs  that  behind  the  tangle  of  ap- 


C.  P.  Snow 

THE  CONSCIENCE 
OF  THE  RICH 

Power  and  wealth  as  part  of  the  tradi- 
tion of  one  of  the  great  Jewish  families 
of  England. 

"Wise,  beautifully  controlled  and 
deeply  moving  .  .  .  the  best  novel  C.  P. 
Snow  has  so  far  written." 

$3.95  —  ROBERT  GORHAM  DAVIS, 

New  York  Times  Book  Revieiv 


•m 


'iMP 


!\'{.. 


George  Garrett 

KING  OF  THE 
MOUNTAIN 

The  rare  ability  to  comprehend  life  at 
a  glance  and  express  it  in  a  word  per- 
vades these  memorable  stories.  Each 
one,  whether  articulating  an  adolescent 
murmur,  or  pinpointing  an  adult  need, 
reflects  the  sure  hand  of  a  born  writer. 

$3.50 


A  Play  by 

Ketti  Frings 

LOOK 

HOMEWARD, 

ANGEL 

A  skilled,  sensitive  craftsman  has 
translated  Thomas  Wolfe's  classic  into 
a  dramatic  masterpiece,  wolcott  GIBBS 
hails  it  as  "a  miracle"  .  .  .  BROOKS 
ATKINSON  calls  it  "marvelous"  .  .  . 
richard  watts  cites  it  as  "one  of  the 
finest  plays  in  American  dramatic 
literature."  $295 


At  your  booksellers 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


THE  HEART 
OF  INDIA 

£y  ALEXANDER  CAMPBELL 

An  able  reporter,  exploding  the 
myth  and  the  mysticism,  tells 
what  he  found  in  India  and  al- 
lows Mr.  Nehru's  Indians  to 
speak  for  themselves.  He  reveals 
an  utterly  new  India,  surprising 
and  often  shocking.  There  has 
never  been  a  book  on  India 
quite  like  this,  not  even  Kather- 
ine  Mayo's  Mother  India.  With 
31  photographs. 

340  pages.  $5.00 


FROM  APE 
TO  ANGEL 

by  H.  R.  HAYS 

Strange  rites,  primitive  customs, 
unusual  folkways,  sexual  life,  to- 
tems and  taboos— Mr.  Hays  tells 
you  about  them  all  in  this  fasci- 
nating story  of  the  great  anthro- 
pologists and  their  astounding 
discoveries  about  primitive  peo- 
ples in  every  part  of  the  world. 
With  32  pages  of  photographs 
and  40  line  drawings. 

480  pages.  $7.50 

THE  FOOD 
OF  FRANCE 

by  WAVERLEY  ROOT 

As  Samuel  Chamberlain  says  in 
his  Introduction,  "this  is  a  work 
for  posterity."  A  noted  gourmet 
has  written  the  first  full  treatise 
in  English  on  what  food  is  eaten 
in  France,  from  haute  cuisine  to 
peasant  fare— with  its  lore,  his- 
tory, and  associations.  A  beau- 
tiful book,  with  39  superb  pho- 
tographs, 18  drawings,  and  10 
maps,  designed  by  Warren 
Chappell.     535  pages.     $10.00 

At  most  bookstores 
ALFRED  A.  KNOPF,  Publisher 


THE    NEW    BOOKS 


pearance  that  Campbell  describes 
there  are  plans  and  policies.  His 
criticisms  <>l  Nehru  are  extremely 
interesting— he  thinks  that  Nehru 
has  gone  too  Ear  in  expressing  sym- 
patln  for  Communism,  but  he  points 
out  that  Nehru's  only  consequential 
opposition  in  India  is  on  the  left, 
Socialist  or  Communist,  and  that 
like  any  other  politician,  he  makes 
remarks  on  international  affairs 
that  are  designed  to  spike  the 
guns  of  his  domestic  opponents. 
Monies  does  not  underestimate  the 
importance  of  Nehru  to  India,  but 
he  is  worried  that  there  is  no  well 
organized  democratic  party  to  oppose 
Nehru's  Congress  party.  He  also 
offers  an  intelligent  il  not  wholly 
new  reminder  to  the  West  that  India 
will  have  to  work  out  her  own  eco- 
nomic system,  which  cannot  be  pure 
free  enterprise. 

Seasons  of  Jupiter  (Harper,  $3.50), 
a  new  novel  by  the  Indian  novelist 
Anand  I. all,  presents  still  a  third 
view  of  Indian  life,  utterly  different 
from  either  Campbell's  or  Moraes'. 
It  is  the  story,  told  in  the  first  per- 
son, of  one  Rai  Gyan  Chand,  the 
descendant  of  a  well-to-do  landown- 
ing family  in  the  Punjab.  Gyan 
Chand  takes  little  interest  in  any 
aspect  of  public  affairs  or  business; 
he  devotes  himself  to  seeking  per- 
sonal fulfillment  in  a  series  of  re- 
lationships—with his  two  (successive) 
wives,  with  a  mistress,  with  a  shep- 
herd boy,  even  with  a  thrush.  For 
seven  years  he  lives  like  a  sadhu,  and 
masters  many  of  the  Sanskrit  scrip- 
tures and  traditional  techniques  of 
meditation.  Il  is  a  life  completely 
devoted  to  the  non-statistical  dimen- 
sions of  human  experience. 

Gyan  Chand  never  achieves  the 
ultimate  experience  he  seeks,  either 
in  his  sensual  or  his  spiritual  pur- 
suits, but  few  books  manage  to  give 
as  convincing  accounts  of  such  pur- 
suits as  Seasons  of  Jupiter.  It  is  a 
remarkable  achievement,  the  kind  of 
book  that  might  have  been  written 
by  a  calm,  contemplative  D.  H. 
Lawrence,  except  that  a  calm,  con- 
templative D.  H.  Lawrence  would 
be  a  contradiction  in  terms.  Without 
being  pornographic  or  obscene,  it  is 
deeply  sensuous,  deeply  sexual;  at 
the  same  time  anyone  who  reads  it 
would  hesitate  to  dismiss  the  life  of 
all  Indian  holy  men  as  pure  fakery. 


LOW     BOILINC     P  O  1  N  ■ 

Declaration  (Dutton,  $3.75)  is  at 
introduction  to  a  world  that  is  stil 
as  strange  to  most  American  reads! 
as  India  or  Russia,  the  world  ol  th 
young  English  writers  and  intelfa 
tuals  who  are  coming  to  be  knowi 
as  tin-  "angr)  young  men."  Actti 
all\  this  label  seems  to  make  mos 
ol  the  angry  young  men  even  at 
grier,  and  like  the  French  existei 
tialists  ol  a  few  years  ago,  they  spenj 
a  good  deal  ol  their  appalling 
abundant  energy  in  quarreling  ovef 
labels,  in  announcing  that  they  at 
or  are  not  angry,  or  that  il  so-and-s 
is  an  angry  young  man  they  certain 
are  not  and  will  be  very  angry  1 
anyone  says  the)  are,  and  so  on.    I 

Declaration  is  a  collection  of  pelj 
sonal  statements  by  eight  ol  tli 
younger  English  writers;  the  cot 
tributors  best  known  in  this  count] 
are  John  Osborne  (Look  Bark  I 
Anger),  Colin  Wilson  (The  Ou 
siilcr).  Kenneth  Tynan,  the  dram* 
ctitic,  and  John  Wain,  the  noveli 
(not  to  be  con  I  used  with  Joh 
Braine,  also  a  novelist).  It  is  a  vei 
interesting  book  if  you  can  stair 
to  read  it.  The  contributions  ran, 
from  a  rather  academic  essay  by 
young  critic  named  Stuart  Holroy 
to  Osborne's  brilliant,  utterly  min 
less  piece  of  rhetoric,  mostly  a  bo 
the  Queen,  pigs,  and  the  di  Heretic  i 
between  his  father's  and  his  mother 
families,  a  wild  and  wonderful  High 

In  a  very  general  way  you  cou 
say  that  what  upsets  these  writers 
that  the  shift  in  the  statistical  has 
of  English  life  that  took  place  aft 
the  second  world  war  was  not  a 
companied  by  a  shift  in  the  spiritu 
basis.  "Fair  shares  for  all"  shou 
have  meant  "new  souls  for  all,"  b 
it  didn't.  The  leveling  out  of  i 
come,  the  new  scholarship  prograr 
for  education,  and  the  increase 
social  services  have  not  produced 
spiritual  rebirth,  nor  have  they, 
these  writers  are  to  be  believe 
altered  the  form  of  English  socie 
The  obsession  of  younger  Engli 
writers  with  social  class  is  not  Mai 
ist;  rather  it  seems  to  be  fury  wi 
a  society  that  is  stupidly  preservi 
the  forms  of  class-society  when 
much  of  the  content  (difference 
income,  education,  and  so  on)  li 
been  wiped  out.  An  essay  by  anoth 
rebellious    young    Englishman    pi 


THE    NEW    BOOKS 

ed  in  Harper's  in  January,  "The 
n  Corset  on  Britain's  Spirit"  by 
rtin  Green,  which  describes  Eng- 
society  as  still  smothered  in 
od  manners,  mummified  ideas, 
I  dried-up  sentimentality,"  is  a 
id  introduction  to  the  attitude 
.t  dominates  Declaration. 
Vhat  the  contributors  want  is  a 
/  freedom  of  feeling.  Most  of 
m  call  it  religion,  a  few  call  it 
ialism,  though  when  one  writer 
nes  Socialism  as  "a  desire  for 
dness  and  compassion,"  the  dif- 
:nce  between  Socialism  and  re- 
on  does  not  seem  to  be  very  great, 
a  of  their  favorite  books,  men- 
led  in  several  essays,  is  William 
•res's  Varieties  of  Religious  Ex- 
ience.  G.  B.  Shaw  and  Bertolt 
cht  are  other  favorite  writers; 
ig  (with  whom  we  started)  is  pre- 
ed  to  Freud. 

I E  most  intelligent  and  mature 
y  in  Declaration  is  by  John  Wain, 
)se  new   novel,   The   Contenders 

Martin's  Press,  $3.95),  has  re- 
try been  published.  This  is  a 
•y  about  three  men  who  grow  up 
nn  English  pottery  town,  a  "place 

stop   at   on    the   way    to    Man- 
ster— the  one  where  you  look  out 
;he  train  window  when  it's  slow- 
down, and  think,  'Well,  at  least 
m't  live  here.'  " 

j)ne  of  the  men,  who  tells  the 
y,  stays  on  in  the  grimy  place 
becomes  a  pudgy,  uncompetitive, 
|:ll-town  newspaperman,  but  the 
er  two  have  more  spectacular 
pers.  One  becomes  a  very  success- 
businessman,  the  other  an  equally 
cessful  artist,  and  they  continue 
nanhood  the  intense  competition 
h  each  other  that  had  begun 
\tn  they  were  boys, 
"he  book  is  a  study  in  the  cor- 
ve  effect  on  human  character  of 
)ition,  rivalry,  and  the  passion 
be  accepted.  It  is  not  "angry" 
the  sense  that  Osborne's  play 
\>k  Back  in  Anger  is;  its  criticism 
lot  directed  against  a  petrified 
bs  structure  but  against  the  career- 
i  who  know  how  to  take  advantage 

the     opportunities     of     postwar 
iety. 
Vain  is  an  excellent  writer,   but 

language  is  more  alive  than  his 

jracters.   There  is  an  unfortunate 

[itrariness    about     the    book— the 

racters  seem  to  be  pushed  around 


Read  the  "bests" 

in  full,  from  these  great  magazines 

-  and  50  others! 

-  in  the  reprint  magazine  of  the  journals  and  quarterlies 

Best  Stories  —  All  three  of  the  top  O.  Henry  Award 
stories  for  1957  were  first  published  in  literary  quarter- 
lies. 

Best  Articles  and  Poems  —  In  any  year,  essays  and 
articles  of  profound  impact  —  in  foreign  affairs,  liter- 
ature and  politics  —  in  science,  biography  and  econ- 
omics —  in  travel,  philosophy  and  humor  —  regularly 
appear  in  the  literary  and  scholarly  journals.  These 
magazines  are  the  major  publishers  of  American  poetry. 

Best  Editorial  Board  —  The  distinguished  editors  of 
leading  reviews,  quarterlies  and  journals  make  the  nom- 
inations on  which  Best  Articles  &  Stories  selections  are 
based. 

Best  Format  for  thoughtful  readers  —  Best  Articles  & 
Stories  material  is  given  in  the  complete  text,  without 
abridgment,   in  a  full-size  magazine.  By  subscription 

only,  ten  issues    annually,  $5 

Subscription  Coupon 


Best  Articles  &  Stories  Magazine,  1757  Devon  Lane, 
Bloomington,  Indiana:  I  enclose  $5  (Canada  $6  Foreign 
$7)    for  1  year  subscription. 


Name  

Address 
City  


Zone  - State 


THIS 
GLORIOUS 
CAUSE 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  TWO 

COMPANY  OFFICERS   IN 

WASHINGTON'S  ARMY 

By  Herbert  T.  Wade  and 
Robert  A.  Lively 

TThey  CAME  from  Ipswich,  a 
-*-  shoemaker  and  a  carpenter, 
to  answer  the  call  to  arms  at 
Lexington.  They  went  on  — 
from  Bunker  Hill  to  Saratoga 
— experiencing  all  the  fears  and 
hopes,  small  troubles  and  per- 
sonal triumphs  of  the  American 
Revolution's  ordinary  soldiers. 
Their  story  is  retold  now  in  an 
intimate  and  stirring  narrative 
based  on  their  diaries  and 
letters.  S5.00 

Order  from  your  booksfore,  or 


PRINCETON  Un^;ssi,y 

Princeton,  New  Jersey 


THE 

KINGDOM 

OF  JORDAN 

By  Raphael  Patai 


SMALL,  poor  in  resources  and 
torn  by  political  strife, 
Jordan  is  nonetheless  a  strate- 
gically important  pro-Western 
outpost  in  the  troubled  Near 
East.  In  this,  the  first  full-length 
study  of  Jordan  in  English,  an 
outstanding  authority  on  Mid- 
dle Eastern  society  describes  in 
detail  recent  political  develop- 
ments and  their  historical  back- 
ground, and  provides  full  and 
factual  information  on  Jordan's 
government,  economy,  culture 
and  people.  Illustrated.       $5.00 

Order  from  your  bookstore,  or 


PRINCETON  u  ^;;i,y 

Princeton,  New  Jersey 


THE    NEW    HOOKS 

to  make  a  point  that  left  to  their 
own  efforts  they  would  make  a  good 
deal  less  neatly.  The  most  interest- 
ing character  is  tin  stick-in-the-mud 
narrator,  hut  we  never  learn  verj 
much  about  him. 

WHETHER  Thomas  Hinde  re- 
gards hinisell  as  one  ol  the  "angry 
young  men"  I  tlo  not  know,  but  his 
new  novel.  Happy  as  Larry  (Cri- 
terion, S^.95).  bears  a  certain  Family 
resemblance  to  the  books  the)  have 
produced. 

Happy  as  /.mix  deals  with  a  group 
ol  youngish,  semi-artistic,  semi-Bo- 
hemian people  in  London,  more  or 
less  [lie  kind  ol  people  who  in  New 
York  have  been  written  about  b\ 
John  KcroiKK  under  the  title  The 
Subterraneans.  Hinde's  Londoners 
are  more  intelligent,  better  educated, 
probably  sicker,  much  more  (owed, 
and  gel  considerably  less  fun  out 
ol  their  neuroses  than  Kerouac's  New 
Yorkers.  Hinde's  writing  is  much 
more  conventional  than  Kerouac's. 
and  \ei\   good. 

Most  of  Hinde's  characters  are 
unemployed  and  nearly  unemploy- 
able; they  move  from  one  cheap 
rooming  house  to  another;  they  arc- 
not  very  clean;  but  they  somehow 
find  enough  money  to  spend  a  good 
deal  of  their  time  in  various  un- 
attractive bars.  Hinde  portrays  this 
kind  of  life  brilliantly,  though  there 
is  a  slight  trace  of  sentimentality  in 
his  attitude  toward  it. 

The  plot  of  Happy  as  Larry  con- 
cerns Larry's  muddled  efforts  to  find 
a  compromising  photograph  that  has 
been  lost  by  a  friend  ol  his.  a  young 
man  with  political  ambitions  who 
could  be  seriously  embarrassed  if  the 
photograph  came  to  light.  The 
search  becomes  more  than  a  gesture 
of  helpfulness;  the  need  to  find  the 
obscene  picture  becomes  all-impor- 
tant to  Larry,  and  its  discovery  the 
only  basis  on  which  he  can  build 
a  healthier,  saner  life.  The  plot  is 
partly  just  a  device  for  stringing  to- 
gether a  series  of  wild  and  some- 
times funny  episodes,  but  it  carries 
some  implications  that  are  central 
to  the  book's  meaning. 

FEW  writers  have  created  a  world 
as  strange  and  varied  and  wonderful 
as  Charles  Dickens  did,  and  so  it 
is  worth  mentioning  that  the  Oxford 
Press  has  recently  completed  its  ten- 


James  Bryant 
Conant's 

GERmnnv 

and 

FREEDOm 

A  PERSONAL  APPRAISAL 


H 


ow  does  Germany  feel  about  her 
Nazi  past,  about  unification,  re- 
armament, her  role  in  Europe? 
Basing  his  appraisal  on  first-hand 
observations  as  Ambassador  to  the 
Federal  Republic,  Dr.  Conant  not 
only  considers  current  conditions 
and  attitudes,  but  compares  and 
contrasts  the  political,  economic 
and  military  situations  of  two  vital 
periods  in  German  history.  His 
conclusions,  highlighted  by  an  ex- 
amination of  Germany's  relations 
with  her  neighbors,  are  both  opti- 
mistic and  illuminating. 

S3.00  at  your  bookstore 

iBj  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

Cambridge  38,  Massachusetts 


The  lives  and  legends  of  the  early  Church  Fathers 


The  Fathers 
Without 
Theology  by 


MARJORIE 
STRACHEY 


"The  histonj 

of  the  Church 

in  Miss  Strachey's 

period  seems  to  me 

more  picturesque 

and  exotic  than 

Arabian  Nights." 

LONDON  TIMES 

$4.00 

'  At  your  bookstore  or  H      I 

GEORGE    BRAZI  LLER.  INC.j 

215     FOURTH    AVENUE,    NEW  YORK     3,   N.V.       I 

Please  send  me,  postpaid,  THE  fathers  OF 

THEOLOGY  @  S4.00. 


Name. 
Street- 


City 


-Zone. 


.State. 


|        D  Check    □  Money  Order    (No  C.O.D.'s)      J; 


THE    NEW    BOOKS 


l  :r    project    known    as    The    New 
ford  Illustrated  Dickens  (21  vol- 
utes, $3.50  each).   The  pictures  are 
illustrators  of  Dickens'  own  time, 
I'  type  is  eminently  clear,  and  the 
t  )er   good.     Each    volume   has    an 
reduction    by    a    modern    writer, 
f lying  from  Dame  Sybil  Thorndike 
i  Lionel  Trilling.    On  grounds  of 
r  liability,  inclusiveness,  and  price, 
lis  is  the  best  edition  of  Dickens 
I  ilable.    I  have  never  cared  very 
I)  clr  for  Dickens'  illustrations,  be- 


cause the  text  always  seems  more 
vivid  than  the  drawings,  but  these 
have  at  least  an  historical  interest, 
and  for  many  readers  much  more. 
Those  who  are  really  interested  in 
Dickens  will  greatly  enjoy  Dickens 
at  Work,  by  John  Butt  and  Kathleen 
Tillotson  (Essential,  $6.25).  This  is 
primarily  a  scholarly  study  of  the 
effect  of  periodical  publication  on 
the  novels,  but  it  offers  a  great 
variety  of  fascinating  information 
about  how  Dickens  wrote  the  books. 


BOOKS 


in  brief 


KATHERINE  GAUSS  JACKSON 


FIRST     NOVELS 

;|>ecause  this  spring  is  unusual  in 

I  number  of  first  novels  on  pub- 
I'.ers'  lists— many  by  very  young 
iiple— the  fiction  column  here  is 
llusively  devoted  to  five  of  them. 

e  Sergeant,  by  Dennis   Murphy. 

Tom    Swanson    was    one    of    the 

ingest,    easiest,    handsomest,    and 

st  discerning  of  all  the  Americans 

the  postwar   Army   base  outside 

Brdeaux.     He    loved    the    French 

Imtry,  the  people,  even  his  routine 

Irk  at  the  base.  He  loved  a  French 

I .   He  was  happy  with  the  world 

II  with  himself.  Then  one  morn- 
I  Sergeant  Callan  appeared  in  the 
Iderly  room.  He  had  come  to  stay, 
le  psychological  struggle  that  foi- 
l's is  as  vivid  and  moving  and 
Hdible  as  anything  I've  read  in  a 
Ig  time.  Mr.  Murphy's  ability  to 
I:  mood  into  almost  palpable  terms 
I)  describe  feeling  and  value  in 
t  ns  of  landscape  and  weather  and 
■  -Us — is  most  unusual.  A  first  novel 
I  tten  with  power,  beauty,  and 
l.raint.  Viking,  $3.50 

|e  Narrowest  Circle,  by  Katharine 
I  ittuck. 

Irhe  narrowest  circle  is  made  up  of 
I  usband  and  wife  and  a  somewhat 
ifinger  friend— a  girl— whom  they 
jle  into  their  home  in  return  for 
I  help  in  taking  care  of  their  small 
;P  ighter.    The    inevitable    happens 


and  the  girl,  Edith,  and  the  husband, 
George,  fall  in  love.  The  plot  is 
almost  routine  but  Miss  Shattuck's 
handling  of  it  is  anything  but  ordi- 
nary. The  husband  is  a  professor  in 
a  Middle  Western  college  and  the 
summer  house  where  most  of  the 
action  takes  place  is  in  rural  Kan- 
sas, but  the  author's  treatment  of  the 
story  is  excessively  urbane.  Her  situ- 
ations crackle  with  sophisticated  wit, 
cumulative  intensity,  and  sometimes 
with  primitive  violence,  and  one  be- 
comes very  involved  with  this  family 
circle.  The  style  at  first  seems  brittle 
and  artificial,  but  the  people— except 
for  some  minor  characters  which 
seem  to  me  overdone  to  the  point 
of  caricature— are  real  and  the  narra- 
tive is  so  full  of  dynamics  that  one 
gets  swept  into  it  and  in  the  end 
admires  it,  style  and  all,  very  much. 
It  is  an  intellectual  exercise  on  an 
emotional  volcano. 

McDowell,  Obolensky,  $3.75 

The  Month  of  September,  by  Fre- 
derique  Hebard. 

With  the  freshness,  delight,  pas- 
sion, and  despair  of  young  marriage, 
this  novel  tells  of  a  summer  in  the 
lives  of  Francois  and  his  wife— the 
narrator— and  their  child.  They  live 
in  an  old  mill  at  Chauvry,  outside 
Paris,  where  the  wife  paints,  and  the 
husband,  a  novelist  and  publisher, 
returns  each  night  after  his  day  in 
the  office.  Their  life  has  been  idyllic 
for  seven  years,  until  the  day  Fran- 


SIGNIFICANT 
BOOKS  ON 


America 


REFLECTIONS 

ON 

AMERICA 

"Maritain's  personal 
grace  and  the  felicity  of 
his  English  prose  are 
apparent  all  through  his 
new  little  volume  .  .  . 
which  is  in  effect  a 
clear-eyed,  richly 
thoughtful  love  letter  to 
the  land  in  which  he  has 
lived  so  long." 

— Newsweek  $3.50 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Tested  value 


BOOKS    IN    BRIEF 


and  En 


ST 


tertain 

from 

WARTIH'S 


ment.. 

PRESS 


The  top  bestseller  — 

ANATOMY  OF 
A  MURDER 

by  Robert  Trover  •  The  brilliant, 
suspenscful  novel  by  a  Justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  Michigan.  "Im- 
mensely readable  and  continuously 
entertaining."  —  oiwille  prescott, 
New  York  Times.  "Obsessively  inter- 
esting .  .  ."—CLIFTON  FADIMAN.  $4.50 

THE  BOURBONS  OF 
NAPLES 

by  Harold  Acton  •  Bizarre,  mercurial, 
grotesque,  baroque  —  the  fabulous 
century  of  Bourbon  rule  in  Naples 
viewed  as  the  elaborate  comedy  of 
manners  it  was.  Here  is  the  exotic 
family,  full  of  operatic  intrigue  and 
gusto,  known  to  Nelson  and  Lady 
Hamilton,  Goethe,  Metternich  and 
Lady  Blessington.  $8.50 

GEORGIAN 
AFTERNOON 

by  Sir  Lawrence  Jones  •  The  author 
of  An  Edwardian  Youth  continues 
his  witty  reminiscences  in  a  scintil- 
lating series  of  anecdotes,  his  gro- 
tesque initiation  as  a  banker,  deer- 
stalking in  Scotland,  life  as  a  banned 
playwright.  $4.75 

THE  LONELY 
LONDONERS 

by  Samuel  Selvon  •  A  haunting  novel 
of  West  Indian  immigrants  in  London 
written  in  poetic— calypsolike— prose. 
"A  nearly  perfect  work  of  its  kind." 
-The  New  Yorker         $2.95 

THE  TRUE  BLUE 

The  Life  and  Adventures  of 
Co/.  Fred  Burnaby 
by  Michael  Alexander  •  A  sensa- 
tional biography  of  the  author-ad- 
venturer-soldier whom  Henry  James 
called  "thoroughly  English . . .  opaque 
in  intellect  but  indomitable  in 
muscle  .  .  ."  Never  daunted,  Col. 
Burnaby  rode  like  a  Don  Quixote 
through  adventures  in  Spain,  Central 
Asia,  Turkey  to  a  dramatic  death  at 
the  hands  of  the  "fuzzy-wuzzies." 

Illustrated.         $5.00 


cois  st. ii  is  translating  the  work  ol  an 
Italian  actress,  Sandra,  the  Panthei 
ol  Mantua.  Their  whole  world 
changes.  Reading  the  stor)  is  a  thor- 
oughly satisfying  experience.  Down 
to  the  most  minor  characters  these 
are  all  real  and  likable  people, 
caught  in  .i  very  human  trap.  The 
solution  ol  their  problem  matters, 
and  the  intimate  summer  atmos 
phere  ol  literary  Paris  and  its  en- 
virons is  charmingly  portrayed.  The 
author  is  a  young  a<  tress  who  lias 
written  children's  books  and  an  auto- 
biographical story  ol  her  own  inter- 
esting Life.  Shi  is  married  to  the 
playwright,  Louis  Velle.  Her  novel 
is  lull  ol  humor,  and  affection  for 
the  human  race.        Little,  Brown,  $3 

Mary  Ann,  l>\  Alex  Karmel. 

There  are  not  main  novels  in 
which  the  heroine  is  brutally  raped 

in  the  first  sentence.  Vet  this  is  where 
Mi.  Karmel's  story  begins,  and  it  is 
both  the  strength  and  weakness  ol 
his  hook.  The  picture  of  the  slow 
disintegration  and  slower  re-inte- 
gration of  a  personality  (she  tells 
no-one  what  has  happened)  is  told 
with  a  matter-of-fact  terseness  that  is 
\ei\  effective,  and  the  beauty-and- 
the-beast  ending  becomes  possible  if 
not  quite  convincing.  The  weakness 
of  the  story  in  relation  to  its  begin- 
ning is  that  one  doesn't  know  enough 
about  the  character  or  her  life  before 
the  attack;  only  that  she  was  a  some- 
what withdrawn  young  girl  living 
with  her  mother  and  stepfather  in 
an  ordinary  middle  class  home  in 
New  York  City.  Thus  one  simply  has 
to  accept  the  author's  picture  of  what 
happens  as  the  inevitable  one,  and 
it  is  a  credit  to  the  sureness  of  the 
writing  that  one  follows  it  as  trust- 
ingly as  one  does.  In  a  way  the  story 
is  a  small  parable  for  our  times— a 
coming  to  terms  with  the  violence  of 
change,  through  love.  It  is  a  remark- 
able performance  for  a  young  man 
of  twenty-seven.  Viking,  $3 

The  Year  of  the  White  Trees,  by 

Jane  Mayer. 

Technically,  this  is  Jane  Mayer's 
"first  novel,"  though  she  has,  in  col- 
laboration, and  under  the  pseudo- 
nym of  Clare  Jaynes,  written  four 
others.  First  or  fifth,  it  is  a  most 
effective  and  affecting  performance. 
One  would  think  that  there  were 
very  few  changes  to  be  rung  on  the 


stotv  ol  an  affaii  between  a  brilliant, 
talented,  worldly  violinist  and  a' 
beautiful,  starry-eyed  young  school- 
teacher from  a  Chicago  suburb.  But! 
here  is  the  almost  intolerable  joy 
and  excitement  ol  such  an  attach- 
ment, the  anguish  ol  waiting  lor 
telephone  calls  and  assignations  and 
in  the  end  real  dignity  and  gentle- 
ness Icai  ned  from  suffering  and  the 
growth  of  understanding.  Though, 
one  often  wants  forcibly  to  stop  the 
voting  girl  in  her  too  abject  pursuit 
ol  her  sometimes  abstracted  lover, 
there  is  nothing  sloppy  or  mawkisB 
about  this  book.  It  is  a  moving  and 
compassionate  story. 

Random  House,  $3.9 

PURSUIT     OF     HAPPINESSl 

In  recent  weeks  many  books  have! 
been  published  dealing  in  one  wa« 
or  another  with  the  ever-increasinJ 
problem  of  the  mentally  disturbed™ 
in  our  society.  Four  of  them  are] 
noted  here. 


Fortunate    Strangers,    by    Cornelius 
Beukenkamp,   Jr.,  M.D. 

Eight  troubled  people,  lour  yours 
men  and  lour  young  women,  joined 
with  the  author  psychiatrist  (most  ol 
them  reluctantly  at  first)  in  an  at 
tempt  to  get  at  the  problems  of  eacfj 
through  group  discussion.  It  was  th< 
first  time  that  any  of  them,  including 
the  doctor,  had  tried  this  method  o 
therapy  and  some  of  their  excitemen 
carries  through  to  the  reader.  Eacl 
person  here,  though  disguised,  is  rea 
and  so  are  the  problems.  Dr.  Beit 
kenkamp  is  a  psychiatrist  and  not  i 
writer  but  no  one  interested  in  thi 
field  of  therapy  can  fail  to  be  move* 
by  his  true  though  somewhat  fiction: 
ali/ed  report  and  the  way  in  whicL 
eight  lonely  and  desperate  peoph 
became  less  lonely  and  more  secur 
by  sharing  their  miseries  and  thei, 
hostilities.  Rinehart,  S3. 5 


The     Unbelonging,     by     Alice     M 
Robinson. 

By  rights  this  book  should  b 
among  the  group  of  first  novels,  bu 
it  is  so  moving  as  a  case  history  an 
so  undistinguished  as  a  novel  that 
include  it  here  instead.  The  autho 
who  in  her  job  as  Director  of  Nur 
ing  Education  in  the  Vermont  Stat 
Hospital  "has  walked  hundreds  c 
miles     through     the    corridors    an 


!    BOOKS    IN    BRIEF 

lids  of  mental  hospitals,"  has  from 
I  warmth  of  her  attitude  and  ex- 
Bence  invented  a  composite  char- 
Hr,  a  deeply  lost  young  woman  in 
ij  of  these  hospitals,  and  around 
it  has  created  a  story  of  life  and 

■  apies  and  people  in  such  an  in- 
i  ition.  It  is  done  with  so  much 
King  and  care  that  one  reads  with 
H  ect  and  admiration  and  learns  a 
I  it  deal.  A  hopeful  and  intelligent 
,.  k.  Macmillan,  $3.95 

I  of  Their  Fathers,  by  Marjorie 

■  wagen,  M.D. 

B  his  book,  described  as  "a  story  of 
Ilclren,  not  for  children,  told  by 
mew  York  juvenile  court  psychi- 
Iht,"    is    far    and    away    the    best 

■  ten  and  organized  book  of  the 
m:    Dr.   Rittwagen   is   not  only  a 

■  hiatrist  but  a  first-rate  reporter 
■veil  and  her  compact  stories  of 

II  vidual  tragedies,  her  discussions 
a  parole,  training  schools,  parents, 

I  all  the  various  happenings  of 
I  five  years  (1952-57)  spent  work- 
■with  ninety-six  probation  officers, 
Bsimple,  dramatic,  extremely  well 
■jmented,    and    compel    one's    at- 

■  ion  like  a  slap  in  the  face.  An 
■lortant,  highly  readable  book  full 
Information   on   a   sorry   subject. 

Houghton  Mifflin,  S3. 50 


■  •  Highfields  Story,  by  Lloyd  W. 
Korkle,  Albert  Elias,  and  F.  Lovell 


B'ne  of  the  places  that  take  over 
In  the  courts  are  through  is  High- 

■  ls,  once  the  Lindbergh  estate  in 
B)ewell,  New  Jersey.  It  is  a  resi- 
■tial  home— no  fences,  no  bars  of 
I  kind— for  a  carefully  selected  few 

■  nquents,  set  up  at  first  on  a  five- 
I'  experimental  basis.   It  has  been 

I  per  cent  successful.  The  authors 

I  the  founders  of  the  home,  Dr. 

Bby,   Director  of  Correction   and 

Bole,   Department   of   Institutions 

Agencies    in    New    Jersey;    Mr. 

BCorkle,  now  Warden  of  the  State 

»on  in  Trenton;  and  Albert  Elias, 

B>ent     Superintendent     of     High- 

Bls.    Partly    because   of   the    joint 

Biorship,    the  book   is   uneven   in 

Interest  and  tone,  but  as  in  all  the 

|er    books    mentioned    here,    the 

js    themselves    are    heartbreaking 

terrifying,  leaving  one  with  the 

iliar  feeling:  "There  but  for  the 

ce  of  God"   ...    A   humbling 

erience.  Holt,  $3.50 


Carefully  edited,  beautifully  made, 

here  is  the  definitive  edition  of 

THE   LETTERS   OF 

Emily  T)ickinson 

Edited  by 

THOMAS  H.  JOHNSON 

and  THEODORA  WARD 

Thoroughly  annotated,  this  com- 
plete collection  of  all  Dickinson 
letters  known  to  be  in  existence 
magnificently  complements  the 
highly  acclaimed  three  volume 
edition  of  the  poems  of  emily 

DICKINSON. 


A  BELKNAP  PRESS  BOOK 

3  Volumes,  boxed    $25.00 

Through  your  bookseller,  or  from 

HARVARD 

UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

|T|s||f/    79  Garden  Street, 

Cambridge  38,  Massachusetts 


■   ■ 


ii-yy;/:) 


:  '■".-■' 


sifSit 


n 


A  Stimulating 

New  Book 
from  Beacon! 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

&rfho//c  FbuMt,  /9SB 

by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 

The  first  edition  of 
Blanshard's  famous 
class  ic  has  stood 
like  Gibraltar  over 
the  years  against 
every  criticism.  In 
this  new  edition,  he 
provides  a  Calendar 
of  Significant 
Events,  1947-57  ; 
adds  fresh  analyses 
of  new  Supreme 
Court  decisions  ; 
hundreds  of  new 
documentary 
sources.  .  .  .  The  in- 
dispensable refer- 
ence book.  $3.95 


27    at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm -5 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 

Send  me  postpaid: 

D  AMERICAN  FREEDOM  AND 

CATHOLIC  POWER  1958    $3.95 
□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 

Street 

City State 

Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


i^1HENRYREGN£RYC0MPAN¥ 


THE  THOUGHT  AND 
ART  OF  ALBERT  CAMUS 

by  Thomas  Hanna 

The  first  book,  in  English  or  in  French,  to 
give  us  a  thorough  understanding  of  all 
the  works  of  Camus  in  terms  of  the  philo- 
sophical concerns  which  motivate  them. 

$4.50 


THE  WOMAN 
FROM  THE  ISLAND 

by  Jeremy  Ingalls 

Brilliantly  blending  the  traditional  and 
contemporary,  Miss  Ingalls  presents  here- 
with her  first  book  of  poetry  since  the 
publication  of  Tahl  and  The  Metaphysical 
Sword.  $4.50 


A.  E.  HOUSMAN: 

Man  Behind  a  Mask 

by  Maude  M.  Hawkins 

The  definitive  biography  of  the  Shropshire 
Lad  poet,  written  with  the  cooperation  of 
the  Housman  family.  $6.00 

AT  ALL  BOOKSTORES 


Literature 

FOR>LISTENING 


Audio  Book 
Recordings 


SPECIALOFFER! 

$12.95  'LISTENER'S  LIBRARY' 

JUST  $9.95! 

•  Complete  Sonnets  of  William  Shake- 
speare read  by  Ronald  Colman.  Sensitive 
. . .  moving  . . .  magnificent. 

•  The  Trial  of  Socrates  read  by  award- 
winner  Thomas  Mitchell.  Text  foreword  by 
Robert  M.  Hutchins. 

•  Famous  Poems  read  by  Marvin  Miller. 
Seventy-four  best-loved  poems,  including 
the  complete  Rubaiyat  of  Omar  Khayyam. 

YOU  GET  ALL  THREE  ALBUMS  — 
10  AUDIO  BOOK  16  rpm  RECORDS 
—  AT  THIS  SPECIAL  PRICE.  Offer 
limited.  See  your  dealer  NOWor  write! 

AUDIO  BOOK  COMPANY  Siffl* 


Tennessee  v.  John  Thomas  Scopes 

by  RAY  GINGER 

The  first  full  story 
of  the  famous  "Mon- 
key Trial."  The 
Broadway  hit  In- 
herit the  Wind 
touched  on  the  trial 
scenes  .  .  .  Darrow 
and  others  have 
written  partial  ac- 
counts .  .  .  Now  you 
can  read  the  com- 
plete story  of  the 
trial  that  left  the 
civilized  world  gasp- 
ing with  incredulity. 
$3.95 


36   at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm-5 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid: 

□  SIX  DAYS  OR 
FOREVER?  $3.05 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 


Street- 
City 


.State- 


-Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

America*  freecfm  4 


by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 


$3.95 


BOOKS    IN    BRIEF 

LITERARY     TALKS 

Writers  at  Work:  The  Paris  Review 
Interviews,  edited  by  Malcolm  Cow- 
ley. 

Over  the  last  lew  years  a  series  of 
distinguished  interviews  has  been  ap- 
pearing in  a  little  quarterly  called 
the  Paris  Review.  The  editors  have 
talked  with  some  ol  the  most  notable 
writers  of  this  century  and  Mr.  Cow- 
ley in  his  excellent  introduction  calls 
the  book  "the  best  series  of  inter- 
views with  writers  of  our  time  tli.it  I 
have  nad  in  English."  The  authors 
are:  E.  M.  Forster,  Francois  Mauriac, 
Joyce  Gary,  Dorothy  Parker  (a  won- 
derful exchange),  James  Tlnnber, 
Thornton  Wilder,  Frank  O'Connor. 
Robert  Penn  Warren,  William 
Faulkner,  Georges  Siinenon,  Alberto 
Moravia,  Nelson  Algren,  Angus  Wil- 
son, William  Styron,  Truman  Ca- 
pote, and  Francoise  Sagan. 

Viking,  $5 

FORECAST 

Collections  and  Anthologies 

The  publication  in  April  of 
Charles  Rollo's  The  World  of  Evelyn 
Waugh  (Little,  Brown)  and  Arthur 
Mizener's  collection  of  stories  and 
essays  by  F.  Scott  Fitzgerald  called 
Afternoon  of  an  Author  (Scribner) 
leads  off  a  season  interesting  in  its 
variety  of  anthologies.  From  Farrar, 
Straus  8c  Cudahy  in  May  will  come 
a  book  called  From  the  N.R.F.—a 
selection  of  forty-five  of  the  best 
critical  essays  from  the  two  hundred 
and  fifty-two  issues  of  the  Nouvelle 
Revue  Francaise  published  between 
its  founding  in  June  1919  and  June 
1940.  It  is  edited  and  translated  by 
Justin  O'Brien.  In  May,  too,  from 
Viking  comes  All  Aces:  A  Nero 
Wolfe  Omnibus,  by,  of  course,  Rex 
Stout;  and  from  Doubleday  Four 
Existentialist  Theologians:  A  Reader 
from  the  Work  of  Jacques  Man  la  in. 
Nicholas  Berdyaev,  Martin  Buber, 
and  Paul  Tillidi.  selected  and  intro- 
duced by  Will  Herberg.  In  June 
Random  House  will  publish  Selected 
Essays  by  this  year's  winner  of  the 
Book  Award  tor  poetry,  Robert  Penn 
Warren,  while  later  on  in  the  fall 
Macmillan  acknowledges  that  even 
barristers  have  time  on  their  hands 
with  Lawyer's  Leisure,  an  anthology 
of  readings  for  lawyers  edited  by 
William  Davenport. 


ndian  Springs  School 


Substantial  endowment  in  relation  to  9ize  makes  pot1 
the   provision   of  special  conditions  for   the  educatu 
young  men  who  are  outstanding  in  their  potential! 
achieve   distinction    of   performance     Emphasis  is 
developing  a  habitual  vision  of  greatness,  upon  vj 
and  upon  stimulating  and  keeping  alive  intellectual 
oaity.  Grades  nine  through  twelve.  Application  nm  . 
made  at  least  six  months  in  advance.  Admission  is  by  , 
and  personal  Interview.  Enrollment  limm-d    to   120  . 
dents    Send  for  brochure.  "Learning  is  by  Participali  i 
Creation  Through  Intelligence." 
Louis  E.  Armstrong,  Dlr.,  Boi  B,   Helena,   Mai. 


MARY    A.    BURNHAM   SCHOOt 

FOI      girls.      Thorough      college      preparation.      Fully.] 
credited        Music      and       Arl       i  inpliiis  i/r,|        College      I 
advantages.    Hiding.    Skiing,    Swimming.    All   sports,    . 
k     method    for    posture      National     enrollment. 

year.  Gymnasium.  Summer  Scl I    Newport.  It  I.  Catd 

Mrs.    George    W.    Emerson.    Box    43,    Northamiitnn. 


MANLIUS 

Founded  1869    For  Accredited    Gradeg  7-12 

pleti  collegt  preparation.  ROTC.  Hlghesl  U.S  Army 
for  over  50  \r-  126  sere  campus  Remedial  readlnfl 
Band,  Summer  Session  Tutorial  assistance  Catifl 
Robert    D.    Weekes.    The    Manlius  School.    Manlius, 


ECOLE    CHAMPLAIN-FRENCH   CAMP 

Girls  6-16.   On  Lake  Champlain    Conversational  F 

with    European   conuselors.    Tuition    Includes    daily  rl 

pater  sports,  tennis,  dramatics,  music,  art.  dai 

35th  year.  Sunday  Services.  Three  groups    Please  -ia(- 

Mrs.  E.  F.  Chase.  123  Summit  Street.  Burlington.  Vei 


Give  Your  Son  Adventure! 
Camp   Indian  Waters  —  Hayward.   Wisconsin    I 
Boys    7-16.    On    Teal    Lake    in    North    Woods     Land! 
water   sports   featuring   sailing,    western  style  trail  rl* 
Canadian  canoe  trips.   Mature  supervision. 
Preston    Zimmerman.    7950    S.     Paxton.    Chicago    17. 


Whether  you  are  changing  your  address  for  a  f 
months  or  permanently,  you  will  want  to  recei 
everj  issue  of  Harper's  promptly.  When  advisiffl 
of  a  change  of  address  please  indicate  both  the  r 
and  new  address.  Please  allow  six  weeks  for  effe 
ing  this  change. 

HARPER'S    MAGAZINE 

49  East  33rd  St.  New  York  16,  N.  \| 


All  subjects 
Family  and 
pleted. 


all      language 
■     storie 


To* 


Also     Genealogies     a  I 

Incomplete     sets     CO 

imbers     supplied.       Se  , 

obligation.       We     rept 


=V  1 1  magazine  back 
hst  of  wants.  N< 
quickly  at  lowest  prices. 
(We  also  supply  all  current  books  at  retail  sto 
prices— Postpaid,  as  well  as  all  books  reviewed,^  a\ 
vertised  or  listed  in  this  issue  of  Harper's  Magazine 
AMERICAN   LIBRARY  SERVICE 

117    West    48th    Street.    Dept.    H,    New    York    36,    N. 
X.B.     We  also  BUY  books  and  magazines. 


THE   OLDEST   WRITERS'   SERVICE 

Literary  Agent,  established  37  years.  Manuscl 
criticized,  revised,  typed,  marketed.  Special  attentioi 
Booh  manuscripts.  Poetry.  Catalogue  on  request. 

Agnes   M.    Reeve, 
Dept.   B.  Franklin 


ATHEIST   BOOKS 

32-page  catalogue  free. 
TRUTH  SEEKER  CO        38  Park  Row.  New  York  8,  N 


OUT-OF-PRINT   BOOKS 

—AT   LOWEST   PRIC 

Tou    name    it — we    find    it!    Fast    service.    No    ohligat 
Send  us  your  wants! 

INTERNATIONAL    BOOKFINDERS 
Box  3003-H.  Beverly  Hills.  Ca 


t 


e  new 


RECORDINGS 


Edward  Tatnall  Canby 


JAZZ     WITH     A     FUTURE 

ric  Larrabee's  new  column  on  jazz  is 
an  inevitable  addition  to  these  al- 
y  crowded  pages.  As  an  old  "classi- 
man,  I  only  wish  that  I  had  grown 
vithin  the  jazz  idiom  and  could  do 
job  myself. 

>r  a  while,  up  to  the  last  war,  jazz 
ied  headed  for  a  musical  dead  end. 
»ld  rigidities  were  distressing  to  out- 
musicians;  the  eternal  sixteen-bar 
s,  the  conventionalized  harmonies, 
neo-primitive  variation  form  that 
d  not  expand,  above  all  the  endless 
"beat"  that  made  jazz  sound  like 
-all  this  and  more  made  proponents 
real"  music  feel  that  jazz  was  a 
ialty  without  a  future, 
at  since  the  war  jazz  has  burst  loose, 
ady  it  has  gone  a  long  way  toward 
cal  freedom— and  that  applies  even 
ipposedly  conservative  jazz,  which  is 
loping  in  its  own  way,  like  the  con- 
ration  of  the  Bach  style  beyond  the 
er  Baroque.  Jazz  is  growing  furi- 
y  and  so  is  its  audience, 
e  must  keep  in  mind  that  until 
ively  recently  there  was  no  "classi- 
music— there  was  just  the  musical 
as  a  whole.  New  blood,  too,  has 
tantly  come  into  the  musical  art 
1  spontaneous  "outside"  develop- 
ts,  often  zany  enough  at  first  and 
uently  very  lowbrow.  "Why  should 
devil  have  all  the  good  tunes?"  said 
preacher.  The  dignified  Bach  Suites 
1  from  dance  music,  both  courtly  and 
ant-style.  Many  an  older  sacred 
rch  Mass  is  based  on  a  popular  tune 
he  day  and  even  named  after  it.  As 
i  it,  jazz  is  merely  the  latest  of  many 


fecund  influences  on  the  whole  body 
of  music,  on  the  way  to  blending  itself 
into  the  higher  form  of  musical  expres- 
sion  that   is  "art." 

The  real  potency  of  present  jazz  is  that 
it  lies  so  close  to  the  great  long-time 
musical  traditions  of  the  past— closer,  per- 
haps, than  much  modern  "classical" 
music-making.  Jazz  is  based  on  com- 
poser-performer identity;  it  is  alive  with 
improvisation,  within  an  understood 
style  and  framework.  (Nowadays,  the 
"improvisations"  are  being  written 
down,  in  true  classical  manner.)  Jazz  has 
a  strong  and  developing  sense  of  style,  as 
all  powerful  classical  movements  have 
always  had;  it  has  a  language,  and  an 
audience  that  knows  and  appreciates  its 
subtleties:  it  is  a  medium  of  intense 
musical  interchange  of  ideas,  between 
musicians,  between  them  and  an  argu- 
mentative public.  Jazz,  to  use  an  old 
term,  is  in  a  ferment. 

Nobody  can  say  exactly  what  consti- 
tutes first-grade  music.  But  these  signs 
of  ferment  have  always  been  the  essentials 
for  important  artistic  development  in  the 
past.  Too  many  of  our  present  "classi- 
cal" composers,  in  contrast,  work  by 
themselves  (not  for  audiences  but  for 
"performances")— or  for  well-meaning 
foundations  who  give  them  a  shapeless 
freedom,  in  the  name  of  artistic  democ- 
racy. Art  won't  flourish  in  a  critical 
vacuum— not  even  a  foundation  vacuum. 

|  a//,  of .  course,  is  no  longer  apart. 
Most  younger  jazzmen  are  now  "classi- 
cally" trained,  out  of  the  best  schools; 
jazz  already  is  nibbling  at  every  modern 
idiom  and  theory  you  can  mention.  It's 
getting  so  that  the  really  creative  grad- 
uates of  our  musical  system  go  straight 


WORTH   LOOKING   INTO 


■  eg:  Peer  Gynt  Suite   #1;   Symphonic 

■  ices;  Elegiac  Melodies.    Halle  Orch., 

■  birolli.  Mercury  MG  50164. 

91;  Wonderful  Waltzes  of  Tchaikov- 
I  and  Strauss.  Phila.  Orch.,  Ormandy. 
lumbia  ML  5238. 

l)og's  Life    (CBS  Radio  Workshop). 

■  iceived  and  Recorded  by  Tony 
ivvartz.    Folkways  FD  5580. 


Gilbert  &  Sullivan:  The  Gondoliers. 
Pro  Arte  Orch.,  Glyndebourne  Festival 
Chorus,  Sargent.    Angel  3570B    (2). 

Kenneth  Patchen  Reads  His  Poetry 
with  the  Chamber  Jazz  Sextet.  Cadence 
GLP-3004. 

Moore-Benet:  The  Devil  and  Daniel 
Webster.  Soloists,  Festival  Choir,  Orch.. 
Aliberti.    Westminster  OPW    11032. 


into  jazz— the  re-creators  go  classical.  No 
improvising  required.  On  every  front 
the  march  of  jazz  is  on.  It  still  isn't  my 
business;  "classical"  music  still  offers  a 
far  wider  variety  of  expression.  But,  I 
do  believe,  jazz  is  here  to  stay. 


Tchaikovsky:     Symphony     #6     ("Pathe- 

tique").  N.  Y.  Philharmonic,  Mitrop- 
oulos.  Columbia  ML  5235. 

The  "Pathetique"  is  in  a  ferment  too, 
these  days,  with  new  interpretations  like 
this  one  wrenching  the  old  score  into 
taut,  spare  modern  form!  Mitropoulos 
is  best  in  the  early  Romantic;  here  he 
wrestles  so  violently  with  time-worn 
conventions  that  the  result  is  both  ex- 
citing and  rough-edged.  Orchestral  per- 
fectionists will  deplore  the  too-fast  first 
movement,  not  too  fast  for  the  sense,  but 
too  rapid  for  the  musicians,  under  the 
circumstances.  (They  must  adjust  col- 
lectively to  a  new  viewpoint,  after  all.) 

But  it's  worth  the  constant  rough- 
nesses, just  to  hear  Tchaikovsky  burst 
out  like  Stravinsky,  in  the  first  move- 
ment's allegro!  This  is  no  definitive 
performance,  but  it  may  turn  out  to  be 
an  influential  one. 

Bach:  Unaccompanied  Sonatas  #1  in 
G  Minor,  #4  in  D  Minor  (with  Cha- 
conne).  Ruggiero  Ricci,  violin.  London 
LL  1706. 

Above  all  considerations  of  style  and 
tempo,  these  unaccompanied  fiddle 
works  require  a  flawless  violinist  ear, 
and  Ricci  has  the  best  in  the  business. 
The  music  is  in  skeleton  form,  implying 
a  structure,  both  in  harmony  and 
rhythm,  that  could  easily  be  filled  out 
to  orchestral  size.  The  player  who  hears 
the  music  that  way  at  least  has  a  chance 
to  convey  its  meaning;  but  no  amount 
of  pure  technique  will  ever  get  the 
message  over  if  it  isn't  there  in  the  first 
place.    It  very  often  isn't. 

Ricci's  unaccompanied  Bach,  then,  is 
by  all  odds  the  best  today  for  intelligible 
listening.  His  pitch  is  marvelous,  his 
sense  of  the  total  harmony  is  easy  and 
accurate,  his  rhythmic  phrasing  is  plastic 
but  never  a  bit  confusing.  With  Lon- 
don's pleasant  reverberation  to  back  him 
up,  Ricci's  Bach  is  marvelous  listening, 
and  effortless  too. 

Bach:  Two-  and  Three-Part  Inventions. 
Alexander  Borovsky,  piano.  Vox  PL 
10.550. 

Bach  on  the  piano  is  outmoded  but 
still  pleasurable  and  useful  for  those 
who  play  piano  and  enjoy  inspiration 
on  their  own  instrument.  Borovsky 's 
Bach  is  an  interesting  half-in-half  sort, 
out  ol  oldei  pianistic  tradition  but  re- 
studied  to  include  much  that  the  harp- 
sichordists   have    taught    us,    notably    a 


THE    NEW     RECORDINGS 


consistenl   use  of  the  ornaments,  arpeg 
gio   cadence  chords,   and   the   like. 

Like  many  a  pianist,  Borovsky  docs 
best  with  t  lie  more  complex  Inventions, 
plays  the  simpler  ones  rather  ineptly. 
There's  still  a  good  deal  of  the  old 
[eeling  that  these  are  nice  little  fingei 
exercises;  too  man)  are  in  the  same 
monotonous  tempo,  the  st\h  and  finger 
touch  arc  seldom  varied,  the  phrasing  is 
undynamic.  But  some  Inventions,  espt 
daily  the  slower,  more  "Romantic"  ones, 
are  lovely. 

Dvorak:    Symphony     #2    in    D     Minor. 

ll.illc   Orch.,    Barbirolli.     Mercury    MG 

50159. 

Elgar:     "Enigma"     Variations.     Purcell- 

Barbirolli:    Suite    for    Strings,    Winds. 

Halh    Orch.,    Barbirolli.     Mercury    MG 

50125. 

These  arc  two  ol  Mercury's  current  and 
interesting  Malic  scries  with  Barbirolli 
(also  on  stereo  tape),  displaying  thai 
familiar  unpredictability— both  good  and 
bad— which  we  in  New  York  remembei 
when  he  was  the  Philharmonic's  conduc- 
tor. The  Elgar,  British  music  to  the  core, 
is  absolutely  lovely— I  can  sa\  no  less.  I 
heard  the  stereo  tape  and  recommend 
it  for  its  warmth  of  sound,  too.  But  the 
Dvorak,  one  of  his  more  difficult  works 
at  best,  comes  oil  weakly.  In  this  sym- 
phony in  the  minor  key.  Dvorak  follows 
his  mentor.  Brahms,  into  some  of  the 
same  difficulties  that  beset  the  Brahms 
First  Piano  Concerto  and  other  severe- 
toned  works.  Barbirolli  is  evidently  not 
the  temperament  to  adjust  the  iron  in 
the  music  to  fit  the  sweeter  parts.  The 
recorded  sound  is  fine. 

The  Purcell  Suite  was  once  familiar 
concert  fare  (and  was  recorded  before 
the  war);  it  is  an  out-of-date,  roman- 
ticized arrangement,  but  its  sincerity  is 
still  pleasing  though  we  can  take  our 
Purcell  straighter  these  days. 

Beethoven:  Fidelio.  Rysanek,  Seefried, 
Fischer-Dieskau,  Hafliger,  Frick;  Chorus 
Bavarian  State  Opera,  B'av.  State  Orch., 
Fricsay.    Decca   DXH-147    (2). 

Maybe  opera  specialists  won't  be  as 
moved  by  this  as  I  was— I  found  it  the 
In  st  "Fidelio"  yet,  and  this  even  though 
the  solo  work  is  not  outstanding  on  an 
individual  basis,  and  the  tenor  is  a 
small,  quite  weak  voice.  What  is  good 
is  that  here,  at  last,  is  a  unified,  over-all 
presentation  of  Beethoven— the  solos, 
chorus,  orchestra,  spoken  voices  (in- 
cluded complete)  teamed  up  with  a  rare 
sense  of  style.  Even  the  weak  tenor  is 
good;  after  all,  the  prisoner  Florestan 
is  supposed  to  be  at  the  point  of  death! 
The  integration  is  tops  in  every  aspect, 
including  the  excellent  joining  ol  sung 
and    spoken    passages— too    often    tape- 


edited  together  with  little  sense  for  dra 
main  continuity.  I  he  orchestra  undei 
lins.ix  is  superb,  and.  unexpectedly,  so 
is  that  much-maligned  operatii  fixture, 
the  chorus.  Complete  German  1  nglish 
text  keeps  you  on  the  tra<  k. 

Gesualdo:  Madrigals  and  Sacred  Music. 
Conducted  l>\  Robert  Craft.  Columbia 
Ml    5234. 

It  is  wonderful  to  sec  a  renaissance  in 
the  Italian  vocal  composers  ol  the  \<i\ 

late  Renaissance,  who  are  so  superbly 
singable  and  Iistenable— but  to  date  the 
movement  has  been  sometimes  oddly 
styled,  the  singing  more  instrumental 
than  vocal,  Robert  Craft,  chief  Stravin- 
sky lieutenant,  lure  directs  a  crack  team 
ol  matched  voices  in  performances  that, 
for  once,  have  both  instrumental  ac- 
curacy and  i  I. in  degree  ol  rhythmic 
flexibility,  according  to  the  shape  and 
sense  of  the  words. 

But  there  is  still  lacking  one  vital  in- 
gredient— freely  untempered  pitch.  For 
my  ear,  these  people  still  sing  by  the 
piano's  pitch,  and  in  places  they  do  not 
hear  the  harmony  in  its  splendidly  dra- 
matic free  dynamic  color.  Gesualdo  did 
not  write  in  tempered  pitch  or  anything 
remotely   near  to  it. 

Curiously  enough,  amateur  singers 
who  t.uklc  his  music  discover  the  true 
pitch  lot  themselves,  without  benefit  of 
tempered-pitch  education.  Professionals 
must  un  learn  their  solfege  intervals! 
(This  disc  was  recommended  in  April— 
on  a  second  playing  I  figured  it  was 
worth  discussion  too.) 

Walton:  Cello  Concerto  (1956).  Bloch: 
Schelomo  (1916).  Piatigorsky;  Boston 
Symph..  Munch.    RCA  Victor  LM  2109. 

This  Walton  Concerto  is  an  unex- 
pected pleasure,  an  expertly  written 
piece  of  neo-Romanticism,  grateful  to 
the  cello,  full  of  the  traditional  cello 
expressions,  yet  by  no  means  a  show-off 
piece  for  cello  bravado.  In  this  spirit. 
Piatigorsky  plays  with  perfect  discipline 
and  the  RCA  microphones  place  him 
exactly  right  for  an  ideal  balance  be- 
tween solo  and  music.  It  is  a  work 
of  quiet,  almost  retrospective  maturity, 
this,  a  synthesis  of  much  in  Walton's 
own  generation,  with  strong  Prokofieff 
leanings  here  and  there,  much  lyricism, 
a  good  deal  of  nervous  explosiveness  and, 
inevitably,  a  measure  of  British  senti- 
ment. A  concentrated  piece  that  has  no 
room  for  extra  polemics. 

"Schelomo."  the  familiar  Hebraic 
Rhapsody,  was  out  of  the  RCA  catalogue 
while  the  other  big  firms  each  had  a 
version;  this  one  will  probably  jump 
straight  to  the  lead,  and  deservedly. 
Same  excellent  hi-fi  balance  and  the  same 
disciplined   high-level   solo  playing. 


JAZZ 


Eric  Larrabee 


notei 


MILE 


In  1957  a  thirty-one-year-old  trut 
peter  named  Miles  I);ivis  won  In 
place  for  the  instrument  in  both  tl 
Metronome  and  Doum  Heat  readers'  pol 
thus  making  it  official.  What  Louis  Ai 
strong  was  to  the  "classic"  era  ol  jaz| 
Miles  Davis  is  to  the  "cool." 

To   be  a    new    voice   the    ja//   musicia 
must    Inst    find    his    "sound."    a    wa) 
expressing   himsell    too  characteristfl 
be    mistaken    for    anyone    else's.     Mile 
solution    is    to    play   quietly,    evenly, 
most      without      vibrato— each      note 
steadily    breathed    as    to    seem    like 
single,    tubular   jet   of   tone. 

Drawn  from  Fast  St.  Louis  to  II  nlcr 
b\  Charlie  Parker,  and  encouraged  1 
a  friend  to  go  to  [uilliard.  Miles  is  r 
strangei  to  the  rhythmic  and  1i.imik.ii 
sophistication  that  bebop  and  betti 
training  have  added  to  jazz.  But,  eve 
while  taking  the  lead  for  tighter  orche 
nation  and  a  "cooler"  st\lc.  he  has  m 
lost  touch  with  the  sources  of  deligt 
and  warm  lyricism,  as  well  as  deep-rui 
ning  anger  and  sorrow,  in  jazz. 

"You   don't    learn   to  play   the   blues, 
he    has    said.     "You    just    play.     I    doi 
even     think     about     harmony.      It     j 
comes.     You    learn    where    to    put    not 
so    they'll    sound   right.     You   just    don 
do    it    because-   it's   a    funny   chord. 

The  famous  recordings  made  in   194 
50,    which    Capitol    now    calls    Birth 
the  Cool,  include  the  two,  "Israel"  1 
"Boplicity,"   described   as   "incontestafl 
masterpieces"  by  the  French  critic  And 
Hodeir.    The  arranger  Gil  Evans  plat 
an  essential  part  in  them,  as  he  also 
in    Columbia's    Miles    Ahead,    a    moi 
recent  album   Miles  himsell   lists  amo: 
the  few  he  really  likes.    But  the  listen 
will  discover,  from  any  of  these  recon 
that    there    is    more    to    the    1950s    th 
being  "beat." 


Miles  Ahead.    Miles  Davis   +    19.    Di 
by  Gil  Evans.    Columbia  CL   1041 

Birth   of    the   Cool.     1949  50   sides   wit 
Mulligan,   Konitz,  etc.    Capitol   T  76: 


I 


Collector's  Items.    With  "Charlie  Chan 
(Charlie   Parker).    Prestige  LP   7044 


Also:  on  Prestige:  Dig,  7012;  Mile 
7014;  Blue  Haze,  7054;  Cookin',  709' 
Bags'  Groove,  7109;  Relaxin',  7129;  o 
Debut:  Blue  Moods,  120;  on  Columbii 
'Round  about  Midnight,  CL  949;  o 
Blue   Note:    Vol.   1,   1501,   Vol.  2,   150! 


toft! 


i 


mmammmmmmmmmmmmmmm 


U 


\\ 


\  \  • 


!«*.., 


■Wii 


Inpress  Chinchilla  by  Leo  Ritter 


\ffter  Dinner-a  DRAM*  off  DRAMBUIE 


the  cordial  with  the  Scotch  whisky  base 


lor  a  luxurious  after-dinner  adventure, 
here's  nothing  like  a  dram  of  Drambuie, 
lade  with  a  base  of  finest  Scotch  whisky, 
I  rambuie  is  truly  a  whiff*  of  the  heather, 
I  ith  exquisite  aroma  and  unique  dry  flavour. 

'  rambuie    was    the    personal    liqueur    of 
rince  Charles  Edward  and  has  been  made 


in  Scotland  since  1745  from  Bonnie  Prince 
Charlie's  secret  recipe.  For  more  than  200 
years  it  has  delighted  discriminating  pal- 
ates the  world  over. 

Enjoy  Drambuie  in  the  traditional  cordial 
glass  or  on  the  rocks — with  twist  of  lemon 
peel  if  desired. 


j  "Dram— A  small  drink.  When  the  drink  is  Drambuie,  a  luxurious  after-dinner  adventure. 


80    PROOF 


i*J|MiiiN6 

it 


1PORTED    BY    W.  A.  TAYLOR    &    COMPANY,  NEW   YORK,  N.  Y. 


Sole  Distributors  for  the   U.S.A. 


to;  ) 


DEWAR'S 

White  Label 

and  ANCESTOR 
SCOTCH  WHISKIES 


Famed  are  the  clans  of  Scotlanj 

,-. .  their  colorful  tartans  worn  i: 

glory  through  the  centurie 

Famous,  too,  is  Dewar's  White  Labj 

and  Ancestor,  forever  and  alwaj! 

a  wee  bit  o'  Scotland  in  a  bottli 


|fohnDewar&St 

sTapiy 


Both  86.8  Proof  Blended  Scotch  Whisky  ©  Schenley  Import  Corp.,  N.  Y. 


JUNE  1958    ►    SIXTY  CENTS 

9 


magazine 

Notes  on  Political  Leadership 

Senator  Joseph  S.  Clark 


The  New  Jet  Air  Liners 

Wolfgang  Langewiesche 


The  Untold  Story 
Behind  Little  Rock 

Harry  S.  Ashmore 


The  Gang  That  Went  Good 

Dan  Wakefield 


Reforming  Chicago: 
Slow  hut  not  Hopeless 

John  Kay  Adams 

Australia: 
The  Innocent  Continent 

D.  W.  Brogan 


.UNAR  WORLD  OF  GROUCH! 


iendly  Talk 

Storm  Jameson 

eo  Rosten 


Your  life  insurance  premium  dollars  are 

making  jObS  throughout  America  in  all  these  enterprises  and  "MfW    ENGLAND 

many    more.    By    financing    long-range    modernization    and    expansion         _//t^/i   HJUclww^ 
programs,  they  are  helping  to   strengthen   the   national  economy,  and 
to  produce  a  better  life  for  you. 


C^fc/LIFE 


BOSTON.  MASSACHUSE 


THE    COMPANY   THAT   FOUNDED    MUTU/ 
LIFE    INSURANCE    IN    AMERICA    •    18: 


Low  telephone  earnings  do  not  mean  low  rates 
Good  telephone  earnings  do  not  mean  high  rates 


IVlany  years  ago  the  Bell  System 
edged  itself  to  provide  the  best 
jssible  service  at  the  lowest  possi- 
!e  price. 

We  meant  it  then  and  we  mean 
now. 


Today,  more  than  ever,  it  is  evi- 
ent  that  the  best  service  at  the  low- 
it  cost  in  the  long  run  depends  on 
ood  earnings. 

To  a  considerable  extent  the  pub- 
c,  and  we  are  afraid  many  who 
hould  know  better,  have  come  to 
aink  that  low  earnings  mean  low 
ates  and  good  earnings  mean  high 
ates. 

Yet  few  people  have  the  idea  that 
he  lowest  earning  soap  company 
nakes  the  best  and  cheapest  soap. 


The  best  service 

at  the  lowest  cost 

in  the  long  run 

depends  on  good  earnings 


Or  the  lowest  earning  meat  packer 
makes  the  best  and  cheapest  hams. 
Or  that  the  lowest  earning  company 
in  any  line  makes  the  best  and 
cheapest  products  and  renders  the 
best  service. 


It  doesn't  apply  to  the  telephone 
company  either. 

There  are  many  ways  in  which 
telephone  users  benefit  in  both  the 
cost  and  quality  of  service  through 
good  earnings  for  the  telephone 
company. 


BELL    TELEPHONE    SYSTEM 


II    V  It  P  I.  I!      8      I!  1!  ()  T  1 1  E  It  S 
I"  I    It  1.  I  s  II  I    It  s 

Chairman  of  the  Executive 

Committee:    <  VSS    CANFIELD 

('.hiiii mini  of  the  Board: 

I  K  \\K   S.    M  VCGREGOR 

President  and  Treasurer: 

K A1  MOM)    C.    IIARWOOD 

Via  Presidents: 

EDW  \KI)    ].    n  MR.    JR., 

i ■  i  (.i  m    i  \\i  \v  ordw  n    1 1  \i>, 

DAN  I  El     I  .    BRAD!  11  . 
JOHN    FISCHER,    EVAN    W.    rHOMAS 

/  ssistant  to  the  Publisher 
and  Circulation  Director: 

JOHN    JAY    HUGHES 
E  1)  I  I  O  It  I  A  I.     S  T  A  F  I" 

Editor  in  Chief:  john  fischer 
Managing  Editoi :  ri  ssei  i  i  i  \i  s 

/  ditors: 

KAI  III  RIN]     (.  U  ns    |  \(  KSON 

ERIC  LARR  Mil  I 

CATHARIN1     Ml  \  IK 

ANN]    (..   I  RI  I  DG 

ROB]  RI    B.   SI1  V]  Ks 
LUCY    DONALDSON 

Washington    Coi  respondent: 

Wll  LIAM    S.    WHITE 

Editorial  Sei  retary:  rose  dai  y 
Editorial  .  issistant: 

VIRGINIA    HUGHES 


ADVERTISING   DATA:    Consul) 

Harper-Atlantic  Sales,  Inc. 

49  East  33rd  Street.  New  York  16,  N.  V. 

Telephone  MUrray  Hill  3-5225. 

harper's  m  \<-  izini  issue  for 

June  1958.    Vol,  216.    Serial  No.  1297. 

Copyright's    1958  by  Harper  &  Brothers 

in  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain. 

All  iif;lit^.  including  translation  into 

other  languages,  reserved  by  the 

Publisher   in   the   United   States,   Great 

Britain.   Mexico  and  all  countries 

participating  in  the  International 

Copyright  Convention  and  the 

Pan-American  Copyright   Convention. 

Published   monthly   by   Harper  & 

Brothers,  49  East  33rd  St.,  New  York  16, 

N.Y.  Composed  and  printed  in  the  U.S.A. 

by  union  labor  by  the  Williams  Press, 

99-129  North  Broadway,  Albany,  N.   Y. 

Entered  as  second-class   matter  at 

the  post  office  at  Albany.  N.  Y., 

under  the  Act  of  March  3.  1879. 

subscription  rates:  600  per  copy; 

S6.00  one  year;  $11.00  two  years; 

$15.00  three  years.    Foreign  po-tage — 

except  Canada  and   Pan   America — 

$1.50   per   year   arldition.il. 

CHANGE  of  ADDRESS:    Six   weeks' 

advance  notice,  and  old  address  as 

well  as  new,  are  necessary. 

Address  all   correspondence   relating 

to  subscriptions  to;  Subscription  Dept.. 

49  East  33rd  St..  New  York   16.  N.  Y. 


Harioerl 


MAGA 


ZINE® 


jiM    1958 


vol.  2  Hi,  no.    1297 


ARTICLES 

23     Notes  on  Politicai    Leadership,  Senator  Joseph  S.  Clark 
Drawing  by  Allied  Bendiner 

31     Tin    Lunar  World  oi  Groucho  Marx,  Leo  Rosten 
Drawings  by  Robert  Osborn 

36     The  Gang  Thai  Weni  Good,  Dan  Wakefield 

Drawings  by  Charles  II'.  Walker 

50     Tin    New   Jet  Air  Liners,  Wolfgang  Langewiesche 

57      Fashions  in   Food.  William   II.  Adolph 
Drawings  by  Karla  Kuskin 

62     Australia:  The  Innocent  Continent,  D.  W.  Brogan 
Drawings  by  Frederick  E.  Banberry 

69     Reforming  Chicago:  Slow  But  Not  Hopeless, 
John  Kay  Adams 

Drawing  by  Muni 

FICTION 

44     A  Friendly  Talk,  Storm  Jameson 
Drawings  by  Tom  Keogh 

VERSE 

30     Of  Cats,  Ted  Hughes 

35     Augeias  and  I,  Robert  Graves 

52     Fable  for  Blackboard,  George  Starbuck 
Drawing  by  Irene  Aronson 

DEPARTMENTS 

4     Letters 
10     The  Easy  Chair- The  Untold  Story  Behind  Little  Rock, 

Harry  S.  Ashmore 
20     Personal  &  Otherwise:   Among  Our  Contributors 

78     After  Hours,  Mr.  Harper  and  Bernard  Asbell 
Drawings  by  N.  M.  Bodecker 

82     The  New  Books,  Paul  Pickrel 

90     Books  in   Brief,   Katherine  Gauss  Jackson 

94     The  New  Recordings,  Edward  Tatnall  Canby 

96     Jazz  Notes,  Eric  Larrabec 

COVER    by   Robert    Osbom 

HARPER'S     MAGAZINE 


WHICH  OF  THESE  BOOKS  HAVE  YOU  INTENDED  TO  READ  ...  AND  "NEVER  GOT  AROUND  TO"? 


i  HISTORY  OF  THE 
ENGLISH-SPEAK- 
ING PEOPLES 

by   Winston  S. 
Churchill 

1  Vol.  I:  The 
i  irth  of  Britain 
jl  Vol.   II:  The 

lew  World 

J  Vol.  Ill:  The 
j  ge  of  Revolution 
h  Vol.    IV:    The 

.real  Democracies 

<      Special   price   to 

I      members  of  each 

volume  $4.50 


D  INSIDE  RUSSIA 
TODAY 

by  John  Gunther 

"Readers  should 
approach  this  as 
if  it  were  required 
reading.  For  we 
must  learn  what 
Russia  is  like." 
Special  price  to 
members  $4.50 


□  NOT  BY  BREAD 
ALONE 

by  Vladimir 
Dudintsev 

"Probably  no 
work  published  in 
the  Soviet  Union 
has  caused  quite 
such  a  furor." 
Special  price  to 
members  $3.95 


□  BY  LOVE 
POSSESSED 

by  James  Gould 
Cozzens 

"Maturest,  most 
readable  piece  of 
American  fiction 
for  many  years" — 
Clifton  Fadiman. 
Special  price  to 
members  $3.95 


SesfiS1" 


Dthewinthrop 

WOMAN 
by  Anya  Seton 

A  superb  novel  of 
Gov.  John  Win- 
throp's  niece  Eliz- 
abeth, set  in  17th- 
century  New  Eng- 
land. 

Special  price   to 
members  $4.30 


□  ANATOMY  OF 
A  MURDER 

by  Robert  Traver 

A  ''wickedly 
quizzical"  novel 
telling  the  story 
of  a  murder  and 
a  murder  trial  in 
upper  Michigan. 
Special  price  to 
members  $3.95 


A  STUDY  OF 
HISTORY 

by  Arnold  J. 

Toynbee 
Two-Volume 
Abridgement 
by  D.  C.  Somervell 
Special  price  to  mem- 
bers (2   vols.)  $5.95 


Dthenew  class 

by  Milovan   Djilas 

"Let  there  be  no 
mistake,  this  is  a 
book  of  vast  sig- 
nificance, one  that 
could  shake  the 
Communist 
world." 

Price  $3.95 


□  MR.  BARUCH 
by   Margaret   L. 
Coit 

A  study  of  Ber- 
nard M.  Baruch, 
by  the  author  of 
the  1951  Pulitzer 
Prize  biography 
John  C.  Calhoun. 
Special  price  to 
members  $4.95 


□   THE  WAPSHOT 
CHRONICLE 

by  John  Cheever 

Winner  of  the 
1958  National 
Book  Award  for 
fiction.  "Magnifi- 
cently exuberant" 
story  of  Leander 
Wapshot  and  his 
family.   Price  $3.50 


□  ALARMS  & 
DIVERSIONS 

by    James   Thurber 

Thirty-two  stories, 
essays  and  articles, 
and  nearly  200 
drawings,  many 
never  before  in 
book  form. 

Special  price   to 
members  $3.95 


□    NUCLEAR 
WEAPONS  AND 
FOREIGN  POLICY 

by  Henry  A. 
Kissinger 
"A    brilliant,    in- 
dependent   analy- 
sis"— Time. 

Special   price    to 
members  $4.25 


□  THE  DEAD  SEA 
SCROLLS 

by  Millar  Burrows 

"The    first    com- 

ftrehensive  popu- 
ar  account  of  the 
scrolls  .  .  .  no- 
tably successful." 
Special  price  to 
members  $4.95 


□  THE  FBI  STORY 
by  Don  Whitehead 

"A  completely 
thrilling  account 
of  how  the  FBI 
operates,  in  war 
and  peace,"  long 
a  best-seller.  Fore- 
word by  J.  Ed- 
gar Hoover. 

Price  $4.95 


□  SPRING  ON  AN 
ARCTIC  ISLAND 
by   Katharine 
Scherman 

A  young  New 
Yorker  tells  of 
her  experiences 
north  of  the 
Arctic  Circle. 

Special  price   to 
members  $3.95 


Over  100  books  like  these  are  available  to  BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB  members  this  month  alone 


ilN  WITH  ANY  BOOK  ABOVE  ...  AND  RECEIVE   FREE 

One  of  these  Sets 
or  Reference  Works 


if  you  agree  to  buy  five  additional 
books  during  the  next  year  from  ap- 
proximately 200  that  will  be  available 


*^A 


:S-  ,*>iv? 


?v 


NEW  ILLUSTRATED  EDITION  OF  THE  COLUMBIA  ENCYCLOPEDIA  „.  „„ 

Complied  at  Colombia  University  retail  price     »JJ.UU 

THE  OXFORD  UNIVERSAL  DICTIONARY  retail  price    $25.00 

2515  pages   •    "The  beat  dictionary  or  its  size" 
CHURCHILL'S    THE   SECOND  WORLD  WAR      All  six  vols,  of  Sir  Winston's  epic  history 
RETAIL  PRICE  (if  bought  separately)       $39.00 

SANDBURG'S  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN— THE  WAR  YEARS  retail  price    $36.00 

The  Pulitzer  Prize    winning   biography  in    four  volumes 

THE  WORLD  OF  MATHEMATICS  Four  vols.,  boxed        retail  price    $25.00 

THE  OXFORD  REFERENCE  LIBRARY     Four  vols,     retail  prices  total  $27.25 


GOOD  SENSE:  A  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  •  There  are  at  least 
three  benefits  of  membership  in  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club 
that  are  beyond  question.  First,  you  get  the  books  you  want  to 
read  instead  of  missing  them  through  overbusyness  or  procras- 
tination— books  such  as  those  described  above.  Second,  you 
pay  an  average  of  20%  less  for  them  than  otherwise.  Third,  you 
share  in  more  than  $13,000,000  worth  of  free  books  (retail 
value)  now  distributed  annually  as  Book-Dividends.  This  offer 
really  represents  "advanced"  Book-Dividends  earned  by  the 
purchase  of  the  books  you  engage  to  buy  later. 

>ff  The  books  you  agree  to  buy  later  can  be  chosen  from  approxi- 
mately 200  Selections  and  Alternates  made  available  each  year. 

>fc  Each  month  you  receive  a  full  and  careful  report  about  the  next 
Book-of-the-Month.  If  you  judge  it  is  a  book  you  would  not  enjoy, 
you  may  send  back  a  form  (always  provided)  specifying 
some  other  book  you  may  want.  Or  you  may  simply  say, 
"Send  me  nothing." 

>\c  If  you  continue  after  this  trial,  you  will  receive  a  Book- 
Dividend,  averaging  almost  $7  in  retail  value,  with  every 
second  book  you  buy. 


BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB,    Int.,  345  Hudson  St.,  New  York  14,   N.  Y.  A36 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  member  of  the  Book-of-the-Month  Club*  and  send, 
free  the  work  I  have  Indicated  below  with  the  purchase  of  my  first  selection, 
alio     incll.   ,1  ■      l.el.m       1    : dt.ee    to     purchase    at    least    live    additional    monthly 

Selections^    Alternates— im-    !he    Inst    year    I    am   a    men.be r     T  he reafter 

I  need  buy  only  four  such  hooks  in  any  twelve-month  period  to  maintain 
membership.  1  have  the  right  to  cancel  my  membership  any  time  after 
buving    six    Club    choices.    After    my    sixth    purchase,     if    I    continue.    I    am    to 

receive  a   Book-Dlvidcnd  *    with    every  second    Selection—or  Alternate 1  buy. 

(A    small   charge   Is   added    to    cover  postage    and    mailing;  expenses.) 

PLEASE  NOTE:  A  Double  Selection— or  a  set  of  hooks  offered  to  mem- 
bers at  a  special  combined  price— Is  counted  as  a  simile  book  in  reckon- 
ing   Book-Dividend    credit,    and     in    fulfilling    the     membership    obligation. 

MY     FREE     WCRK  (3hocK    -nE    -,f    thc  s,lE    „  -jfrr3-«  w    Lta  I'.stsd  it  lift) 

MY     FIRST     PURCHASE (ch'osc' '  „^  ^ihe"  ^i^thms'  desrrii^ 'ahivei 

Mr.  \ 

jf™;/    (Please  Print  Plainly) 

Address 

r ..  Zone Stole 

Books' VoV  Canadian  members  arc  priced  slia t.t  '/''*>'"  cSoadia'nTirreticy" 
Toronto  dulil  free,  and  may  be  paid  for  in  eithci  U.S.  01  Canadian  currency. 


tTrademurk  Reg.  V .  S.  Pat,  Off.  and  in  Cana.de 


LETTERS 


Sounding  Off 

In   mi    Editors: 

"A  Combat  Veteran  Sounds  Off" 
[April]  is  very  good  and  [Colonel 
Crabill]  obviously  knows  what  he  is 
talking  about.  And  while  1  do  not  agree 
with  all  dI  Ins  conclusions,  I  concur  en- 
tirely in  the  genet  al  ten I  the  situa- 
tion .is  he  sirs  it. 

|  ami  s   \l.  ( ,  w  in.  Lt.  Gen.   (Ret.) 
\\  ashington,  1).  ( '.. 

.  .  .  Colonel  Crabill  and  this  ex- 
Marine  would  get  along  fine.  He  has  the 
guts  to  shout  out  loud  and  cleat  what  I 
and  othei  "troops"  have  been  thinking 
lor  years.  Get  the  Red  Cross  girls  with 
theii  tight  slacks  out  ol  the  ana.  keep 
the  Mothers  ol  America's  fingers  out  of 
the  necessary  tough  training  programs, 
and  let's  keep  men  like  Colonel  Crabill, 
the  Marine's  Chesty  Puller,  and  others 
of  their  caliber  in  the  military  where 
they  will  do  the  United  States  the  most 
good. 

Jof.  Rychetnik 
Portland,  Ore. 

...  I  have  sent  this  article  to  my  Con- 
gressman, asking  only  that  it  be  read 
to  the  Congress  every  morning  immedi- 
ately after  prayer  and  by  a  taxpayei 

M.  A.  Niland 
Ogden,  Utah 

Colonel  Crabill  paraphrases  a  Penta- 
gon argument:  "Wars  ol  the  future  will 
be  derided  by  atomic  bombs,  airplanes, 
and  guided  missiles.''  lie  altacks  this: 
"Russia  can  march  across  Europe  in 
about  three  months.  .  .  .  They  might 
possibly  be  stopped  at  the  source  bv 
bombing   Russian  cities  and   bases." 

He  seems  to  imply  that  these  weapons 
will  not  have  an  influential  voice  in 
any  future  war.  Who  is  he  to  sa\?  Who 
is  anyone  to  say  what  will  decide  any 
future  war?  What  does  the  Colonel 
think  the  mission  ol  wartime  air  power 
is.  il  not  to  destroy  the  source  — the  cities 
and  bases?  Does  he  think  we  would  use 
airplanes  and  missiles  as  grapeshot? 

|  vmes  I'.  Smith 
Denver,  Col. 

(  lolonel  (  a  abill's  next  senli  in  es, 
which  Mr.  Smith  does  not  quote,  were: 
Ale  we  prepared  to  sacrifice  the  east 
toast   of   the    United   States   lor   this?   .   .   . 


\n\    \n   Fori  e  "lln  i  i  kimus  thai  no  <lr 
fense  will  stop  all  the  bombers.    It  would 

lake    i  nib    i  n  ic     li  i    dt  slii  >\     a    (  il\." 

/  he    Editoi  s 

[The  introcluc  lor\  note  to  Colonel 
(  rabill's  article]  stales  "he  served  as  an 
infantry  oflicei  in  three  wars,  won  twelve 
decorations,  and  led  the  329th  Infant]  \ 
Regiment  in  combat  from  Omaha  Beach 
i' >  iln  Elbe  i  tv(  r."  \nd  he  i  aim  out  a 
full  colonel.  Ii  would  be-  interesting  to 
know  how  iii.i 1 1 \  officers  wlm  were  lieu- 
tenants when  lie  was  ol  that  lank,  or 
became  so  latei  on.  and  who  nevei  got 
within  a  combat  /one.  are  now  generals. 
I  Rl  li  (..  I  II  M  [NGTON,  It.  Col. 
Hillings,    Mont. 

Standing  Room  Only 

In    tin    I-  Di  iors: 

I  he-  solutions  to  overpopulation  out- 
lined b\  Arthur  C.  Clarke  ["Standing 
Room  Only."  April]  are  far  from  happy 
inns.    Howevei  it  seems  10  me  we  could 

accomplish  much  the  same  ends  moi  e 
easily    by   devious   means.    .    .   . 

Housing  authorities  and  unions  could 
simply  work  togethet  to  encourage  the 
construction  ol  ever-smaller  housing 
units.  1  Ins  could  be  accomplished  by 
requiring  open  featherbedding  on  the 
construction  crews,  squaring  the  num- 
Ihi  ol  nun  required  each  tune  a  bed- 
room was  added.      I  his.  COUpled  with   ju- 

dicious  use  ol  taxes  on  land,  improve- 
ments, and  building  materials,  would 
drastically  reduce  the  number  of  houses 
and  apartments  having  two  or  more 
bedrooms.  Further  refinements  could 
include  prohibitions  against  sleeping  in 
am  space  not  designed  lor  a  bedroom. 
.  .  .  Since  suitable  housing  lor  large 
families  would  not  be  accessible,  the 
majority  ol  people  would  voluntarily 
limit  the  size  ol  their  families.  My  own. 
lor  instance,  has  already  been  stabilized 
—shelter  loi  even  three-  children  cannot 
be  located  readily  in  ever)  city  to  which 
the   Navy  sends  me.   .  .  . 

In  event  of  population  explosions, 
remedies  could  be  invoked  singly  or  even 
combined  with  such  relatively  small  ef- 
forts as  increasing  the  si/e  and  cruising 
speed  ol  automobiles  without  improving 
mads,   etc  .... 

Byrum   A.    Hoi  i  r  |\c:k.    \KC 
FPO,  New   York,  X.  Y. 

Of  course  there  are  alternatives  to  the 
depressing   array   of    futures    Mr.    Clarke 

lines  up.  .  .  .  What  we  hope  lor  are  ways 


to  induce-  people  to  want  to  limit  lb 
Families  to  a  socially  desirable  si/e.  ()i 
a  totalitarian  country  could  impose  t 
coercive  measures  which  seem  to  be 

that    have   ')((  urred    to    Mr.   (  l.i)  ke. 

Some   ol    the   democratic    alternate 

were  I lulated  b\   Richard  L.   Meier 

the  University  ol  Michigan's  \h  n 
I  li.ilih  Research  Institute  at  a  com 
ence  sponsored  by  the  American  q 
manisi  Association  at  Ann  Arbor  1 
December.  (1  do  not  wish  to  adverj 
but  the  substance  ol  Mr.  Meier's  remi 
is  published  in  the-  Number  Two  h 
manist  lor  1958.) 

Main  peopli  he  s.i\s,  have  am 
\  all  in  is  about  I  .using  a  family,  and  t 
ait  will  be  to  make  other  ways  ol  1 
so  attractive  that  enough  [people-]  . 
will  choose  the  alternative  course.  1 
example,  mam  women  are  admiral 
fitted  loi  careers  and  professions  whi 
would  interfere  with  child  raising: 
addition  there-  are  the  delights  ol  trJ 
and  "the  new  active  leisure."  Sued 
found  its  birthrate-  falling  drastic! 
when  the  standard  ol  living  became  hi 
enough.  Mr.  Meier  sees  the  need  I 
removing  20  to  Ml  pet  cent  ol  worn 
out  ol  the  child-bearing  field,  and  th 
thinks  the  others  could  safely  be  lilt 
have  as  many  children  as  they  chose.  . 

Indeed  the  experience-  of  the  femini 
ol  liltv  years  ago  .  .  .  may  take  on 
new  relevance.  One  thing  is  certal 
the  present  climate-  of  feeling  puts  a  I 
tain  number  ol  artificial  pressures  i 
young  women  to  have  children.  .  .  . 

Priscilla  Robertson,  Edit 
The  Human 
Anchorage,  I< 

There  is  probably  more  "standi 
room"   than  we  think. 

Ever  since  man's  beginning  we  hi 
had  prophets  ol  doom.  They  used 
worry  about  too  lew  people  due-  to  i 
enough  food-  Now  they  worn  abi 
loo  main  people  clue  to  too  much  of 
I  don't  know  which  is  worse,  dying 
starvation  or  drowning  in  a  sea  of  1 
manity. 

Malthus  thought  we-  would  overpo] 
late-  the-  earth  because  of  the  acerle 
tion  ol  material  progress.  Althoui 
there  is  an  increase  in  population 
nnds  to  decelerate  with  the  accelerat 
ol  civilization.  Perhaps  this  decrease 
the  rale-  ol  increase-  will  continue  m< 
by  coincidence,  it  reaches  a  point 
stability  just  short  of  "standing  ro 
only." 

However,    il    in    the    meantime 
does  manage  to  destroy  himself,  it 
probably   be   only   from    the   exhaust 
of  predicting  such  a  destruction. 

Lorne  H.  W 
A/usa.   C 

.  .  .  Striding  headlong  in  its  se\ 
league  boots  .  .  .  science  is  even  t 
Stepping  over  the-  threshold  ol  enligh 


Canadian  Pacific . 


by  Sea . . .  across  the  Atlantic 


mm  mftJI  lilSMi  «  HliW  H   Ultlli  H  111*10    I  tttIK  HMHH    IIIHH    HIH 


Now  sail  the  sheltered  St.  Lawrence  River  Route  to  Europe 
aboard  a  Canadian  Pacific  "White  Empress" 


■•<,ix 


mm:-. 

amsw 


Right  now  you  can  book  passage 
to  Europe  via  Canadian  Pacific's 
"Landscape  Route."  Enjoy  1,000 
miles  of  inland  scenery  down  the 
St.  Lawrence  River,  with  a  third 
less  open  sea  travel  on  your  trip  to 
Europe!  Whether  you  travel  first 
class  or  tourist,  all  new  "White 
Empress"  staterooms  and  public 
rooms  are  individually  air-condi- 
tioned. From  stem  to  stern,  these 
magnificent  luxury  liners  are  de- 
England  is  understandably  proud  of 
her  traditional  pageantry.  The  daily 
Changing  of  the  Guard  at  Bucking- 
ham Palace  is  just  one  of  the  many 
colorful  sights  awaiting  you  in  Europe. 


signed  for  your  comfort  and  en- 
joyment. "White  Empress"  crews 
are  carefully  selected  to  provide 
unsurpassed  service.  The  cuisine 
is  superb.  And  you'll  find  com- 
plete recreation  facilities  on 
board.  Make  your  reservations 
now  for  tourist  or  first-class  pas- 
sage to  Europe  on  one  of  the 
sleek  "White  Empresses."  See 
your  travel  agent. 

World's  Greatest  Travel  System 

RAILWAYS  •  STEAMSHIPS'  AIRLINES 
HOTELS 'COMMUNICATIONS 'EXPRESS 


"La  Qncbrada"  Acapulco  Mexico. 

ACAPILCO 

the  world  famous  seashore  resort 
of  enthralling,  unforgettable  and 
mysterious  beauty,  where  nature 
stands  forth  in  singular  magnificence. 
Rugged  cliffs,  snow  -  white  beaches 
surrounded  by  exotic  tropical  vegetation. 
Here  you  can  enjoy  unexcelled  surf-bathing, 
boating  and  exciting  deepsea  fishing. 
Splendid  hotels,  incomparable  sunsets  and 
dancing  under  starry  skies. 

You'll  be  really  happy  vacationing  in  Mexico. 

MEXICO  aivails  you.      Your  travel  agent  will  tell  you. 

MEXICAN   GOVERNMENT  TOURIST  BUREAU 


LETTERS 

mi  in  .mil  will  sunn  know  wli.it  makes  a 
cabbage  .1  < . 1 1 •  I j . i ^ ■  ■  and  a  man  a  man. 
Unquestionably  in  the  ttiture  ii  can 
bring  aboul  mutations  so  that  the 
"I  uikI.iiih  11 1  .i  1  i \  new  approach  to  the 
nature  ol  man"  will  Ik-  through  a  genetic 
upheaval.  I  he  result  will  be  a  sturdier, 
inoi  e  mil  lligent,  more  adaptable,  lea 
fertile  u  eatui  e;  .i  <  reature  whose  life- 
time reprodiH  live  powci  s  will  be  In 
in  union  with  the  leniale  ol  tin  new 
species,  to  but  two  ol  his  kind.  I  In  se 
spawn  will  survive  against  all  odds  ea 
( i  pi  .K  (  idental  death  (pel  haps  evqj 
ih.it ),  lui  the)  will  In-  (Iim  ase  proof,  in- 
i  t-I  It  <  m. ilh  capable  ol  understanding  t  lit* 
new  world,  happily  adjusted  to  the  two- 
child   family.   .   .   . 

Lai  r a   W.    Dot  t.t.As 
I  errace   Park,   Ohio 

Bebermaii    Math 

To  the  Editors: 

WmIi  reference  to  the  article,  ' 'Math 
Even  Parents  Can  Understand."  by 
I'uri  I-.  Drucker  in  the  April  issm •:  liom 
whom  can  I  secure  the  texts  ol  the 
Beberman  course? 

)  <  ii  in  C.  LaughlB 
Montgomci  \.  Ala. 

We  suggest  that  you  write  to  ProfessB 
Max  Beberman  at  the  University  of 
Illinois,  Urbana,  Ill.-The  Editors 

Ja^z 


h 


ti 


LOS  ANGELES.  CALIFORNIA  3106  Wilshire  Blvd. 

CHICAGO.  ILLINOIS  27E.  Monroe  Street  Suite  No.  304 

HOUSTON,  TEXAS  809  Walker  Ave- 

MIAMI,  FLORIDA  45  Columbus  Arcade 

NEW  ORLEANS,  LOUISIANA  203  St  Charles  Street 


NEW  YORK,  N.  Y.  630  Fifth  Ave  No.  801    Rockefeller  Center 
SAN  ANTONIO,  TEXAS  209  E.  Travis  Street 

MONTREAL,  CANADA         1255  Phillips  Square,  Suite  No.  206 
TORONTO,  CANADA  20  Carlton  Street 

LA  HABANA,  CUBA        Calle  23,  No.  72  •  La  Rampe,  Vedado. 


To  the  Editors: 

I  was  highly  disturbed  to  see  sue 
large  amount  ol  span  in  your  April  is 
sue  devoted  to  the  subject  of  jazz,  ; 
questionable  art  form  at  the  very  leas 
["What's  Happening  to  fazz"  by  Na 
Hentoff].   .   .   . 

[azz  will  never  rise  above  the  "saloon 
audience,  lor  those  beyond  the  men 
talitv  found  there,  it  lias  nothin 
offer. 

Leonard  F.  Vim  in 
Venice,  Calil 

As  one-  of  those   jaZZ  "disc    jo<ke\s" 

llentoll     mentioned,     I     would     like     t 

thank   you   lor  publishing  a   thoughtf! 

article  on  an  oft-misunderstood  subje< 

To   those   of   us   in    the    field   ol    radi 

commentary  on  jazz,  critic    Hentofl  is 

voice  ol   sanity  and  perception.  .  .  . 

Gene  l-'i  i  h \ 

WFUV-F? 

New  York,  N.  i 

The  Nat  Hentoff  article  was  piece 
it  only  slightly  prejudiced  against  mai 
agers  of   ja//  music  ians. 

Papa   Celestin,  a   beloved  member 
our  board,  suffered  and  died   because  ( 


Exclusive* 


with  the 


Marboro  Book  Club 


<  Not  about  sex, 
but  a  book 
about  the  sexes 

"Men  and  women  are  emotionally  as  different  as  if  they  belonged  to  two 
different  species.  When  they  do  the  same  thing,  it  is  not  the  same,  even 
when  they  do  it  together." — from  OF  LOVE  AND  LUST,  a  Marboro  Book 
Club  Selection  by  exclusive  arrangement  with  Theodor  Rcik's  publishers. 


You  can  have  any  %j  of     $^75 
the  books  shown  for  only  %J  " 

Choose  from  OF  LOVE  AND  LUST-THE  ROOTS  OF  HEAVEN- 
THE  LIVING  PAST- MASS  CULTURE-  and  eight  other  important 
books  as  your  introduction  to  membership  in  the  MARBORO  BOOK 
CLUB. 

We  live  in  an  era  that  stresses  sex,  but  tries  to  minimize  the  differences 
between  the  sexes.  No  wonder,  then,  that  OF  love  and  lust  has  become 
one  of  the  most  controversial  books  in  years.  Written  by  Freud's  most 
famous  pupil,  it  reveals  how  differently  from  each  other  the  two  sexes  live, 
think,  and  love— each  attributing  a  significance  that  the  other  cannot  un- 
derstand to  the  sexual  act  that  binds  them  together. 
In  of  love  and  lust,  Theodor  Reik  analyzes  the  difference  between  mas- 
culinity and  femininity  as  they  manifest  themselves  in  almost  every  aspect 
of  life...  in  normal  and  perverse  sexuality,  in  romantic  love,  marriage, 
parenthood,  bachelorhood,  spinsterhood ;  even  in  the  way  we  spend  money. 

Here  is  Reik  at  his  fascinating  best,  showing  us  why  women  want  mar- 
riage so  profoundly  and  men  struggle  against  it... why  a  woman's  reasons 
for  adultery  are  different  from  a  man's...  why  women  talk  so  much;  and 
what  the  compulsive  housekeeper  is  really  trying  to  clean  up... why  men 
and  women  react  differently  to  policemen  (and  to  homosexuals).. .  and 
what  a  woman  really  means  when  she  says  she  "hasn't  a  thing  to  wear." 
Anyone  who  has  read  of  love  and  lust  will  tell  you  that  it  is  worth  every 
penny  of  its  $7.50  bookstore  price. 

To  demonstrate  the  values  that  discerning  readers  can  expect  from  the 
marboro  book  club,  we  offer  you  any  3  books  on  this  page  (including 
of  love  and  lust,  if  you  wish)  for  exactly  half  what  you'd  ordinarily  pay 
for  of  love  and  lust  alone. 

the  marboro  book  club  pools  your  buying  power  with  that  of  others  who 
share  your-  tastes,  and  saves  you  an  average  of  50%  on  the  self-same 
books  you  would  otherwise  purchase  at  full  price.  With  each  four  selec- 
tions (or  alternates)  accepted  at  Special  Members'  Prices,  you  receive 
a  superlative  bonus  volume  of  your  choice  at  no  additional  charge. 
Reach  for  a  pencil  right  now  and  check  off  any  three  of  the  books  shown. 
They're  yours  for  only  $3.75  with  an  introductory  membership  in  the 
marboro  book  club.  That's  a  saving  of  as  much  as  $21.25  on  regular 
bookstore  prices.  Mail  the  application  form  today,  while  this  exclusive 
offer  lasts. 


Choose  any  3  of  these  books  for  $3.75  with  Introductory  Membership  in  the  MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB!  Mail  your  application  today. 


D  OF  LOVE  AND  LUST.  By  Theodor 
Ileik.  Freud's  most  famous  pupil 
analyzes  the  hidden  nature  of  mas- 
culinity and  femininity,  normal  and 
perverse,  in  romantic  love,  in  mar- 
riage, parenthood,  bachelorhood,  and 
spinsterhood.  list  Price  $7.50 

0  THE  LIVING  PAST.  By  Ivar  Lissner. 
Brings  triumphantly  to  life  the  great 
discoveries  of  archaeology,  anthro- 
pology, and  comparative  religion. 
508  pages,  including  64  pp.  of  fabu- 
lous photographs  —  sculpture,  idols, 
architecture,  costumes,  &  other  treas- 
ures of  antiquity.       List  Price  $5.95 

□  THE  ROOTS  OF  HEAVEN.  By 
Romain  Gary.  The  prize-winning 
novel  of  adventure  and  intrigue  in 
Africa  that  the  N.  Y.  Times  calls 
"the  most  intellectually  stimulating 
novel  of  1958."  300,000  copies  sold 
in  France  alone — and  now  a  major 
bestseller  In  America. 

List  Price  $4.50 

O  LAST  TALES.  By  Isak  Dinesen. 
Twelve  new  tales  of  compelling 
beauty  and  enchantment  by  the  author 
of  Seven  Gothic  Tales.  "A  touch 
that's  magic  ...  Pure  delight."  — 
N.  Y.  Times  List  Price  $4.00 


a  SELECTED  WRITINGS  OF  JUAN 
RAMON  JIMENEZ.  First  representa- 
tive cross-section  of  prose  and  poems 
by  the  1056  Nobel  Prize  Winner,  in- 
cluding writings  never  before  pub- 
lished in  book  form.  List  Price  $4.75 

D  MASS  CULTURE.  Ed.  by  Rosenberg 
&  White.  Monumental,  wickedly  re- 
vealing portrait  of  the  "Lonely 
Crowd"  at  play.  David  Riesman, 
Edmund  Wilson.  Dwight  MacDonald 
and  other  distinguished  scholars  de- 
scend upon  the  "popular"  arts  with 
diabolical  zest.  List  Price  $6.50 

D  KLEE.  By  Gualtieri  di  San  Lazzaro. 
Paul  Klee's  greatest  "one-man  show" 
— a  triumphant,  summary  of  the  life 
and  work  of  this  Einstein  among 
painters,  with  360  reproductions  of 
his  most  famous  and  enigmatic  works, 
including  80  full  color  plates. 

lis*  Price  $5.75 

O  RELIGION  AND  THE  REBEL.  By 
Colin  Wilson,  author  .of  The  Out- 
sider. "The  idea  behind  it  is  one  of 
the  most  important  in  the  thought  of 
our  time,  the  most  effective  challenge 
to  materialistic  philosophy  yet  con- 
ceived."— N.  Y.  Times. 

List  Price  $4.00 


P  AND  THERE  WAS  LIGHT:  Man's 
Discovery  of  the  Universe:  From 
Babylonia  to  Sputnik.  By  Rudolf 
Thiel.  Does  for  Astronomy  what  Gods, 
Graves  and  Scholars  did  for  archae- 
ology. 128  illus.         List  Price  $6.95 

D  BEING  AND  NOTHINGNESS.  By 
Jean-Paul  Sartre.  Sartre's  Philoso- 
phy of  Being,  including  his  views  on 
social  relations,  his  doctrine  of  free- 
dom, and  existential  psychoanalysis. 
635  pages.  List  Price  $10.00 

a  THE  LIVELIEST  ART.  By  Arthur 
Knight.  A  panoramic  history  of  the 
Motion  Picture  as  an  art  form — from 
Melies  and  Griffith  and  Eisenstcin  to 
Basho-mon,  Uossellini,  and  Mike 
Todd — by  the  distinguished  film 
critic  of  the  Saturday  Review.  With 
photographs.  List  Price  $7.50 

a  THE  GREEK  EXPERIENCE.  By  C  M. 
Bowra.  An  almost  incredibly  bril- 
liant summing-up  of  the  whole 
achievement  of  Greek  civilization 
from  the  time  of  Homer  to  the  Fall 
of  Athens,  with  64  full  pages  of  rare 
photographs.  The  London  Spectator 
calls  it  "A  masterpiece" — and  it  is. 
List  Price  $6.00 


MARBORO  BOOK  CLUB 

131  Varick  Street,  New  York  13,  N.  Y. 

You  may  enroll  me  as  a  new  member  of  the  Marboro 
Book  Club.  Please  send  me  the  THREE  hooks  checked 
at  the  left  at  only  $3.7",  plus  shipping  for  all  three. 
Forthcoming  selections  anil  alternates  will  be  described 
to  me  in  a  Monthly  Advance  Bulletin  and  I  may  decline 
any  book  simply  by  returning  the  piinted  bum  always 
provided.  I  agree  to  buy  as  few  as  four  additional 
books  (or  alternates)  at  the  reduced  Member's  Price 
during  the  next  twelve  months:  and  I  may  resign  at  any 
time  thereafter.  1  will  receive  a  free  BONUS  BOOK 
for  every  lour  additional  books  1  accept. 


SEND  NO  MONEY  NOW! 


NAME_ 


ADDRESS- 


CITY- 


_ZONE STATE. 


{Memberships  available  only  in  continental  U.  S.  and 
Canada.  Prices  sliahtly  hiaher  in  Canada.)  MH-25S 
GUARANTEE:  If  you  are  not  completely  satisfied  with 
this  SPECIAL  OFFER,  you  may  return  the  books 
within  7  days  and  your  membership  will  be  cancelled. 


COM  i\<;   IN 


Harpers 

-*■        magazine 


NEXT   MONTH 


\ ETER  \\S: 

Our  Biggest   Privileged  (.lass 

\  veteran  with  ;i  partial  •  1 1 -. i - 
bilit)  lor  which  he  has  refused 
to  colled  i<ll-  liou  the  veterans' 
groups  arc  pressuring  Congress  into 
oik-  of  the  mosl  flagranl  misuses  of 
public  money  this  country  has  ever 
seen. 

By  Joli  ii   K.  Booth 


CI  IDE  TO  '58  AND  '60 

A  noted  political  analysl  sums 
■  1 1 »  hi-  findings  state  b\  -talc — and 
forecasts  the  issues,  candidates,  .mil 
trends  which  will  make  the  next 
chapter  in  American  history . 

By   William    G.   Carleton 


TIME  ON  OUR  HANDS 

The  more  leisure  we  get,  the 
more  people  worry  about  it.  A  well- 
known  commentator  on  American 
manners  and  social  habits  comes 
up  with  some  unexpected  answers 
on  how  to  make  the  most  of  our 
play  time. 

liy  Russell  Lvnes 


sol THERNERS 

II  li<>  Set   the   Woods  on   Fire 

More  than  80  per  cent  of  the 
nation's  forest  (ires  occur  in  the 
South  .  .  .  many  of  them  arc  de- 
liberately set  by  firebugs.  \\  hy  do 
they  do  it?  And  is  there  any  way 
thej    can   he  -lopped'.'' 

liy    Ed    Kerr 


L  E  T  T  E  R  S 


the  pressure  ol  such  managers  on  Bout 

linn    Si 

I  In  re  is  anothei  facet  oi  the  probli  m: 
discrimination.      We     find     thai     man) 
N<  ",m   jazz  musii  ians  <  annot    find   suil 
able  audiences  and   support.    We   have 
ii  ied  .Hid  are  ii  ying  to  help. 

|.    \mi  ki\  (,ki  i  \i ,  Pres. 

Intel  national   fazz  Foundation 

New   Orleans,   La. 

Welfare   Disease 

I  o    i  in     I m  urns: 

What    the   upshot   ol    the    Egalitarian 
\ ge  .Hid  the  Welfare  State  will  be  is  ol 
interesting   import.   .   .   ,    Nforman    Mai 
Kenzie's  "  I  he   I  nglish   Diseasi  "   [  \pi  il| 
ha"s  i  .used  the  issue.  .  .  . 

Whethei  the  I  nglish  will  evei  reco-v ei 
from  the  opiate  the  1  .eftists,  aided  and 
abetted    from    time    to    time    In    soft 
hearted  and  sofl  headed  aristocrats,  have 
pn  pared  foi  them  I  don't  know.  .  .  . 

\Vh<  ii    I  ngland   was  great,   I   seem  id 

Hi. ill.   thin    was  the   usual   natural    in 

i  quality    stalking    lustily    through    hei 

population  .mil  hei   institutions.  .  .  . 

1 1 1  \k\   C.  M<  Gavack 

fai  Kmpii   I  [eights,   N.  Y. 

Not  So  Daml) 

I  o   in)    1-  in  roRs: 

We  were  much  intrigued  In  Vrthur  C. 
Clarke's  "Out  Dumb  Colleagues"  [Feb 
i  ii.ii  \  I.  espe<  i.iIK  since  we  have  in  the 
past  ten  years  [in  oui  nmk  in  applied 
animal  psychology]  trained  pigs  to  run 
vacuum  cleaners  and  pump  water, 
(hi(kens  to  sell  pnsUaids,  rabbits  to 
p. mil  Eastei  eggs,  and  raccoons  to  turn 
egg  beaters. 

Seriously,  many  ol  the  ideas  Mr. 
Clarke  suggests  are  practical  possibilities. 
Recent  advances  in  psychology  have 
shown  that  workable,  humane  control 
can  he  economically  achieved  over  wide 
ranges  ol  annual  behavior,  and  that  be 
havior  so  controlled  is,  in  many  cases, 
more-  reliable  than  machinery  or  elec- 
trons devices.  Mrs.  Keller  Breland 
lint  Springs,    \ik. 

Stopping  the  Slump 

lo    l  in     I  in  inks: 

Russ  M.  Robertson's  article-  ["Four 
Steps  to  Mali  the  Slump,"  April]  is 
written  with  precision  and  elegance. 
However,  except  for  his  sweeping  "im- 
balance the  budget,"  his  four  steps  sug- 
gest remedies  more  procedural  than 
in, iii  i  ial. 

\    policy   ol    unbalanced    budget,    pur- 
sued   with    the   abandon   ol    Mr.    Robert 
sun's  suggestion,  is  more  likelv  to  bring 


about  deep  i  <  onomic  imbal.mc  is  than 
lasting  lull  employment.  It's  like  vita 
mills  lake  too  many,  .nul  the  body 
throws  them  away. 

What  Mi.  Robertson's  words"  "con 
sistc  in  y"  ,ind  "(  iiIk  ii  in  e"  implv  Inn  do 
not  (Ic.ulv  s.iv  is  thai  din  economy 
lac  ks  an  ovci  all  ec  onomic  projee  t ion,  a 
goal,  especial})  in  the  total  ol  yearly 
national  investment  loi  consistent  and 
balanced  veal  Iv  growth;  that  the  Council 
ill  I  c  iimnnic  \clv  isc  is  h.is  bided  to  pre- 
pare one:  that  the  Administration  has 
alsu  bnlecl  to  propose  a  corresponding 
svstem  ol  incentives  (oi  restraints)  to 
attain  it.  We  have  used  the  brakes  of 
credit  tightening.  Now  we  will  have  to 
apply  the  a<  <  eleratoi  ol  dene  ii  spending. 
What  we  a<  in.illv  need  is  the  steering 
wheel  .i\\i\  stead)  pace  ol  economic  pro- 
graming ( )l  Ml    \U  RIANKK 

\tlanla.    (.;i. 

Team   Doctors 

I  o   i  iii    1  in  roRs: 

I  have  read  with  great  interest  Mis. 
Sanders'   excellent    article  on   "Country 

Doc  lots   Calc  h    I   p"    [April]. 

I  feel  Mis.  Sanders  has  some  what 
exaggerated  the  opposition  ol  organized 
medicine  to  group  practice;  so  l.u  as  I 
know  the   American  Medical    Vssociation 

has  nevei  opposed  llus  loim  ol  practice. 
Ibis  Association,  consisting  ol  112  lull 
and  9  associate  nieinbei  s.  although  in- 
dependent, works  closely  with  the  AMA 
on  many  matters  ol  common  concern.- 
\  large  number  of  enir  members  are  in 
"rural"  areas  oi  small  cities.  We  believe 
that  properly  constituted  private  group- 
practice  e  links  oiler  one  means  ol  bring- 
ing good  medical  care  to  the  residents 
ol    Communities    huge    and    small. 

Edwin  I'.  Jordan,  M.I). 

Amcr.  Assn.  ol    Medic  al   Clinic  s 
c  lharlottesville,  \'a. 

I  believe  I  understated  the  stubborn 
rear-guard  action  organized  medicine 
has  fought  against  group  practice.  .  .  . 
The  real  targets  have'  been  the  groups 
offering  day-to-day  medical  care-  which 
inevitably  compete  with  I  lit  general 
practitioner.  The  bailie-  against  them 
has  been  chiefly  waged,  as  I  pointed  out 
iii  my  article,  by  local  county  medical 
societies  which   are   the  components  ol 

the-    \MA \  review  of  the  position 

ul  organized  medicine  will  be  found  in 
Chapter  VIII  ol  Medical  Care  for  Today 
and  Tomorrow,  the  excellent  book  by 
Michael  M.  Davis  (Harper  &  Brothers, 
1955).  Ii  contains  a  detailed  indictment 
which  cannot  be  adequately  doc  umented 
within  the  space  limits  of  a  magazine 
article  or  correspondence  column. 

Marion  K.  Sander! 
New  York,  N.  Y. 


w#i 


m 

1  ,^K~ 

I  i      ,  as58""***  - 

"m 


i.i 


I  Mi   B 


-,5  ; 


from  jkeMetropolitanMuseum  of  Art 


LL-COLOR  MINIATURES 

^Vincent  van  £joah 


OF  FAMOUS 
PAINTINGS  BY 


A  DEMONSTRATION 


of  a  simple  and  sensible  way — particularly 

for  families  with  children — to  obtain 

a  well-rounded  education  in  the  history  of  art 

THE  MINIATURES  PLAN  .  Once  a  month  the  Museum 
reproduces  a  selection  of  paintings  in  full  color. 
Each  set  deals  with  a  different  artist  or  school  and 
contains  24  fine  color  prints  (slightly  larger  than 
shown  at  right)  and  a  32-page  album,  in  which  the 
artist  and  his  work  are  discussed,  and  in  which  the 
prints  can  be  affixed  in  given  spaces.  In  effect  the 
project  is  an  informal  but  comprehensive  course  in 
the  history  of  art  for  persons  of  all  ages — but 
particularly  for  young  people — an  ideal  way  for 
parents  to  induce  in  them  a  lifelong  interest  in 
great  art. 

ONE-MONTH  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  SUGGESTED,  with 
no  obligation  to  continue.  The  purpose  is  to 
acquaint  you  with  the  project.  At  no  expense  you 
can  examine  the  24  miniature  reproductions  of 
paintings  by  Vincent  van  Gogh,  read  the  album 
— then  decide,  within  the  month,  whether  or  not 
you  wish  to  continue.  If  not,  simply  let  us  know  and 
we  shall  immediately  cancel  your  subscription.  No 
matter  what  your  decision,  the  introductory 
Vincent  van  Gogh  set  is  free.  The  price  for  each 
set  (if  you  continue)  is  $1.25,  including  the  album. 
With  the  first  set  purchased,  and  with  every  sixth 
set  thereafter,  you  will  receive  free  a  portfolio 
which  holds  six  albums. 

PLEASE  NOTE:  Since  the  Metropolitan  Museum  is 
unequipped  to  handle  the  details  involved  in  this  proj- 
ect, it  has  arranged  to  have  the  Book-of-the-Month 
Club  act  as  its  national  distributor.  The  selection  of 
subjects  and  the  preparation  of  the  color  prints  remain 
wholly  under  the  supervision  of  the  Museum. 


BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH  CLUB,  Inc.  39-6 

345  Hudson  Street,  New  York  14,  N.  Y. 

Please  send  me  at  once  24  full-color  Miniatures  by  Vincent 
van  Gogh,  with  album,  without  charge.  This  may  be  con- 
sidered a  trial  subscription.  I  reserve  the  right  to  cancel,  ac- 
cording to  your  offer,  within  one  month  or  any  time  there- 
after. If  I  continue,  after  this  free  set  I  will  be  billed  $1.25  for 
each  set  of  Miniatures  with  album  (plus  10  cents  for  postage). 
To  facilitate  handling  and  billing,  two  sets  will  be  sent  every 
second  month.  With  my  first  purchase  I  will  receive  free  a 
handsome  portfolio  in  which  to  keep  six  albums.  Additional 
portfolios  will  be  sent,  also  without  charge,  as  they  are  needed. 
Whether  I  decide  to  continue  or  not  the  free  set  is  mine  to  keep. 


Mr 

Mrs. 

Mi. 


4 

ss  ) 


Address 


City. 


.Zone State. 


HARRY   S.   ASHMORE 

1958  Pulitzer  Prize  Winner 


the  Easy  Chair 


The  Untold  Story  Behind  Little  Rock 


The  executive  editor  of  the  Arkansas  Gazette 
and  (initio)  of  Epitaph  for  Dixie— widely  ac- 
claimed as  the  best  O)  ret  cut  books  about  the 
South— examines  the  failure  of  ou>  press,  TV,  and 
radio  to  report  what  really  happened  in  his  city. 
His  paper  won  a  Pulitzer  Prize  this  year  for 
meritorious  public  service  and  My.  Ashmore  him- 
self received  another  foi  his  editorials  during  the 
Little  Rock  crisis. 

F()  R  some  months  now  I  have  served,  in 
addition  to  my  other  duties,  as  something  of 
a  public  monument,  a  sight  to  he  seen  by  dis- 
tinguished visitors  on  safari  to  Darkest  Arkansas. 
They  still  come  in  a  seemingly  endless  stream  to 
view  the  scene  of  the  Battle  of  Little  Rock- 
small,  brown  men  from  the  Orient,  lady  parlia- 
ment members  from  Norway,  earnest  students 
from  Eastern  universities,  pipe-smoking  profes- 
sors of  sociology,  ecclesiastics  of  every  tank  and 
denomination,  and  journalists  without  number. 
They  go,  usually,  to  look  upon  the  site  of  Faubus' 
charge  and  Eisenhower's  envelopment,  visit  the 
governor  in  his  marble  sanctuary,  and  come 
finally  to  what  a  friend  of  mine  has  termed,  in- 
accurately  I  hope,  Ashmore's  Tomb. 

These  visitations  often  provide  unique  intel- 
lectual exercise.  It  is  stimulating,  at  least,  to 
discuss,  through  a  French  interpreter,  the  states' 
rights  doctrine  of  John  C.  Calhoun  with  a 
Japanese  professor  of  European  literature.  But 
I  encounter  a  besetting  frustration,  too.  With 
only  rare  exceptions  the  visitors— domestic  no 
less  than  foreign— come  with  an  image  of  Little 
Rock  firmly  fixed  in  their  minds,  an  image 
fashioned  by  the  millions  of  words  sprayed 
through  the  communications  media  since  the 
balloon  went  up  last  September.  And  I  doubt 
that  the  image  is  perceptibly  altered  even  when 
they  gaze  upon  a  quiet,  attractive  city  built 
upon  tree-clad  hills  where  civilized  people  still 
go  about  their  ordinary  business  without  visible 
trepidation. 


There  is,  ol  course,  good  reason  why  Little 
Rock  has  become  a  symbol  t hat  arouses  strong 
emotions  among  people  everywhere  in  the  world. 
Events  have  made'  the  \ci\  name  ol  the  city  a 
battle  u\  for  those  on  both  sides  of  the  great 
moral  issue  that  lias  divided  this  nation  through 

most  ol  its  history,  and  still  divides  it.  "Remem- 
ber Little  Rock"  proclaims  the  <41e.it  seal  that 
adorns  propaganda-bearing  envelopes  going  0111 
from  the  headquarters  ol  the  Southern  Citizens' 
Councils,  rhe  same  words  have  been  sounded  l>v 
Negro  hoodlums  moving  with  drawn  knives 
against  whiles  in  the  slum  streets  of  Northern 
c  ities. 

h  follows  that  there  lias  been  considerable 
deliberate  tinkering  with  the  image  at  home  and 
abroad.  Little  Rock  was  about  as  handy  a  pack 
age  as  the  Russians  have  had  handed  them  since 

the)  set  out  to  woo  the  colored  peoples  of  the 
earth.  In  the  South  (and  among  some  ol  the 
copperhead  columnists  who  espouse  states'  lights 
above  Mason  and  Dixon's  line)  a  whole  new 
mythology  has  evolved  to  fit  extant  prejudices 
against  the  central  government.  Westbrook  Peg- 
ler,  lor  example,  has  solemnly  contended  that 
Old  Applehead  sent  his  stormtroopers  into  Little 
Rock  lo  assault  innocent  citi/ens  not  only  with- 
out legal  sanction  but  without  cause,  and  John 
Temple  Graves  maintains  on  several  Southern 
editorial  pages  thai  the  mob  which  overran  the 
Little  Rock  police  force  was  "Harry  Ashmore's 
imaginary,  lion  in  the  siiceis."  The  effort  is  far 
advanced  to  expunge  from  pliant  Southern  mem- 
ories the  salient  fact  thai  Orval  Faubus  moved 
first  with  force  ol  arms  when  he  sent  his  state 
militia  to  sei/e  Central  High  School  in  naked 
defiance  of  a  federal  court. 


WHAT     THE     REPORTERS 
didn't    SEE 

BUT  this  I  regard  as  incidental,  a  natural 
hazard  ol  my  trade  and  my  time.  What  gives  me 
professional  pause  is  the  odd.  distorted,  and 
grosslv  Incomplete  image  of  Little  Rock  carried 
around  by  those  who  got  their  facts  straight,  and 
in  great  abundance.  Among  my  present  afflictions 
is  the  gloomy  suspicion  that  somehow  as  we  im- 
prove the  mechanical  means  of  communication 
we  are  losing  the  fundamental  ability  to  com- 
municate; we  are  talking  more,  that  is,  and 
sav  ing  less. 

In  my  time  I  have  seen  the  mass  media  expand 
to  include  the  formidable  newcomer,  television, 
and  add  a  new  dimension  to  the  raw  stuff  of 
history.  In  the  same  span,  newspapers,  although 
financially  weakened  by  the  additional  competi- 
tion for  attention  and  the  advertising  dollar, 
have  improved  their  techniques;  we  get  the  news 
faster  and  dish  it  up  in  prettier  packages.  We 
are  as  free  as  we  have  ever  been— which  means 
that  we  are  as  free  as  our  proprietors  have  the 
heart  and  the  will  to  be.  [Continued  on  page  12.] 


The  man  who  wants  to 


KNOW 


£  ways,  since  the  dawn  of  mankind,  there 
I;  s  been  the  man  who  wanted  to  KNOW 
I  e  thing  or  many  things. 

Often  that  instinct  to  know  was  merged 
lj  th  the  instinct  to  survive;  in  this  there 
i;  nothing  new. 

JToknowhowto  grow  food,  howto  build 
fie,  how  to  turn  a  wheel  —  to  know  -why 
£  Daby  could  die  or  a  flower  grow.  . .  all 
t,3se  desires  play  their  parts  in  the  long 


story  of  man,  thinking. 

Man  today  is  still  man  thinking,  man 
seeking  and  studying  and  searching. 

Anything  that  elevates  thinking  man  to 
new  importance  must  in  the  end  favor 
free  men  over  slave  men. 

Thus,  the  current  upgrading  of  the  man 
who  wants  to  know  finds  an  answering 
upthrust  in  the  American  mind  and  heart. 

TIME -The  Weekly  Newsmagazine 


12 


THE     EASY     (HAIR 


Yet  with  all  of  this,  we  s£em  to  be  no  nearei 
a  solution  to  tin-  fundamental  problem  that  has 
besei  its  since  Gutenberg  perfected  movable  type 
-how  to  present  the  day's  events  in  meaningful 
perspective.  Indeed,  in  sonic  important  ways, 
we  scon  to  be  moving  in  the  opposite  direction. 
The  concentration  on  technique  can,  and  often 
has,  become  .1  son  ol  refuge  from  this  more 
complex  problem.  One  ol  the  major  wire  services 
is  still  bemused  l>\  Dr.  Rudolph  Flesch's  formula 
which  seeks  salvation  through  syntax,  and  holds 
that  public  understanding  can  be  improved 
through  shorter  sentences  and  more  frequent 
paragraphs.  It  seems  to  me  it  doesn't  really 
maitei  whal  tools  we  use  so  long  as  w<  are  prom 
to  wake  up  each  morning  and  discovei  .1  whole 
new  world  ,nu\  write  about  it  as  though  nothing 
1  (  lex. mi  had  gom    b<  fore. 

I  he    Little    Rock    Story    is   a    c.ise    in    point.     It 

was.  by  universal  judgment,  the  second  biggest 
news  story  ol  the  yeai  topped  only  b\  sputnik. 
It  attracted  a  concentration  ol  correspondents, 
photographers,  and  radio  and  television  tech- 
nicians comparable  to  thai  which  assembles  lor 
.1  national  political  convention.  I  he  newspapers, 
wile  seiviecs,  and  networks  sent  theii  best  men, 
too— seasoned  hands  to  handle  the  fast-breaking 
spot    news  and   1  h  ink-piec  c  experts  to  back   them 

up.  For  many  days  the  story  had  top  priority  on 
ever)  news  desk  iii  ihis  country  and  abroad— 
which  meant  the  men  on  the  ground  could 
count  on  whatever  space  01  time  it  took  to  re- 
port their  findings  in  lull.  It  is  lair  10  say  that 
contemporary  journalism's  best  efforl  went  into 
the  Little  Roc  k  slory. 

Yei  Harold  C.  Fleming,  the'  perceptive  execu- 
tive director  ol  the  Southern  Regional  Council, 
whose  business  it  is  to  chart  the  shifting  pattern 
ol  race  relations  in  the  South,  has  written  ol  the 
result: 

.  .  .  what  do  the  millions  ol  words  and  tele- 
vision images  add  up  to?  Have  they  given 
Americans— to  say  nothing  ol  foreigners— a 
clearer  understanding  ol  the  South's  malaise? 
As  a  result  ol  them,  will  the  national  shock  be 
less  or  the'  insight  giealei  il  a  similar  erup- 
tion accompanies  desegregation  in  Dallas  or 
Charlottesville  or  Knoxville?  We  can  hope 
so,  but  not  widi  much  optimism.  Only  a  lew 
major  newspapers,  like  the  New  York  Times, 
a  lew  thoughtful  television  and  radio  com- 
mentators, and  a  few  good  magazines  sought 
to  give  a  meaningful  perspective  to  their  re- 
ports from  Little  Roe  k. 

Conspicuously  lacking  in  most  interpreta- 
tions is  any  sense  ol  continuity.  The  upheavals 
in  Tuscaloosa.  Clinton,  and  Little  Rock  were 
not  isolated  events,  but  episodes  in  an  un- 
folding drama  e)l   social  change.  .  .  . 

I  can  hie  no  dissent  from  Fleming's  verdict.  1 
was  there  when  the  cowboy  reporters  rode  in  to 
die    scent   ol    blood.    They  did   not  have  to  seek 


I01  drama;  it  was  thrust  upon  them,  with  a  eniii- 
plete  set  ol  heroes  and  villains  and  these  readily 
interchangeable,  depending  upon  your  point  of 
view,  I  do  not  charge  that  the  piess  sensa- 
tionalized the  Little  Rock  stoiv:  the  lacts  them- 
selves were  sensational  enough  to  answei  an) 
circulation  manager's  dream.  Moreover,  I  believe 
that— with  rare  exceptions— the  men  and  women 
who  reported  the  Little  Rock  stoiv  were'  compe- 
tent and  conscientious.  Similarly,  1  have  no 
reason  10  believe  thai  any  but  a  tiny  handful 
were  bound  by  home-office  policy  or  blinded  by 

the  il    personal   prejudie  es. 

Thev  performed  theii  traditional  function, 
within  the  traditional  limits.  They  braved  the 
mob  thai  formed  lor  some  days  around  the  high 
school,  they  interviewed  die  principals  on  both 
sides  and  manv  ol  the  niinoi  characters,  they 
sketched  in  personalities  and  Idled  in  color,  and 
senile  at  least  tried  haul  to  define  the  feeling 
ol  the  community.  Over  a  peiiod  ol  weeks  they 
did  a  reasonably  ace  mate  job  ol  reporting  what 
happened  at  Little  Rock— but  as  Fleming  has 
said,  thev  have  failed  to  tell  why  it  happened. 


I   HE     UNFINISHED     STORY 

AX  1)  die  reason,  I  think,  is  that  to  Ameri- 
can journalism  the  Little  Rock  story  had 
an  arbitrary  beginning  and  end.  It  began  the 
day  Governor  Faubus  surrounded  Central  High 
Se  hool  with  his  state  guard.  It  continued  so  long 
as  there  was  a  naked  edge  of  violence.  It  ended 
when  federal  troops  restored  a  surface  order  to 
the  troubled  city.  It  has  had  subsequent  foot- 
neites  only  when  the  edge  ol  violence  re-emerged 
in  clashes  between  white  and  Negro  children 
inside  the  school.  It  survives  in  the  press  today 
largely  in  tin  soil  ol  occasional  oblique  reference 
that  passes  lor  background  ol  more  immediate 
news. 

Yet  it  is  epiitc  obviems  that  the  Little  Rock 
story  did  not  begin  in  September.  It  is  equally 
obvious  that  it  has  not  ended  yet.  For  Little 
Rock  was  simply  the  temporary  focus  ol  a  great, 
continuing,  and  unresolved  American  dilemma 
which  touches  upon  fundamental  concepts  ol 
morality,  ol  soc  ial  change,  and  of  law.  Journalism 
has  concentrated  on  only  the  exposed  portion  of 
die  iceberg;  the  great,  submerged  mass  remains 
uncharted. 

It  was,  admittedly,  an  extraordinarily  difficult 
story  to  handle.  A  journalist  is  trained  to  seek 
out  spokesmen  for  both  sides  in  any  controversy. 
They  were  readily  and  anxiously  available  in 
Little  Rock.  The  case  lor  resistance  to  the 
Federal  Court's  desegregation  order  was  made  at 
length  by  Governor  Faubus.  and  bolstered  by 
the  more  flamboyant  utterances  of  the  unabashed 
racists  in  the  Citizens'  Councils.  The  case  lor 
c  omphalic  e  was  made  by  the  loc  al  se  In >< >1  ollic  ials, 


Provocative . . .  outstanding . . . 


Here  are  some  of  today's  most  1  I  provocative  books- 

works  of  important  authors  of  our  Stt^jPsI  time.  These  are  hooks 
people  are  talking  about— critically  acclaimed  "outstanding"  in  history, 

sociology,  fiction  and  science.  Each  is  representative  of  the  typical 
selections  which  have  earned  The  Book  Find  Club  its  reputation 
for  "the  best  in  books."      H|  And  may  we  call  your  attention 

to  the  tremendous    W  savings  which  members  receive 

on  all  books— savings    WL    ?  K\      up  ^  50%  of  the  retail  price. 


u 


:«3*^ 


Choose  any  3  for  only  3. 95 

WITH  MEMBERSHIP  IN  THE  BOOK  FIND  CLUB 


It  is  probable  that  you  have  been  meaning  to  read  some  of  these  volumes 

but  just  haven't  gotten  around  to  it.  Now  . . .  for  only  $3.95,  you  can  have  your  choice 

of  any  3  of  the  books  shown  here  as  a  special  introductory  offer  to  The  Book  Find  Club. 

mber  of  The  Book  Find  Club  you  will  receive  Free  the  monthly  editions 

of  the  Book  Find  News,  containing  an  authoritative  review  of 

the  forthcoming  selection  and  other  interesting  and  informative  material 

about  the  many  titles  offered  to  members— all  at  special  membership  prices. 

And  with  each  fourth  book  you  purchase,  you  will  receive  the  current 

Bonus  Book,  adding  up  to  even  greater  savings. 

Start  your  membership  in  The  Book  Find  Club  with 

any  three  of  the  books  shown  here,  and 

assure  yourself  of  receiving  the  outstanding  books  of  1958. 


AMERICA    AS    A    CIVILIZATION. 
By  Max  Lerner.  A  brilliant  insight 
into  the  workings  of  America.  An 
examination  of  the  automatic  factory, 
public  relations,  steady  dating,  the 
split-level  home,  and  many  more 
aspects  of  the  growing  pains  of  a 
nation.  Pub.  at  $10.00. 

THE  TITANS.  By  Andre  Maurois. 
The  lives  of  the  Dumas— le  General, 
pere,   and   fils-span   a  century 
that  began  with  the  French 
Revolution   and   ended   at  the 
twilight  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
The  careers  of  these  men  were 
touched  with  tragedy  as  well  as 
triumph,  but  no  misfortunes  could 
diminish   the  vigor  of  their 
personalities  or  the  brilliance  of 
their  genius.  Pub.  at  $5.95. 

THE  AMERICAN  EARTHQUAKE. 

By  Edmund  Wilson.  A  Documentary 
of  the  Jazz  Age,  the  Great  Depression, 
and  the  New  Deal,  in  which 
Edmund  Wilson  recreates  one  of  the 
most  turbulent  and  interesting  periods 
of  our  history.  Pub.  at  $6.00. 

THE  POWER  ELITE.  By  C.  Wright 
mills.  A  thoughtful,  carefully 
documented  scrutiny  of  America's 
new  "top-drawer"  ruling  class,  the 
men  and  women  at  the  pinnacles 
of  fame  and  power  and  fortune. 
Pub.  at  $6.00. 

0T0;   LERNER   BY   HALSMAH 


MYTH  AND  GUILT.  By  Theodor  Rcik. 
A   foremost  psychoanalyst  explores 
the  crime  and  punishment  of  mankind 
and  probes  human  guilt-feelings. 
Pub.  at  $5.75. 

SIGMUND    FREUD,    VOL.    III. 
By  Ernest  Jones,  M.D.  In  this  final 
and   most   revealing  biography, 
Dr.  Jones  tells  the  story  of  Sigmund 
Freud's  life  and  work  during 
the  pinnacle  of  his  fame  and  in- 
tellectual development.  Pub.  at  $7.50. 
ATTORNEY  FOR  THE  DAMNED. 
A   portrait  of  Clarence   Darrow 
ill  his  own  words,  edited  by 
Arthur  Weinberg.  The  most  famous 
courtroom  addresses  from  one  of 
America's   greatest   lawyers   and 
humanitarians,  brought  together  for 
the  first  time.  Pub.  at  $6.50. 
THE  AMERICAN  PAST.  By  Roger 
Butter  field.  A  panorama  in  pictures 
and  words  of  the  entire  history  of 
the  United  States,  newly  revised 
and  updated  with  additional  text 
and  plates.  Pub.  at  $6.95. 
THE  SANDBURG  RANGE.  By  Carl 
Sandburg.  496  pages,  16  pages  of 
photographs,  portraits  and  caricatures, 
6!/s"  x  9<A".  A  single  volume  that 
presents  every  aspect  of  a  notable 
literary  career,  including  Sandburg  as 
poet,  biographer,  historian,  novelist 
and  storyteller  for  children. 
Pub.  at  $6.00. 


The  Book  Find  Club 


Fill  out  Coupon  and  Mail  Today 


THE   BOOK    FIND   CLUB  HA-6-58B 

215  FourtM  Ave.,  New  York  3,  N.  Y. 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  member  and  send  me,  for  only  $3.95 
plus  24<-  postage  and  handling,  the  three  books  I  have  chosen. 
[  am  to  receive  Free  the  monthly  Book  Find  News.  I  agree  to 
purchase  at  least  5  additional  books  during  my  first  year  of 
membership;  and  I  am  to  receive  a  Free  bonus  book  for  each 
lour  purchases.  I  may  cancel  my  membership  without  obligation 
at  any  time  after  accepting  five  selections. 

□  AMERICA  AS  A  CIVILIZATION         D  MYTH  AND  GUILT 


□  THE  TITANS 

□  THE  AMERICAN  EARTHQ.UAKE 

□  THE  POWER  ELITE 


□  SIGMUND   FREUD,  VOL.   Ill 

□  ATTORNEY  FOR  THE   DAMNED 

□  THE  AMERICAN  PAST 

□  THE  SANDBURG  RANGE 


NAME 


(please  print} 


ADDRESS 


cTTy  zone         STATE 

(Some  price  in  Canada'  Address   105  Bond  Si..  Toronlo  2,  Canada) 


;:::;?c^ 


11 


Investing  for  future  income? 

Incorporated 
Investors 


ESTABLISHED    1925 


A  mutual  fund  invested  in  a  list  of 
securities  selected  for  possible 
GROWTH  OF  CAPITAL  and  IN- 
COME in  the  years  ahead. 


Investing  for  current  income? 

I  nc  or  p  orate  cl 
Income  Fund 

A  mutual  fund  whose  first  objective 
is  to  return  as  LARGE  CURRENT 
INCOME  as  may  be  obtained  with- 
out undue  risk  of  principal. 


THE     EASY     (HAIR 


The  Parker  Corporation  h 

200  Berkeley  Street,  Boston  16.  Mass. 

Please  send  a  Prospectus  on 

□  Incorporated  Investors 

□  Incorporated  Income  Fund 

Name 

Address 

City 


MISSILE    SYSTEMS 

A   DIVISION    OF    LOCKHEED 
AIRCRAFT    CORPORATION 

SUNNYVALE     ■     PALO     ALTO     •     VAN     NUYS 
SANTA  CRUZ    ■    CALIFORNIA 
CAPE  CANAVERAL  ■    FLORIDA 
ALAMOGORDO  •    NEW  MEXICO 


J 


ENGINEERS 

AND 
SCIENTISTS 


Polaris,  Earth  Satellite.  X-7,  Q-5, 
X-17  and  other  top-priority  pro- 
grams at  Lockheed  Missile  Sys- 
tems insure  continued  progress  for 
you  with  an  acknowledged  leader 
in  missile  technology. 

Positions  of  responsibility  are 
open  in  all  areas  at  all  levels. 
Qualified  engineers  and  scientists 
are  invited  to  write  for  further 
information  to  Research  and 
Development  Staff,  Dept.  27-04, 
Sunnyvale   23,  California. 


the  mayoi  ol  the  city,  and    belatedly 

In  the  Presidenl  ol  the  United 
States,  with  somewhat  more  passion- 
ate arguments  [reel)  offered  l>\ 
spokesmen  foi  th(  National  Associa- 
tion lot  the  Advancement  <>l  Colored 
People. 

Bui  iliis  was  a  controversy  that 
had  three  sides.  Caught  between  the 
committed  and  dedicated  partisans 
w as  a  substantial  and  silent  mass  ol 
plain  ( itizens  ( onfused  .mil  deepl) 
disturbed.  The)  were  people  who 
deplored  desegregation  and  also  de 
plored  violence.  The)  It-It.  man)  ol 
them,  a  deep  compassion  foi  the  nine 
\>  gro  (  hildren  exposed  to  the  anger 
and  ( onii  mpi  ol  a  w  hite  mob.  Bui 
the)  also  felt  that  the  Negro  ( hildren 
should  not  be  attending  the  white 
s(  hool  in  the  fust  place.  The)  had 
been,  most  ol  them,  willing  to  under- 
take what  they  considered  the  un- 
pleasant ilun  that  had  been  required 
L\   the  i  out  ts. 

Bui  then,  at  the  last  moment,  their 
governoi  had  stepped  forward  and 
plot  laimed  that  what  they  had  a< 
cepted  as  the  law  was  without  sub- 
stance—and that  then  failure  to 
icsist  desegregation  amounted  to 
treason  to  their  own  traditions  and 
to  their  own  people. 

ll  is  Due  that  most  ol  those  who 
accepted  this  thesis  (and  the  ma- 
jority have,  to  some  degree)  did  so 
with  conscious  rationalization.  But 
it  is  also  true  that  when  emotion 
triumphed  over  reason  they  did  not 
actively  join  the  crusade  ol  the 
governor  and  the  Citizens'  Councils; 
rather  they  simpl)  subsided  into 
troubled  silence  and  by  so  doing 
withdrew  their  support  from  ihose 
few  who  attempted  to  stand  against 
the  tide.  And  because  they  wen 
silent,  t lie  i j  attitude  went  largel)  un- 
reported. The  piess  took  due  note 
ol  the  lae  (  that  in  fairl)  shot  t  order 
Governor  Faubus  was  in  command 
ol  the  held;  but  here  again  it  did  not 
explain  why— which  is  the  heart  ol 
the  stoi  \ . 

It  can  be  argued  that  these  matters 
are  too  subtle  for  the  proper  pra<  (ice 
ol  journalism— that  those  who  rode 
to  Little  Rock  as  though  it  were  a 
I  ou  i -a  la  i  m  fire  could  not  be  ex  pec  ted 
to  plumb  the  hidden  attitudes  of  the 
populace,  and  indeed  that  the-  effort 
to  do  so  would  represent  a  dangerous 
departure  from  proper  standards  of 
objectivity.     Pet  haps    so.     But    there 


were  othet  aspe<  ts  ol  the  Little  Rod 
stoi\  that  weie  equall)  vital  and  ■ 
no  means  so  elusive.  I  hen  was, 
<  onspii  uously,  the  failure  ol  leader- 
ship in  Washington  which  matched 
the  default  ol  Southei  n  leadership 
and  made  tin  ultimate  showdown 
between    slate   and    federal    lone    in- 

evitable. 


XI    W  S>      I    II  A   I 
DOESN  '  I      II   \  P  P  l    \ 

B  I  FO  K  1  pursuing  this  thesis  I 
should,  perhaps,  note  that  I  am  (to 
boiiow  Sam  Rayburn's  descriptij 
ol  himself)  a  Democrat  without  sn 
fix,  prefix,  oi  apology.  It  should  be 
noted  too  that  I  spent  ten  months  in 
the  wilderness  with  Adlai  Stevenson 
in  Plan,  when  the  Democratic  candi- 
date's eiies  on  ibis  subject,  along 
with  all  others,  were  largely  un- 
heeded. But,  making  all  due  allow- 
ance loi  m\  prejudice,  I  submit  that 
the  record  shows  that  from  May 
1954,  when  the  United  States  Su- 
preme  Court  reversed  the  old  Plessy 
doi  n  inc.  until  September  1057, 
when  the  chickens  finally  fluttered 
in  to  toost  in  Little  Rock,  the  Lisen- 
hower  Administration  took  no  af- 
firmative  action  to  pave  the  wa)  lor 
the  sweeping  legal  change  the  Con 
required  or  to  temper  the  inevitable 
dislocations  il  would  occasion.  In- 
deed, (he  incredible  fact  is  that 
the  Administration,  without  prelimi-j 
nary,  moved  directly  to  the  ultimate 
resort  ol  armed  force,  and  then  was 
confounded  by  its  own  belated 
audacity. 

It  required  no  delicate'  lingering 
ol  the  public  pulse  to  chart  the 
course  of  glowing  defiance  in  the 
South.  It  was  evident  in  violent  ut 
terances  by  souk  of  the  South'' 
public  men  and  in  the  silence  of 
others.  It  was  made  a  matter  ol 
record  in  the  passage  ol  a  varieB 
ol  restrictive  laws  in  the  Southea 
legislatures.  A  conspicuous  public 
monument  was  erected  in  Washing 
ion  when  one  hundred  Southed 
members  of  the  Senate  and  House 
signed  their  breast-beating  Manifest) 
in   the  spring  of    1956. 

Yet  Mr.  Eisenhower's  only  real 
tion  to  all  this  was  an  otcasiona 
bemused  puss  conference  state-men 
about  the  difficulties  of  (hanging  the 
minds  and  hearts  ol  men.  His  Ac! 
ministration,  it  is  true,  made   lokei 


THE  HERITAGE  ILLUSTRATED 


pveare 


ALL   THE   COMEDIES,    TRAGEDIES 
AND  HISTORIES   IN  THREE  BEAUTIFUL, 

beautiful  volumes 


AT  LONG  LAST... an  eminently  readable 

illustrated  edition  of  Shakespeare  that  seems 

certain  to  be  recognized  as 

one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  modern  times  — 

PRIZED  VOLUMES  THAT  CAN  BE  YOURS 

FOR  LESS  THAN  $4   EACH! 

IF  YOU  APPLY  for  membership  in  The  Heritage  Club  at  this 
j  time,  you  will  come  into  possession  of  the  Bard's  plays  in  an 

edition  that  is  a  delight  to  look  at  as  well  as  to  read!  It  is  beau- 
!  tifully  printed  in  large,  clear  type;  its  modern  text  is  completely 

free  of  archaic  spelling  and  punctuation;  all  the  speech-tags 
rare  spelled  out  (Hamlet  and  Horatio,  not  Ham.  and  Hor.). 

IIhe  illustrations  are  our  special  pride,  for  each  volume 
Bhas  been  illustrated  by  an  outstanding  artist  whose  individual 
(style  is  in  full  harmony  with  his  subject.  The  Comedies  are 
(illustrated  with  32  color  drawings  by  Edward  Ardizzone,  The 
tTragedies  with  powerful  wood-engravings  by  Agnes  Miller 
I  Parker,  and  The  Histories  with  color  engravings  by  John  Far- 
lleigh.  In  addition,  each  beautiful  6"  x  9Vi"  volume  has  been 

■  bound  in  a  richly  decorated  three-piece  binding  and  is  enclosed 

■  in  a  handsome  slipcase. 

II HIS  SHAKESPEARE  can  be  yours  as  part  of  your  subscription 
I  to  The  Heritage  Club's  Twenty-third  Series.  Some  of  the  other 
■J titles  to  be  issued  in  this  new  Series  are:  Poe's  Tales  of  Mystery 
wind  Imagination,  with  illustrations  by  William  Sharp;  The 
WMysterioi/s  Island  by  Jules  Verne,  illustrated  with  colored 
Ijravures  by  Edward  A.  Wilson;  Mark  Twain's  Life  on  the 
^Mississippi,  illustrated  by  Thomas  Hart  Benton.  And  Dante's 
llDniwe  Comedy  with  engravings  by  William  Blake! 

1 H  ese  BOOKS  are  indeed  a  bargain.  In  spite  of  today's  spiraling 
|:osts,  the  books  of  The  Heritage  Club  STILL  cost  the  members 
I  no  more  than  they  would  pay  for  an  ordinary  novel  that  is 
I  read  once  and  never  looked  at  again:  $3.95  for  each  book, 
■pr  even  as  low  as  $3.45  if  the  books  are  paid  for  in  advance! 
I  \ct  now  —  write  TODAY  for  the  free  Prospectus. 


1 


/      J  As  your  gift-upon- 

/~rtf&/y  joining,  you  may  have 
A.  /  /  t/t/  either  The  Adventures 
^^  of  Sherlock  Holmes  by 

Sir  Arthur  Conan  Doyle,  with  orig- 
inal illustrations  by  Frederic  Dorr 
Steele,  Sidney  Paget,  and  others;  or 
Peer  Gynt  by  Henrik  Ibsen,  illus- 
trated with  imaginative  paintings 
by  the  Norwegian  artist  Per  Krohg. 


CMaii for free  prospectus 


THE   HERITAGE  CLUB 

595  MADISON  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK  22. 
Send  me,  without  obligation,  a  copy  of  the  new  Pros- 
pectus describing  the  books  to  be  issued  in  the  Twenty- 
third  Series,  including  the  three-volume  Shakespeare. 
You  are  to  hold  open  a  place  in  your  membership 
pending  my  decision,  and  if  I  become  a  member  I  will 
be  entitled  to  a  copy  of  either  The  Adventures  of 
Sherlock  Holmes  or  Peer  Gynt,  without  cost. 


(CITY  &  STATE) 


1G 


THE     I    V  s\      (HAIR 


efforts  to  pass  stringent  civil-rights 
legislation— which  onl)  served  to 
l.K  erate  the  Southei  ners  in  ( longress 
and  <  n  i.unly  had  an  adverse  effei  i 
upon  their  minds,  hearts,  and 
spleens.  And,  ol  course,  Vice  Presi- 
dent Nixon,  in  the  days  before  he 
sheathed  his  hatchet,  joined  other 
Administration  spokesmen  in  m.ik 
ing  propei  ob<  isan<  e  to  theii  party's 
Abolitionist  tradition  when  cam- 
paigning in  those  areas  where  the 
Negro  vote  is  heavy. 

Hut  at  no  time  did  Mr.  Eisen 
1  lower  attempt  to  use  the  moral  Eorce 
of  his  office  to  persuade  Southerners 
ol  the  justice  ol  the  course  the  Su- 
preme Court  required  ol  them,  or 
his  great  personal  prestige  in  the 
region  to  allay  their  tears  thai  the\ 
were  being  forced  into  a  revolution- 
,n\  rathei  than  an  evolutionary 
course.  Nor  did  lie  employ  i In  \.ist 
political  powers  ol  his  office  to  ne- 
gotiate with  the  recalcitrant  South- 
ern political  Leaders  from  a  position 
ol  strength. 

I  am  not  one  who  supports  with- 
out reservation  the  thesis  that  the 
Republican  allegiance  ol  most  ol  the 
proprietors  of  the  pi  ess  has  been 
translated  into  a  conspiracy  to  wrap 
Mr.  Eisenhower  in  bunting  and  pro- 
tect him  against  criticism.  I  do  not 
believe  that  this  was  a  primary  cause 
of  the  conspicuous  failure  ol  the 
press  to  take  due  note  ol  the  troubles 
that  were  shaping  up  in  the  South, 
and  ol  the  Administration's  appar- 
ent unawareness.  1  suspect  that  it 
stems  rather  from  the  limiting  jour- 
nalistic axiom  that  what  happens  is 
news,  and  what  doesn't  isn't. 

Thus  the  reporters  rode  into  the 
legion  only  when  there  was  ac- 
tion—when a  couple  ol  red-necked 
hoodlums  in  backwoods  Mississippi 
dropped  Emmett  Till  into  a  river, 
or  a  mob  ruled  that  Autherine  Lucy 
couldn't  attend  the  University  ol 
Alabama,  or  John  Kasper  incited 
the  citizens  of  Clinton  to  wrath.  In 
between,  an  occasional  reporter, 
usually  from  one  of  the  magazines, 
toured  the  region— but  these  too 
often  caught  only  the  sound  and  the 
fury  on  the  surface.  A  notable  ex- 
ample was  the  series  in  the  Saturday 
Evening  Post  last  summer,  "The 
Deep  South  Says  'Never!' '  The 
author,  John  Bartlow  Martin,  is  a 
competent  and  conscientious  practi- 
tioner,  but    his   pieces   were    largely 


distilled  from  the  utterances  ol  the 
extremists  without  qualifying  bal- 
ance. The  certainly  unintentional  re- 
sult was  to  oi\i  national  e  leeLiie  e  to 
ilit-  contention  ol  the  Councilmen 
that  i lit  \  spoke  lor  the  whole  ol  the 
Southern  people,  and  the  Council 
leaders  themselves  regarded  the-  Post 
seiies  as  invaluable  propaganda  in 
their  <  ampaign  to  enfon  e  the  doe  - 
trim  ol  brute  resistance  upon  the 
silent  majority.  But  the  othei  and 
equally  essential  part  ol  the  story 
the  eh  ih  in  Washington  went 
largely  unnoticed  except  In  a  lew 
periphci  al  <  i  itie  s  who  address  a 
limited  audienc  e. 

T  H  E     I'  o  I.  I   I  IC  AL     n  I    \  I. 

IF  Till-,  reporting  ol  the  prelude 
to  Little  Rock  was  conspicuously  in- 
adequate, it  see  ins  to  me  that  the 
postlude  provides  an  even  more  dis- 
tiessinu  example.  I  he  stirring  mar- 
tial events  ol  September  were,  it  is 
true,  somewhat  confusing— particu- 
larly when  President  Eisenhower  and 
Governor  Faubus  held  their  historic 
peace  conference  at  Newport  and 
there  remained  some  doubt  as  to 
who  emerged  with  whose  sword.  Out 
of  the  communiques  issued  by  the 
White  House  on  this  occasion,  how 
ever,  and  the  later  meeting  with 
e  n\o\s  from  the  Southern  Governors' 
Conference,  there  emerged  an  as- 
sumption that  the  executive  depart- 
ment ol  the  federal  government  was 
prepared  to  back  to  the  utmost  tin 
orders  ol   the  federal  judiciary. 

This  notion  was  reinforced  by  the 
arrival  of  the  101  st  Airborne  Infan- 
try, and  by  the  presence  in  Little 
Rock  ol  so  many  FBI  agents  they 
created  a  problem  of  hotel  accom- 
modations. Indeed,  there  was  public 
and  official  talk  ol  a  vast  document 
compiled  by  the  FBI,  at  the  direc- 
tion of  the  United  States  Attorney 
General,  presumably  in  preparation 
for  court  action  against  those  who 
were  clearly  defying  the  injunctions 
of  a  federal  judge.  During  those  fall 
days  the  embattled  Little  Rock 
School  Hoard— under  fire  from  the 
state  government  lor  carrying  out 
the  judge's  order  and  deserted  by  a 
city  administration  intimidated  by 
a  show  of  political  strength  by  the 
Citizens'  Council— waited  lor  the 
federals  to  ride  to  their  aid.  All  they 
got,  as  it  turned  out,  was  withdrawal 


ol  the  regulars  ol  the  llilst  and  a 
perfunctory  detail  ol  federalized  na- 
iion.il  guardsmen,  nuclei  orders  to 
observe  but  not  to  arrest  an\  male- 
lac  101  ^  within  the  sc  hool. 

It  soon  became  apparent  thai  this 
was  |, u  liom  enough  to  preserve  am 
semblance  e>l  order.  The  mob  which 
one  c  e  aim  close  to  Ion  ing  entry  into 
the  sehoeil  did  not  re-form,  ii  is  true, 
but  it  didn't  need  to.  A  lai  saler 
c  oui  sc  was  Id  inspiic-  a  small  group 
ol  white-  siuelents  to  undertake  a 
campaign  e>l  harassment  against  the 
isolated  Negroes.  And  as  it  he-came 
apparent  thai  Washington  had  done 
all  it  was  ^ < > i i i d  to  do,  the  Citizen 
Councils  became-  boldei  and  holder 
in  their  campaign  ol  intimidation, 
c  ot  le  ion,  and  boycott  direc  ted  again! 
any  who  dared  dissent  liom  the-  de- 
hant  e  out  sc-  they  had  e  I i.i i  ted.  I  he- 
campaign  bore  tangible  fruit  in  the 
expulsion  ol  one  ol  the  nine  Negro 
children  who  had  responded  in  kind 
lo  calculated  mistreatment— an  event 
greeted  by  the-  appearance  ol  cards 
on  the  lapels  ol  the-  student  activists 
bearing  the  cogent  notice:  "One 
down— eight  to  go." 

Here  again,  in  spasmodic,  unco- 
ordinated  fashion  the  surface  of 
these  events  has  been  recorded  by 
(he  piess.  But  the-  othei  and  more 
significant  portion  of  the  storv  has 
attracted  little  attention.  In  Wash-' 
ington,  the  decision  to  leave  to  the 
Little  Rock  School  Board  the  entire, 
burden  of  carrying  out  the  court- 
order  against  impossible  odds  has' 
never  been  officially  announced,  but 
has  been  clearly  acknowledged  by 
the  Department  of  Justice.  The^ 
new  Attorney  General,  William  P. 
Rogers,  said  that  there  were  no 
present  plans  for  further  legal  a<  t ion 
in  Little  Rock.  He  further  notedij 
that  the  Administration  would  not 
puss  lor  additional  civil-rights  legis- 
lation at  this  session  of  Congress— a 
matter  of  some  moment  since  the 
Justice  Department  had  previously 
used  as  an  excuse  lor  inaction  at 
Little-  Rock  the  failure  of  the-  en- 
forcement provisions  in  the  last  civil- 
rights  bill. 

These  pronouncements  were  I  ol 
lowed  b\  one-  of  the  most  remarkable- 
scenes  enacted  on  Capitol  Hill  since 
the  passage  of  the  Missouri  Com- 
promise. Mr.  Rogers  appeared  be- 
fore the  Senate  Judiciary  Committee 
to  be  interrogated  as  to  his  fitness  as 


ow  SCIENCE  and  HISTORY— the  fields  most  young  people  want  to  know  about  — 
are  both  covered  in  this  sensible  plan  . . . 


THE  RAND  McNALLY  "WORLD-MASTER"  GLOBE 
and  THE  GILBERT  MICROSCOPE  KIT 

A  GILBERT  HALL  OF  SCIENCE  PRODUCT 


Both  Given 


TO  YOUR  CHILD 


WITH  A  FOUR-MONTH  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION 

Youup  Readers  of  America 

A  BOOK  CLUB  FOR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS  (FROM  8  TO  14)       , 

under  the  direction  of  Book-of-the-Month  Club,  Inc 


CHILDREN  WHO   LOVE  TO  READ 
DO   BETTER  IN  SCHOOL 


Parents      frequently 

overlook    this    obvious 

truth,  even  when  they 

are     most     concerned 

children's    progress.    To 

hourage— without  pressure — a  natu- 

love  of  reading  is  the  sound  educa- 

pal    principle    behind    the    Young 

Uders    of    America    plan.    It    pro- 


vides—at regular  intervals,  which 
extremely  important  —  authoritative 
books  that  are,  above  all,  fun  to  read. 
As  many  educators  point  out,  children 
who-  learn  to  love  books  in  this  way 
usually  make  the  best  and  most  inter- 
ested students.  And,  of  course,  the 
"library-building"  habit  acquired  in 
childhood  will  benefit  them  always. 


DISCOVER  NATURE'S  SECRETS  WITH  .  .  . 

•  60-power  microscope   (with    manual) 

•  Glass  slides 

•  Other  equipment 


YOU  MAY  CHOOSE  EITHER  OF  THESE  GROUPS  . 
OR  SUBSCRIBE  TO  BOTH  AT  A  10%  DISCOUNT 


)  THE  ALLABOUT  BOOKS 

comprehensive  books  about 
iNCE.  Says  The  'New  Jork  Jimes: 
ley  have  won  an  enthusiastic  audi- 
e  among  fact-hungry  young  people. 
.  Lively  and  informal  in  style,  but 
superficial."  Each  of  these  volumes 
iom  dinosaurs  and  astronomy  to 
ns  and  sputniks — is  written  by  an 
nently  qualified  science  writer  and 
ccurately  and  profusely  illustrated. 


3|c  A  FOUR-MONTH  TRIAL  SUBSCRIPTION  is  suggested, 
in  order  to  see  how  your  own  young  reader  responds  to  the 
idea.  To  excite  and  inspire  him  immediately,  he  will  receive, 
free,  the  enrollment  gifts  pictured  above.  With  them  he  will 
receive  the  Allabout  or  Landmark  book  you  select  as 
the  first  purchase  from  the  two  listed  below.  Also  included 
will  be  fifty  handsome  bookplates  to  encourage  him  to  build 
his  own  library.  At  the  end  of  the  trial  subscription,  if  you 
do  not  feel  that  the  plan  is  succeeding  with  your  child,  you 
are  free  to  cancel  at  any  time. 

>|c  THE  SYSTEM  IS  SIMPLE  -  each  month  your  child  will 
receive  a  book  addressed  to  him  personally,  always  an  excit- 
ing moment  in  any  home.  The  price  to   subscribers,  lower 

the  attention  of  tens  of  thousands  of    than  the  regular  retail  price,  is  only  $1.75  each,  plus  a  small 

young  people"  (7v.  J.  Times).  These    charge  for  mailing. 

remarkable  books  are  written  by  out-  ^  |p  YOU  DECIDE  to  subscribe  to  both  series  (one  All- 
about and  one  Landmark  book  each  month)  you  will  receine 
a  discount  of  10%,  making  the  special  combined  price  $3.15, 
plus  the  postage  and  handling  charge.  In  this  case,  check 
both  the  Allabout  and  Landmark  books  pictured  in  the 
coupon,  as  your  first  purchase. 


(2)  THE  LANDMARK  BOOKS 

about    American    and    world    history 
"have  fired  the  imaginations  and  held 


standing  authors  whose  reputations 
were  made  in  the  field  of  serious  adult 
writing— authors  like  John  Gunther, 
Pearl  Buck,  Thomas  B.  Costain,  John 
Mason  Brown  and  many  others. 


0  GIVEN...SO  BOOKPLATES 


OTE  ABOUT  BIRTHDAYS 

ou  wish  the  subscription  to 
l  as  a  birthday  surprise  dur- 
the  next  30  days,  simply 
k  the  box  on  the  coupon, 
enrollment  gifts  and  the  first 
hase  will  be  sent  in  packages 
ily    labeled    "Do    not    open 

your  birthday."  Enclosed 
be  a  card  naming  you  as 
lonor.  Please  allow  ten   days 

of  the  Mississippi)  and 
weeks  (west  of  the  Missis- 
)   for  delivery. 

.'mark  of  Book-of-the- Month  Club.  Inc 


BEGIN  WITH  ONE  OF  THESE— OR  BOTH 


□  ALL  ABOUT 
ROCKETS 


New    York   14,  N.  Y. 


Book-of-the-Month  Club,   Inc.,  345  Hudson  St., 
YOUNG  READERS  OF  AMERICA*  Branch 

Please  enroll  the  child  named  below  in  a  four-month  trial  subscription  to  Yownc 
Readers  of  America  and  send  him  free  the  RAND  McNALLY  ■•WORLD-MASTER" 
GLOBE  and  the  GILBERT  MICROSCOPE  KIT  with  the  purchase  of  the  first 
bookfs)    indicated.     You    are    to   send    the    etiild: 


□    one*  ALLAE 
charge  for 


nail  chni 


arge  for  postajr 

□   one    ALLABOUT 
$3.15    (plus  a  s 

I  may  cancel  the  membership  at  any  tim 
child.  As  the  child's  first  purchase  pi 
checked   at   the  left.    (For  combination   sub 

Information    requested   on   th 
parent   or   donor 


(plus  a  small 
51.75    (plus    a 


ach    month    and    bill    me   at 
and  handling)   for  each  book. 

LANDMARK    each    month     and    bill    me    at     \   3 
re  for  postage  and  handling).  ' 

n,i    buying  four  books  for  ttie 
?    send    the    book     (or    books) 
ption  check  both    books.) 
order    should  be    filled    in  by 
PLEASE    PRINT 


NAME    OF    CHILD 


Street. 
City.  . 


ORDERED  BY  Mrs. 


NAME    OF   PARENT  OR   DONOR 


City 

□ 


IF    YOU     WANT    THIS    AS     A     BIRTHDAY     GIFT     DURING    THE     NEXT    30 
DAYS,     CHECK     HERE.    ALLOW    AT    LEAST   TWO    WEEKS    FOR    DELIVERY 

YR-25 


THE     1   ASY     CHAIR 


See  13,000  miles  of  the  world  from 
the  deck  of  a  fine  passenger  liner! 

From  Japan  and  Hong  Kong  to  Rio  and 

Buenos  Aires,  wifh  Singapore,  Mauritius,  Capetown 

and  many  other  fascinating  ports  in  between. 

57  days  of  relaxation  and  enjoyment,  seeing  new  places  and  new 
faces  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe.  The  flawless  service,  and 
cuisine,  the  modern  comforts,  the  unexcelled  seamanship  <rfa  fine 
Dutch  ship  are  your  assurance  of  a  successful  voyage. 

Include  a  side  trip  to  fascinating  Bali 
2fc     SEE  YOUR  TRAVEL  AGENT. 

kd&   ROYAL 

*%  Interocean 

LINES 

29  Broadway.  New  York 
Holland-America  Line  offices  in  principal 
cities  of  the  U.  S.  and  Canada 


FOR  MORE  VACATION  FUN 

^  GIMLET 

29  IK.  TRAVEl-WISE  TRAVELERS  GUIDE 

Dept.  20-H,  745-5th  Ave.,  N.Y.C.  22. 

Typical  Hotels  Recommended  &  Described 


Spring  Lake  Beach,  N.J 
THE   ESSEX 
AND   SUSSEX 
A   resort  world   in   it- 
self,   under   the   man- 
agement   of    Fred    L. 
Abel   of   the   Seaview 
at   Miami    Beach.    Sit- 
uated directly  on  the 
ocean    with    its    own 
private      beach,      the 
ESSEX  and  SUSSEX  is 
a    massive    resort 
property  accommo- 
dating 400.  Conven- 
ient   to    MONMOUTH 
PARK   racetrack.   Ten- 
nis   Courts,    Putting 
Green    on    premises. 
Golf    Club    few    min- 
utes    away.     Famous 
Essex    Lounge   for 
cocktails  and  dancing. 
Formal  and  casual 
dance    nights    in    the 
ballroom.  Sixty  miles 
from      NYC      off     the 
Garden     State     Park- 
way    (exit    96).    Late 
June    to    early    Sept. 
Am.  plan 


Attorney   General,   received   cordial 
greetings,  and  was  recommended  Eoi 
confirmation  without  a  single  ques 
tion  being  addressed  to  him  regard- 
ing his  past  oi   future  course  in  the 
Little  Rock  case-and  this  before  a 
committee    that    counts    anion-    its 
members  senators  James  Eastland  ol 
Mississippi    and    Olin    Johnston    of 
South   Carolina.    This    singula,    oc- 
currence was  accorded  no  more  than 
passing   mention    in    the    press    and 
no  one  of  consequence  speculated  in 
print  or  on  a  television  tube  as   to 
the  dimensions  ol   what   must    have 
been  one  ol  the  most  singular  politi- 
cal deals  in  recent  years. 

TIME    FOR     W  II  AT  ''. 


Nassau,    Bahamas 
BALMORAL     CLUB 
NOW     OPEN     ALL 
YEAR.    With     its     pri- 
vate   ocean    beaches, 
its     unsurpassed     res- 
taurant,   "Ocean    Pa- 
tio"    on     the     beach 
and  its  delightful  ac- 
commodations   to 
meet      everyone's 
taste,      this      fashion- 
able   Colony    of    Bal- 
moral   Club    offers    a 
perfect       setting       for 
gracious    and    luxuri- 
ous    living.      Fishing, 
sailing,    water    skiing 
and    unparalleled 
swimming    and    other 
sports  (at  your  door). 
You  may  have  a  bed- 
room -  bathroom     sit- 
ting-room     suite,      or 
private       bedroom- 
bathroom      (European 
or  Modified  American 
Plan)     or     an     entire 
house     to     accommo- 
date  five   or   six   per- 
sons   on     the    house- 
keeping basis,   if  you 
prefer.    Low    Summer 
Rates.  See  your  Travel 
Agent     or      write     or 
cable     direct    to    Bal- 
moral   Cub,    Nassau, 
Bahamas 


JUST  as  the  Little  Rock  story  did 
not  begin  in  Little  Rock,  it  will  not 
end    there-whatever    the    ultimate 
fate   ol    the'   eight   children    still    re- 
maining   in    the    beleaguered    high 
school  at  this  writing.    These  events 
have  already  had  tragic  consequences 
in    Arkansas   and    the   South;    those 
who   were   disposed    to   support   an 
orderly  adjustment  to  the  new  public 
policy  have  been  discredited  and  dis- 
armed-not  alone  by  the  extremists 
who  are  now  in  control,  but  by  a 
national    Administration    which   de- 
serted them  in  the  first  collision  be- 
tween   federal    and    state    force    and 
declared   in  effect   that   the  rule  of 
law  propounded  by  its  own  courts  is 
not  enforceable.  And  so,  by  default, 
what  began  as  a  local  issue  has  been 
built  into  a  national  constitutional 

crisis. 

And  it  is  no  less  than  that-per- 
haps  the  most  critical  the  nation  has 
faced  since   1860.    I  do   not  suggest 
that  civil  war  is  imminent,  because 
of  course  it  isn't.    I  do  say  that  the 
drift  in  Washington  has  gravely  com- 
pounded the  dislocations  that  were 
made  inevitable  by  the  historical  de- 
velopments affirmed  by  the  Supreme 
Court  in  1954,  and  has  left  the  coun- 
try  sharply   divided   on    a   complex 
moral  and  social  issue  at  a  time  when 
national  unity  could  be  the  price  of 
national  survival. 

There  are  many  who  share  the 
blame  There  is  reason  to  wonder 
if  our  system  of  education  has  served 
us  adequately  when  in  its  ultimate 
flowering  it  has  produced  a  genera- 
tion, North  and  South,  that  appears 
not  only  unable  to  grasp  the  imph- 


bii 


cations  ol  the  race  problem  but  un- 
willing to  lace  it  squarely.    1   have 
said  ol    the  South   that   its   besetting 
problem  is  not   the  accommodation 
of  the  rising  aspirations  ol  its  Negro 
people,  difficult  as  that  may  be,  but 
its  inability    to   reduce   the   issue   I 
rational  terms.    In  slightly   differ* 
context,    the   same    thing    is    true  ol 
the  non-South-called  upon   now  to 
translate    its    pious    principles    into 
action   and   blinking   painfully  over 
the  mote  in  its  own  eye. 

BUT  my  concern  is  with  journal 
ism.  No  one  can  say  with  certainty 
that  the  course  of  events  in  the* 
South  could  have  been  altered  ha 
the  President  exercised  firm  leader 
ship-or  that  Mr.  Eisenhower  woult 
have  been  disposed  to  act  ever 
if  the  alarm  had  been  soundet 
by  those  who  are  supposed  to  max 
the  watchtowers  of  public  affairs 
And  now,  after  the  fact,  this  is  pei 
haps  not  of  consuming  importance 
But  the  watchtowers  remain  larger 
silent  still,  and  1  suggest  that  this  < 
a  matter  of  pressing  concern. 

For  it  seems  to  me  that  the  Amer 
can  people  are  still  not  aware  o 
what  Little  Rock  really  demoi 
strated-the  shocking  fact  that  nc 
only  did  the  Administration  have  n 
plan  to  meet  the  crisis  at  Little  Roc 
when  it  came,  but  even  now,  wi 
all  the  bitter  lessons  before  it,  sti 
has  charted  no  effective  course  < 
action  nor  displayed  any  dispositio 

to  do  so. 

I  am  the  first  to  argue  that  time 
of  the  essence  in  any  resolution 
the  problem.   In  so  delicate  an  art 
of  human  relations  change  must  1 
evolutionary.    Yet  time  is  of  vah 
only   if  it  is  put  to  some  pracf 
use;  perhaps  the  most  cogent  sin 
question  yet  raised  was  that  put 
Francis   Pickens   Miller   of   Vtrgi 
to  a  group  of  Southerners  who  at 
national    conference   were    pleadi 
for  a  breathing  spell. 

What,  he  asked,  did  they  propc 
to  do  with  it? 

It  is  clear  that  the  Southe 
leadership  has  no  program  and 
policy  except  the  negative  one 
delay  at  any  price-and  part  of  tl 
price  will  be  a  steady  detenorat. 
of  race  relations  across  the  whole 
the  nation,  with  a  corollary  imp 
of  great  significance  on  our  sagg 
foreign  policy.    In   the  lace  of  tl 


19 


THE     EASY     CHAIR 

he  Administration  has  offered  noth- 
ing   except    the    politician's    usual 

levice  for  postponing  unpleasant  de- 

isions— the  creation  of  a  study  com- 
hission,  which,  if  it  does  not  founder 

n  its  partisan  division,  at  some  dis- 
Lnt  date  presumably  will  come  up 

dth  the  facts  the  press  should  have 

een  setting  forth  all  along. 
{  These  then  are  some  of  the  aspects 

f  the  Little  Rock  story  which  seem 
n  me  to  be  largely  unrecognized  or 
fenerally  misunderstood  despite  the 
liillions  of  words  that  have  adorned 
lie  front  pages  and  boomed  through 
ire  loudspeakers.  I  suppose  that  a 
flatient  man  with  endless  time  on  his 
lands  might  have  put  together  the 

irid  fragments  that  were  hurled  at 
Bim  and  divined  their  meaning— but 
leaders  and  listeners  are  usually  both 
Impatient  and  busy.  It  remains, 
lien,  journalism's  unfulfilled  respon- 
I  bility  to  somehow  provide  perspec- 
Ive  and  continuity— to  add  the  why 
I-  the  what. 


OW  can  it  be  done,  in  the  face 
the  real,  and  in  many  ways  grow- 
g,  limitations  of  time  and  space 
at  beset  all  of  us  who  live  by  the 
ock?  I  will  confess  that  I  have  no 
ady  answers.  But  I  do  know  the 
sk  is  urgent  and  steadily  becoming 
ore  so. 

And  I  think  perhaps  it  begins  with 
cognition  that  this  is  so— and  that, 
lid  as  they  may  be,  the  excuses  we 
;wspapermen  have  made  to  our- 
Ives  in  private,  and  the  proud 
>asts  of  rectitude  our  promotion 
anagers  commonly  make  in  public, 
e  no  longer  good  enough.  I  think 
;  have  got  to  get  over  the  notion 
at  objectivity  is  achieved  by  giving 
sinner  equal  space  with  a  saint— 
d  above  all  of  paying  the  greatest 
tention  to  those  who  shout  the 
udest.  We've  got  to  learn  that  a 
of  indisputable  facts  does  not 
cessarily  add  up  to  the  whole 
ith. 

Perhaps  what  we  need  most  of  all 
simply  the  courage  of  our  own 
nvictions— to  recognize  that  news  is 
t  merely  a  record  of  ascertainable 
:ts  and  attributable  opinions,  but 
chronicle  of  the  world  we  live  in 
it  in  terms  of  moral  values.  We 
u  err,  certainly,  and  we  will  be 
used— but  we  will  at  least  be  in 
sition  in  the  watchtowers,  trying  to 
1  the  story  in  all  its  dimensions. 


"Know  Anything  Good  in  the  Market?" 

Sure  we  do.  Lots  of  things.  Lots  of  good  common  stocks. 

But  what  do  you  mean — "good"? 

Good  for  what? 

Good  for  an  older  couple  planning  a  retirement  program? 
Good  for  younger  people  with  an  unexpected  inheritance  ?  Good 
for  a  widow?  Good  for  a  successful  doctor?  Or  good  for  a  lawyer 
just  reaching  his  prime? 

Remember:  a  good  investment  for  one  may  not  be  for  another. 
Every  situation  is  different,  and  each  needs  an  investment  pro- 
gram tailored  to  fit. 

If  you're  not  sure  that  what  you're  doing  with  your  money 
is  the  best  thing  possible,  why  not  check  with  our  Research 
Department  and  get  their  unbiased  counsel? 

It  won't  cost  you  a  penny,  and  you  won't  obligate  yourself  in 
any  way.  It  doesn't  matter  whether  you've  got  a  little  money  or  a 
lot,  whether  you  own  securities  or  don't.  But  the  more  you  tell  us 
about  your  complete  situation,  the  more  helpful  you'll  find  our 
answer. 

Just  write — in  complete  confidence  of  course — to 
Allan  D.  Gulliver,    Department  SW-65 

Merrill  Lynch,  Pierce,  Fenner  &  Smith 

Members  New  York  Stock  Exchange  and  all  other  Principal  Exchanges 

70  Pine  Street,  New  York  5,  N.  Y. 

Offices  in  112  Cities 


. .  .with  Railway  Thrift  Coupons 


Haven't  you  heard?  Dollars  spent  here  buy  British  Rail- 
ways tickets  at  a  discount!  Buy  Thrift  Coupons  .  .  .  1,000 
miles  of  go-as-you-please  rail  travel  for  $21  (2nd  class) 
.  .  .  $31.50  (first  class).  Valid  for  six  months.  Also  good 
for  Irish  cross-channel  and  MacBrayne's  steamers.  Addi- 
tional mileage  at  commensurate  savings.  Bvy  Thrift  Cou- 
pons from  your  travel  agent  before  you  leave.  Not 
sold  overseas. 


BRITISH    RAILWAY? 


OFFICES  IN   NEW  YORK  •  CHICAGO  •   LOS  ANGELES  •  TORONTO 
Want  "planning  literature"?  Write  British  Railways,  9  Rockefeller  Plaza,  New  York  20,  N.  Y.,  Dept.  F8-6 


riiilXiSOJNIAJL  and  otherwise 


Among   Our  Contributor* 


L  I  1    1    LIN  I 

Tl  I  1  Nutrition  Laboratoi )  ol 
,\  .lit  I  fniversit)  oc<  upies  a  few 
well-worn  rooms  on  the  third  llooi 
ol  tin  Merlin"  1  I. ill  ol  Medi<  in< .  B) 
the  windows  in  a  plainl)  Furnished 
conference  room,  Dr.  Willi. mi  11. 
Adolph,  Lecturei  in  Nutrition  and 
Publi(  Health,  has  a  l>i<>ad  desk. 
som(  boxes  ol  slides,  a  Eew  files  and 
hooks  lone  ol  them  Ins  own  chemis- 
i)  \  textbook  in  a  Chinese  edition  i. 
Dr.  Adolph  is  a  good  looking  tall 
spare  gra)  haired  man  with  a  gentle 
manner,  modest  answers,  and  an  odd 
assortment  ol  tastes  onl)  some  ol 
which  appear  in  his  article,  lash 
ions   in   hood"  (p.  57). 

Since  most  ol  his  hooks  and  papers 
stayed  behind  in  his  office  in  the 
Peking  Union  Medical  College  in 
1951  when  he  lelt  Communisl 
China,  he  now  collects  materials  for 
writing  l>\  simply  dropping  piquant 
items  into  the  proper  folder  from 
time  to  time.  When  it  is  fat  enough, 
he  takes  them  out  to  work  over.  Ih 
spent  the  hcttei  pari  ol  thirty-five 
years  teaching  in  China,  and  his 
lour  children  were  born  there  but 
came  home  lor  college.  Traveling 
light,  he  and  his  wile  transplanted 
themselves  to  the  American  Univer- 
sity in  Beirut  lor  another  three  years 
before  coming  to  settle  at   Yale. 

Dr.  Adolph  has  published  some 
hundred  papers,  mainh  on  nutri- 
tional metabolism,  and  he  continues 
to  be  interested  in  the  digestive 
processes  ol  the  rats  in  tiers  ol  cages 
in  the  air-conditioned  laboratory  ad- 
joining his  stmh.  But  his  works  in 
pi  ogress  range  outside. 

One  project  is  to  record  his  recol- 
lections ol  "The  hast  Frontier"  — 
the  conquest  by  Western  science  of 
the  Oriental  mind,  which  began 
about  fifty  years  ago  when  China 
opened  the  door  to  Western  teachers. 
When  Dr.  Adolph  went  to  Cheeloo 
Universit)  right  alter  getting  his 
Ph.D.  at  Pennsylvania   in    I'M"),   the 


hardest  job  was  to  nv  to  change  the 
mental  habits  ol  students  whose 
whole  education  had  been  rote  learn- 
ing and  to  persuade  them  to  do 
things  with  then  hands.  (Dr<  Adolph 
makes  his  own  slides  loi  illustrating 
lee  tines  ioda\  t\  ping  the  in  hinisell 
and  drawing  fine  little  rats  to  throw 
on  the  s(  re<  n.)  I  le  reads  and  spe  aks 
Chinese,  and  he  feels  his  best  work 
was  helping  students-who  were  writ- 
ing theii  theses  in  English. 
"That's  te.u  hing!" 
\  second  project  is  one  on  which 
he  has  been  collecting  items  lor 
years:  over-nutrition— a  disease  to 
which  Americans  still  hav<  exclu- 
sive world  lights.  Dr.  and  Mis. 
Adolph  were  interned  l>\  the  Japa- 
nese during  World  Wai  II  he  was 
then  Professor  ol  Biochemistry  at 
Yenching  University— and  the)  wen 
among  the  huk\  minorit)  to  be 
brought  home  on  the  Gripsholm  in 
1943.     It    was   the   husk\    stevedores 

who  met  the  boat  at  San  I  l  .i  nc  isco. 
compared  with  the  emaciated  Chi- 
nese coolies  who  had  loaded  it.  that 
dramatized  foi  him  the  difference 
between  the  I  Inited  States  and  the 
( )i  ient.  "No  c  lass  in  Aineric  a  is 
underfed,"  he  sa\s.  Ye.ns  later  when 
he  lee  lined  in  the-  Xeai  hast  on 
over-nutrition,  a  smile  would  go 
round  the  class  at  such  a  problem. 

I  here  are  a  few  ovei  led  rats  - 
gorged  on  coconut  oil  and  peanuts— 
in  the  lab  next  door.  Di.  Adolph 
pulled  out  one  of  the  drawer  cages 
to  show  a  \isitoi  from  Harper's, 
and  a  gargantuan  white  lal  with  a 
definite  rubber  tire  at  midriff  and 
hips,  staggered  over  and  pulled  hini- 
sell up  to  peer  out.  Dr.  Adolph  pat 
ted  him  affectionately.  "They  are 
ver\  responsive  animals,"  he  said. 
The  rat  sparkled. 

A  third  and  most  cherished  project 
is  to  write  about  Chinese  painting— 
how  it  is  done  and  what  it  means. 
During  his  house  arrest  in  Yenching, 
Dr.  Adolph  got  a  Chinese  tutor  to 
come  in  regularh  to  teach  him  paint- 
ing—a   pursuit    he    had    to    give    up 


w  hen  he  was  taken  to  a  pi  ison  c  amp 
One  ol  his  own  works  now  hangs 
downstairs  in  the  Sterling  Hall  ol 
Medicine.  Hie  formula,  his  uuoi 
said,  was:  In  twelve  inches  ol  line, 
no  more  than  one  hie  h  ol  straight 
Formula   lot   a   lifeline  too  perhaps? 

Dr.    Adolph    took    his    visitor    to 
lunch  ai  the  Coffee  Shop  in  the-  new 
hospital,    when     Yale    faculty    wives 
in    chert)    led    smocks    prepare    and 
serve    the     food    as    volunteers.     W'c 
asked     whethei     he    had    evei     eaten 
grubs  oi   grasshoppers.    It  happened! 
he   hadn't,   hut.    "Once    you    know   it1 
is    all    good     lood,    prejudice    lades 
Man's    taste    is    sound    niitritionalh' 
il    you  go  hack   five    thousand   years 
lis    onl)    in    the    past    two    oi     three 
millennia     that     it     has     been     coil 
l  uplcd." 

Ever  adaptable.  Dr.  Adolpl 
lunched  on  pineapple  and  cottage 
cheese,  toast,  milk— and  c  hoc  olat e  ice 
cream,  "a  special  weakness  ol  mine.' 


...  !  In  plac  e  ol  an  honest  man  ir 
politics  is  one  of  the  main  themes  | 
"Notes  on  Political  Leadership 
(p.  23)  b\  Joseph  S.  Clark,  Demo 
cratie  Senatoi  from  PennsylvanS 
lie  records  also  how  he  becarJ 
mayor  ol  Philadelphia,  his  nativd 
city,  altei  his  return  from  the  Arm 
Ail'  Force  in  the  China-Bin  ma  Inch;1 
I  heater  in  World  War  II. 

Senatoi  (dark  took  his  Harvaft 
B.s.  in  iu_';;  magna  c  um  laude,  .mc 
his  Bacheloi  ol  haws  from  the  Uni 
versit)  ol  Pennsylvania  haw  Schol 
three  years  later.  He  practiced  lav 
before  and  alter  the  wai  and  rai 
for  the  Philadelphia  Cil\  Counci 
hack  in  1934.  His  Inst  elected  offid 
u.is  thai  ol  cit\  controller:  he  woi 
the  Senate  seal  in  lur>(>.  Reccntl 
people  have  been  talking  about  hin 
as  a   Presidential   candidate   in    '6(1 

.  .  .  Leo  Rosten,  who  conjures  ii| 
"The  Lun. ii  World  of  Crouch 
Marx"  (p.  ,")l),  is  the  author  ol 
scholarly  stud)  ol  prewar  Hollywodj 
and  ol  a  number  of  suspense  novel 
and  movies,  including  "Walk  has 
cm  Beacon"  and  "Sleep  My  Love 
But  perhaps  his  best  title  to  intcrprt 
tation  of  the  egghead  slapstick  c<~ 
median  Oroucho  is  his  own  grea 
funny  book.  The  Education 
Hyman  Kaplan,  which  he  wrote  al 
Leonard  Q.  Ross.  He  is  also  a  speci 
editorial  adviser  for  Look. 


PERSONAL     &     OTHERWISE 


21 


.  .  Dan  Wakefield  learned  the  facts 
bout  "The  Gang  That  Went  Good" 
i.  36)  during  six  months  when  he 
ved  in  their  neighborhood  to  work 
n  a  book  called  In  Spanish  Harlem, 
hich  Houghton  Mifflin  will  publish. 
[e  is  a  recent  graduate  of  Columbia 
miversity,  a  former  newspaper  re- 
enter, and  a  frequent  writer  for  the 
ration  and  other  magazines. 
One  question  that  neither  Mr. 
Wakefield  nor  anyone  else  has 
nswered  finally  is  why  gangs  of  city 
oys  get  into  habits  of  fighting  and 
elinquency  in  the  first  place.  One 
leory,  advanced  by  a  Los  Angeles 
sychologist,  deserves  more  atten- 
on  than  it  has  had— simply  for  its 
icturesque  quality.  Dr.  W.  H. 
■lanchard  has  compared  modern 
penile  delinquents  to  the  knights 
f  the  Middle  Ages.  Writing  in  the 
\merican  Imago  (Vol.  13,  No.  4, 
956),  he  pointed  out  that  the  de-_ 
nquent  boy,  rebelling  against  domi- 
ation  by  his  mother,  "is  almost  in- 
iriably  protesting  his  masculinity, 
is  physical  strength,  his  powers  in 
jmbat,  and  his  hatred  of  weakness, 
'his  type  of  aggression  is  quite  dif- 
'rent  from  the  assertive  impulse  to 
3  after  what  one  wants  in  life.  .  .  . 
lelinquents  will  fight  over  triviali- 
ies  and  often  .  .  .  merely  'for  the 
>ve  of  fighting.'  " 

According  to  Dr.  Blanchard,  the 
ledieval  knight  had  similar  charac- 
eristics  and  his  frequent  fighting 
Hf  the  "joy  of  combat"  was  similar 
both  a  boast  of  strength  and  a  re- 
ction  against  female  domination  in 
home  from  which  the  lather  was 
ften  absent. 
The  code  of  chivalry  was  an  "at- 
mvpt  to  restrain  the  more  extreme 
nd  brutal  expression  of  hostility. 
.  .  The  controls  were  quite  brittle 
nd  easily  gave  way  to  outbursts  of 
agression.  The  manners  and  morals 
f  chivalry  were  more  of  an  ideal 
ran  an  actuality.  The  knight  was 
rude  and  swaggering.  Despising 
lasphemy,  he  was  frequently  blas- 
hemous;  honoring  virtue,  he  was 
equently  a  scoundrel." 
One  youth  whom  Dr.  Blanchard 
let  in  an  institution  had  "acquired 
ible  manners  that  would  put  a 
)ciety  matron  to  shame.  But  this  Te- 
nement [did]  not  prevent  him  from 
ipping  a  spoon  into  his  trouser  cuff 
)  be  sharpened  on  the  wall  oi  his 
Mm  and  used  later  as  a  weapon." 


THE     BEST 

SOME  of  the  most  coveted 
awards  in  magazine  writing 
have  gone  to  lour  authors  for 
work  published  in  Harper's  last 
year. 

Dr.  David  D.  Rutstein  has  just 
been  chosen  to  receive  the  Benj- 
amin Franklin  Magazine  Award 
for  his  article  on  "The  Influenza 
Epidemic"  (August),  which  the 
judges  call  "the  best  article 
about  science  and  health"  to  ap- 
pear in  an  American  magazine 
during   1957. 

Among  the  Prize  Stories  1958: 
The  O.  Henry,  Awards  are 
Robin  White's  "First  Voice" 
(January)  and  Peter  Matthies- 
sen's  "Travelin  Man"  (Febru- 
ary). This  annual  volume  is 
edited  by  Paul  Engle. 

Martha  Foley's  The  Best 
American  Short  Stories  1958  in- 
cludes Robin  White's  "House  of 
Many  Rooms"  (December)  and 
Ray  Bradbury's  "The  Day  It 
Rained  Forever"  (July). 


.  .  .  "A  Friendly  Talk"  (p.  44)  is  a 
new  story  by  the  author  of  A  Cup  of 
Tea  for  Mr.  Thorgill,  The  Hidden 
River,  and  many  other  best-selling 
novels.  Storm  Jameson  was  born  in 
Whitby,  Yorkshire,  and  took  honors 
at  Leeds  University;  she  is  married 
to  Professor  Guy  Patterson  Chap- 
man. She  has  traveled  widely  in 
Europe,  worked  on  behalf  of  Eu- 
ropean refugee  writers,  and  lectured 
in  this  country.  Her  next  novel  will 
be  One  Ulysses  Too  Many. 

.  .  .  Wolfgang  Langewiesche's  "The 
New  Jet  Air  Liners"  (p.  50)  is  a 
prospectus  for  tomorrow,  based  en- 
tirely on  the  facts  of  today.  A  former 
test  pilot,  Mr.  Langewiesche  usually 
takes  a  turn  at  piloting  the  planes 
he  writes  about.  He  is  the  author 
of  many  articles  and  books  on  flying, 
weather,  and  climate  control,  and 
he  last  wrote  in  Harper's  on  the 
Polar  route  from  this  continent  to 
Europe.  He  Hies  his  own  plane, 
cruising  the  continents  with  his  wife. 

.  .  .  Politics  on  the  ward  and  pre- 
cinct level  rarely  get  the  kind  of  in- 
side reporting  given  by  John  Kay 
Adams  in  "Reforming  Chicago:  Slow 
but  Not  Hopeless"  (p.  69).  Mr. 
Adams    is    suburban    editor    of    the 


Chicago  Sun-Times  and  studied  the 
vote  fraud  situation  while  coverinu' 
various  stories  about  reform  groups. 
In  April  1957  he  received  the  Page 
One  Award  of  the  Chicago  News- 
paper Guild  for  his  series  spotlight- 
ing problems  of  the  Chicago  suburbs. 
Born  in  Chicago,  Mr.  Adams 
graduated  in  journalism  from  the 
University  of  Minnesota  and  studied 
political  science  and  economics  at  a 
graduate  summer  session  at  Oxford. 

.  .  .  The  paradox  oi  Australia  is  a 
brave  one.  Despite  a  strong  national 
preference  for  an  easy-going  life,  the 
Australians  are  striving  to  import 
people  who  will  work,  multiply,  and 
set  an  uncomfortable  pace  of  zealous 
effort.  They  don't  talk  of  a  popula- 
tion of  twenty  millions,  doubling  the 
present;  they  aim  at  a  hundred  mil- 
lions in  a  generation,  D.  W.  Brogan 
says  in  "The  Innocent  Continent" 
(p.  62). 

Mr.  Brogan,  Glasgow-born  and 
now  Professor  of  Political  Science  at 
Cambridge  University,  is  the  author 
of  a  dozen  or  more  books  chiefly 
about  France,  England,  and  America 
(his  latest  is  The  French  Nation). 
He  made  his  Australian  notes  after 
a  first  visit  to  that  continent  last 
summer.  His  observations  about  the 
typically  relaxed  tone  of  Australian 
life  (in  contrast  to  hopes  for  the 
future)  are  borne  out  by  a  recent 
report  in  the  Wall  Stre.et  Journal  by 
Ray  Vicker,  who  quoted  one  em- 
ployer as  saying: 

"If,  at  quitting  time,  the  average 
Australian  worker  needed  to  drive 
only  one  more  nail  to  keep  the  house 
from  falling  down,  he  would  drop 
his  tools  without  driving  the  nail." 

.  .  .  Ted  Hughes  (p.  30),  Yorkshire- 
born  Cambridge  graduate,  1954,  is 
the  author  of  The  Hawk  in  the  Rai)i 
and  has  been  teaching  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Massachusetts.  He  was  a 
mechanic  in  the  RAF. 

Robert  Graves  (p.  35),  Oxford 
graduate  and  author  oi  many,  many 
books,  including  the  recent  Five 
Pens  in  Hand,  lives  on  Majorca.  He 
was  a  captain  in  the  Royal  Welch 
Fusiliers  in   1915. 

George  Starbuck  (p.  52),  Ohio- 
born  former  graduate  student  at 
Harvard,  now  works  for  Houghton 
Mifflin.  He  used  to  write  corres- 
pondence tests  for  USAFI. 


A 


I 


> 


< 


DELUXE  $909  FIRST  CLASS  $81 9  TOURIST  $603  THRIFTAIR  $48980 

IF  THE  FARE  FITS,  TAKE  IT! 

4  GREAT  WAYS 

TO  EUROPE  ON  KLM 


Here  are  the  Royal  Dutch  "Big  4" 


f 


THE  WORLD  OVER 

KLM 


ROYAL  DUTCH 
AIRLINES 


KLM  DeLuxe,  $909- complimentary 
seven-course  dinner,  cocktails, 
champagne-virtually  an  airborne 
continental  cafe.  Full-length 
SleepAir  lounger. 

KLM  First  Class,  $819— the  same  splen- 
did service  as  DeLuxe.  Chairs  re- 
cline to  a  lazy  45  degrees.  Regal, 
roomy  berth  at  extra  cost. 

KLM  Tourist  Class,  $603  — meals  pre- 
pared with  a  master's  touch  . . .  bar 
service  available. 


KLM  ThriflAir  Service,  $489.60 -economy 
fares  are  now  the  lowest  in  airline 
history.  Specially  designed  foam 
rubber  Star-Rest  chairs,  tasty  sand- 
wich meals. 

Fares  listed  are  Paris  round  trip 
from  New  York.  Free  stopovers  at 
London,  Dublin,  Glasgow,  Brussels 
and  Amsterdam.  Gracious,  atten- 
tive Dutch  hospitality  goes  with 
you  all  the  way.  So,  above  all,  fly 
Royal  Dutch !  See  your  travel  agent 
or  call  your  nearest  KLM  office. 


■Harper 

magaJIzine 


NOTES  ON  POLITICAL 

LEADERSHIP 


JOSEPH   S.    CLARK 

U.  S.  Senator,  Pennsylvania 

A  potential  Presidential  candidate  tells  how 

he  won  his  surprising  victories  in 

Pennsylvania — and  how  the  mayor  of  a  big  city 

operates,  in  a  job  that  is  sometimes  subtle, 

sometimes  rough,  and  always  fascinating. 

LATE  one  afternoon  in  the  fall  of  1943,  I 
was  sunning  myself  on  the  terrace  of  an  Air 
Force  billet  at  26  Ferozshah  Road,  New  Delhi, 
India,  looking  through  a  copy  of  Life  Magazine. 
There  was  a  picture  of  Bill  Bullitt  in  a  Chester- 
field and  Homburg  inspecting  slum  property  in 
Philadelphia.  Bill  was  running  for  mayor  on  the 
Democratic  ticket  against  Barney  Samuel,  the  in- 
cumbent Republican. 

I  thought  to  myself:  "That's  what  I'm  going 
to  do  when  the  war  is  over  and  I  get  out  of  this 
uniform."  World  War  II  was  really  just  begin- 
ning then  so  far  as  we  in  the  China-Burma-India 
Theater— known  in  the  Pentagon  as  those  "Con- 
fused Bums  in  India"— were  concerned.  Two 
years  went  by  before  I  turned  in  my  Air  Force 
suit. 


While  I  was  overseas,  oil  was  discovered  at  my 
mother's  family  home  at  Avery  Island,  Louisiana. 
When  I  came  back  to  Philadelphia  I  could  afford 
the  luxury  of  seriously  going  into  politics.  I  had 
only  dabbled  in  it  during  the  'thirties,  for  I  had 
been  pretty  well  occupied  with  making  a  living 
out  of  the  law. 

The  Democratic  party  in  Philadelphia  was 
looking  for  new  blood  in  1946.  Despite  the  long 
record  of  Republican  misrule,  the  Democrats  had 
not  elected  a  mayor  since  1884  and  the  Repub- 
lican political  machine  was  solidly  entrenched. 
The  depression  had  created  a  Democratic  party 
where  none  had  existed  before;  but  although  it 
came  close  to  winning  the  mayor's  office  in  1935 
and  1939,  Bill  Bullitt  took  a  bad  beating  in 
1943.  When  1947  rolled  around,  Democratic 
chances  were  dim  indeed. 

Luckily,  I  found  myself  in  excellent  company 
when  I  first  got  involved  in  local  politics.  Dick 
Dilworth  and  Jim  Finnegan  had  also  come  back 
from  the  war  interested  in  working  with  the 
Democratic  party.  By  the  spring  of  1947  the 
three  of  us— with  the  help  of  Mike  Bradley, 
Democratic  city  committee  chairman— had  moved 
into  positions  of  local  party  influence.  Dilworth 
and  I  helped  organize  an  effective  independent 
group  largely  through  Americans  for  Democratic 
Action.  Finnegan  was  Bradley's  right-hand  man 
at  the  city  committee.  Without  Jim  we  would 
never  have  succeeded.    His  untimely  death  this 


24 


NOTES     ON      POLITICAL     LEADERSHIP 


spring  deprived  our  part)  ol  one  <>l  its  ablest  and 
most  respected  leaders  on  the  national  as  well  as 
the  local  scene.  He  made  the  an  oJ  practical 
politics  an  honorable  profession. 

Dilworth  made  a  valiant  hut  unsuccessful  cam- 
paign loi  the  mayor's  office  in  1!>17.  Next  yeai 
a  s<  ries  oi  Republican  scandals  hit  the  headlines. 
In  1949,  with  Finnegan  as  <  it\  chairman  (Bradley 
having  become  Collector  ol  the  Port).  Dilworth 
was  elected  cii\  treasure!  and  I  city  controller. 
Two  years  later  I  was  mayor,  Dilworth  was  dis- 
trict attorney,  and  Finnegan  was  president  of 
City  Council.  A  new  cit\  charter  was  approved 
and  the  Democrats  controlled  the  Council  four- 
tec  n  to  three.  The  ball  had  certainly  been  thrown 
to  me.   The  problem  was  what  to  do  with  it. 


Senator  Clark  by  Allied  Bendiner 

WHEN  1  first  took  office  as  city  controller  in 
1950  I  came  into  contact  with  Frank  Short,  who 
had  been  budget  clerk  under  the  Republican 
regime.  Frank  was  an  old  newspaper  man  turned 
municipal  financier  by  accident.  In  those 
primitive  days  he— together  with  Ed  Harris,  Re- 
publican   leader    of    the    46th    Ward,    and    Bill 


Shellenberger,  lot  met  l\  an  employee  ol  the  Penn- 
sylvania Economy  League  had  the  job  ol  throw- 
ing together  an  annual  cit\  budget  which  would 
meet  the  requirements  ol  the-  Republican  city 
committee   as   expressed    through   City    Council 

and  the  niaxoi . 

Frank  and  I  became  warm  friends.  His  advice 
was   disinterested    and    intelligent.     During    my 

two  years  as  (ontiollei  1  iaiel\  made  a  move- 
affecting  the  budget  without  Inst  talking  ovei 
the  details  with  him.  When  1  became  mayor, 
Ftank  moved  ovei  to  the  cit\  representative's 
office,  where  his  newspapei  training  and  wide 
knowledge  ol  <ii\  hall  made  him  invaluable  as 
a  consultant  on  public  relations  in  the  widest 
sense  ol    thai   muc  h  abused   let  m. 

One-  day  in  1951  we  were  talking  togethet 
about  tin  scandals  in  cit\  government.  Frank 
commented:  "The)  nevei  would  have  happened 
il   fudge  Lamberton  had  lived." 

"Why  not?"   1  asked. 

"because  he  was  a  completely  honest  man." 
Frank  replied,  "and  his  own  high  standards  ol 
integrity  spread  from  the  mayor's  office  all  ovei 
the  c  itv." 

lamberton.  an  incorruptible  judge,  had  been 
drafted  to  run  as  mayor  by  the  Republican 
machine  in  1939  to  save  il  from  that  late  worse 
than  death— the  election  ol  a  Democrat.  The 
maneuver  was  successful,  but  alter  slightly  mole 
than  a  year  in  office  Mayor  Lamberton  died;  city 
hall  slumped  back  to  its  normal  pattern  ol  un- 
imaginative inefficiency   and  small-time  graft. 

I  he  chance  conversation  with  Frank  Short  led 
me  to  some  thinking  about  the  function  ol 
leadership  in  an  urban  democracy.  Surely  il 
Lamberton's  integrity  had  the  result  attributed 
to  it,  there  must  be  other  ways  in  which  the 
impact  ol  a  mayor's  character  and  political 
philosophy  could  make  itsell  felt— not  only  in 
local  government  but  throughout  the  community 
generally. 

An  old  and  favorite  story  ol  politicians  in- 
volves the  late  Senator  Clyde  Swanson  ol  Vir- 
ginia. Secretary  ol  the  Navy  in  the  first  Cabinet 
of  President  Franklin  1).  Roosevelt.  Swanson, 
beloved  by  all  who  knew  him.  was  once  asked 
to  what  principles  he  attributed  his  political 
in  cess. 

"To  three  rules  ol  conduct  from  which  I  have 
never  deviated."  he  replied.  "First:  Be  bold  as 
a  lion  on  a  rising  tide.  Second:  When  the  water- 
reaches  the  upper  deck,  follow  the  rats.  Third, 
and  most  important  of  all:  When  in  doubt  do 
right." 

Perhaps  the  second  maxim  is  as  essential   for 


BY     SENATOR     JOSEPH     S.     CLARK 


25 


political  survival  as  the  first  and  third  are  for 
political  success.  It  was  my  good  fortune  as 
mayor  never  to  have  the  water  reach  the  upper 
deck,  although  there  were  a  couple  of  times 
when  it  came  pretty  close  to  the  gunwale.  But 
often  it  seemed  wise  to  be  bold  and,  at  least  on 
occasion,  doubt  was  resolved  on  the  side  of  virtue. 
The  mayor  of  a  large  city  has  heavy  executive 
responsibilities— especially  in  a  city  such  as 
Philadelphia,  which  operates  under  a  charter 
giving  strong  powers  to  the  mayor  and  relatively 
little  authority  to  the  City  Council.  Within  his 
limited  field,  such  a  mayor  carries  responsibilities 
which  differ  only  in  degree— not  in  kind— from 
those  of  the  President.  Philadelphia,  with  a 
population  of  more  than  two  million,  has  more 
inhabitants  than  twenty  of  our  forty-eight  states. 
The  mayor's  problems,  therefore,  are  more  dif- 
ficult than  those  of  many  a  governor.  It  has  been 
said  that  the  second  most  demanding  executive 
job  in  America  is  held  by  the  mayor  of  New 
York;  the  mayors  of  our  other  great  cities  can 
feel,  with  good  reason,  that  they  follow  close 
behind— and  that  the  qualities  of  political  leader- 
ship demanded  of  a  President,  a  governor,  and 
a  big  city  mayor  are  not  very  different. 

WHAT     DOES     A     MAYOR 
REALLY     DO? 

IT  I  S  hard  for  a  mayor  to  plan  his  day,  for  he 
has  no  fixed  routine— or  at  least  I  was  never 
able  to  arrive  at  one.  Speaking  dates,  to  be  sure, 
are  lined  up  in  advance.  Ordinances  passed  by 
City  Council  must  be  signed  or  vetoed  within 
ten  clays  of  passage;  and  Council  passes  a  batch 
every  week.  Cabinet  meetings  took  two  hours  at 
lunch  on  Wednesdays.  A  large  group  of'  com- 
missioners, deputies,  and  often  their  wives,  met 
with  me  in  the  evening  four  times  a  year.  The 
budget  message  has  to  go  down  to  Council 
on  a  day  in  September.  Most  of  that  month 
and  all  of  October  each  year  found  a  high 
priority  given  to  political  campaigning,  in  sup- 
port of  candidates  for  everything  from  clerk  of 
the  Quarter  Sessions  Court  to  President  of  the 
United  States.  And  every  February  and  March 
there  were  endless  meetings  in  the  traditional 
smoke-filled  rooms  to  work  out  a  "slate"  of  candi- 
dates which  would  prevent  that  anathema  of  all 
professional  politicians:  an  open  primary  fight. 
But,  in  between,  I  was  never  certain  of  what 
was  coming  next.  Arriving  at  the  office  at 
8:30  a.m.,  I  would  unload  my  briefcase,  turn  over 
to  my  staff  for  processing  the  papers  acted  on  at 
home  the  evening  before,  and  send  back  to  the 


files  the  reports  I  had  read.  Before  leaving  the 
office  around  six,  the  mail  would  be  signed  and 
the  briefcase  repacked.  In  between,  each  day 
was  different  and  therefore  fascinating. 

Much  of  my  time  was  spent  listening  to  other 
people's  plans  and  problems.  On  a  typical  day, 
for  example,  the  city's  managing  director  and 
fire  commissioner  were  having  a  rough  time  with 
the  head  of  the  firemen's  union  (they  kept  on 
having  it  for  four  long  years).  The  director  of 
finance  was  concerned  lest  our  campaign  to  have 
new  loans  authorized  at  the  spring  primary 
would  fall  on  its  face  (it  did).  The  city  repre- 
sentative wanted  help  in  determining  whether  to 
serve  sherry,  bourbon,  both,  or  neither,  to  Queen 
Juliana  and  Prince  Bernhard  of  the  Netherlands 
at  11:00  a.m.  at  the  reception  at  the  art  museum 
(we  settled  for  sherry  in  the  Dutch  Room).  The 
city  solicitor  was  concerned  because  the  Board 
of  City  Trusts  refused  to  admit  Negro  orphans 
to  Girard  College  (as  this  is  written,  the  question 
is  still  unsettled).  A  delegation  was  waiting  out- 
side to  protest  open  dump  burning  at  83rd  and 
Buist  Avenue  (we  finally  closed  the  dump).  The 
Greater  Philadelphia  Movement  wanted  the  city 
to  put  millions  of  dollars  into  a  new  Food  Dis- 
tribution Center  in  South  Philadelphia  but  Al- 
bert M.  Greenfield  said  it  was  a  waste  of  the 
taxpayers'  money  (the  city  is  now  financing  the 
project). 

Throughout  this  crowded  routine,  a  man  new 
to  the  mayor's  office  is  compelled  to  hammer  out 
for  himself  the  principles  that  should  guide  him 
in  exercising  power  over  the  life  of  a  city.  One 
of  the  first  things  that  struck  me  was  how  true 
—and  how  terribly  difficult  to  apply  in  day-to-day 
reality— were  the  copybook  maxims  which  have 
been  the  old  standbys  of  political  commentators 
and  teachers  since  Thucydides. 

WHERE     THE     RUCK     STOPS 

IT  SHOULD  go  without  saying,  for  instance, 
that  a  mayor  must  be  honest— not  only  money- 
honest  but  intellectually  honest.  Honest  not  only 
with  other  people  but,  even  more  important, 
honest  with  himself.  "To  thine  own  self  be  true" 
is  as  good  advice  to  a  mayor  as  it  was  to  Laertes. 
And  this  is  especially  difficult,  for  wishful  think- 
ing can  so  easily  convert  "I  want  it"  into  "This 
is  right." 

But  simple  honesty  is  not  enough— not  nearly 
enough.  It  is  here  that  Lincoln  Steffens— who 
spent  years  studying  corruption  in  American 
cities— vastly  underestimated  the  complexity 
of    American    municipal    government.     Steffens 


26  NOTES     ON     POLITICAL     LEADERSHIP 

Chin  Up,  Boys'. 


again,    I   would    not    appoint  a   half-dozen   men 
whom  1  chose  al  that  time.) 


I,U  Eollowing  headlines  appeared 
top  right  and  top  left  on  page  one 
,,l  the  Wall  Street  Journal  March 
18.    1958 

Federal   Seers    Predict 
Deeper  Recession,  Now 
Doubt   Mid-*58  Upturn 

Main  Firms  Use  Yachts, 
Retreats  to  Aid  Execs' 
Morale,    Spur    Business 


thought  that  if  the  business  interests  would  keep 
their  dirty  hands  out  ol  politics,  honest  citizens 
would  elect  honest  officials  who  would  then  col- 
lect the  garbage  and  reform  the  police  depart- 
ment and  everything  would  be  fine.  Maybe  that 
was  a  sound  analysis  of  the  problem  in  the  old 
days,  but  things  are  far  different  now.  Every 
mayor  soon  learns  that  there  are  both  honest  and 
earnest  conflicts  of  interest  which  involve  every 
quarter  ol  the  community;  he  must  strike  a 
balance  among  them. 

\„  equally  obvious  requirement   is  that   trie 
mayor  should  be  a  good  administrator.    Harry  S 
Truman    as  President,  had  the  cardinal  rule  ol 
sound  administration  posted  on  his  Whin   House 
desk-    "The  buck  stops  here."    No  matter   how 
complex  the  issue  and  however  meritorious  op- 
posing plans  may  seem,  the  mayor,  like  the  Presi- 
dent   must    make    the   decisions-and    he    must 
make   them   prompt!)    and   firmly.    He  may   get 
some  help   from   the  briefing  of  competent   ad- 
visers, from  prayerful-and  preferably  secluded 
-thought   and   analysis,   and    from    a    lew   wel  - 
chosen  personal  contacts  on  the  grass-roots  level. 
But  in  the  end  the  chief  executive  must  act  on 
his  own  responsibility  and  his  alone. 

This  is  a  rule  much  easier  stated  than  followed, 
and  so  are  the  other  ancient  precepts  of  sound 
administration.  Every  political  leader  will  agree 
with  them  wholeheartedly-while  regretfully  re- 
membering the  many  times  during  his  own  career 
when  he  violated  them.  Here  are  a  lew  ol  the 
classics: 

Pick  able  subordinates,  delegate  respon- 
sibility, follow  up  to  see  that  orders  have  been 
carried  out,  support  your  administrators  unless 
they  are  clearly  wrong;  then  either  fire  them  or 
take  the  rap  yourself.     (If  I   had  it  to  do  over 


Remember  that  with  each  individual  you 
have  ..  cup  ol  good  will.  You  can  gulp  it  down 
or  sip  it  slowly.  And  .1  you  sip-it  tends  miracu- 
lously to  renew  itself,  (1  drank  too  quickly  tin 
cup  ol  good  wdl  ol  at  least  three  Philadelphians, 
whose  resulting  opposition  delayed  or  deleated 
many  a  pet  project.) 

Ordei  youi  life  so  you  can  work  hard  and 
still* get  adequate  rest,  some  time  lor  your  family 
and  friends,  and  a  chance  not  only  to  keep'  up 
with  your  profession  but  with  the  major  currents 
of  creative  thought  in  the  world  about  von.  (At 
least  twice  a  year  I  had  to  make  bonfires  ol  the 
papers  which  had  languished  unread  in  my  brief- 
case lor  months.) 

THE     ART     OF     MOVING     FAST 

AS  I  made  ni\  sometimes  tumbling  wa\ 
through  tin  administrative  labyrinth  of  the 
mayoralty  I  found,  curiously  enough,  that  m)  Eour 
years  in  the  Air  Force  were  my  salvation.  Lawyers, 
as  a  rule,  get  no  experience  in  administration. 
I  did  not  even  know  what  the  word  meant 
when  1  got  myself  a  captain's  commission  in 
Vugusl  I (M1.  Imagine  my  surprise  on  finding 
mysell  a  year  later  -Director  of  Organizational 
Planning"  tor  the  Air  Stall.  1  knew  nothing 
about  organization  and  less  about  planning,  - 
and  1  had  to  learn  last. 

A  few  months  later  I  took  a  nine-week  cram 
course  in  personnel  administration  at  the  Com- 
mand and  General  Staff  School  in  Leavenworth, 
Kansas.   Next  thing  I  knew  I  was  in  New  Delhi 
drawing    organization    charts    in    five    colors    to 
show  the  relationship  between  the  British  Army, 
Navy   and  Air  Force;  the  Chinese  Army  and  Air 
Force'     the    Indian     Vrmy    and    Air    Force;    the 
American  Army  Engineers,  Air  Transport  Com- 
mand   Tenth  Air  Force,  Air  Service  Command, 
Headquarters   AAF    India-Burma   Theater;    Joe 
Stilwell,    Claire    Chennault,    Lord    Auchinleck, 
Chiang     Kai-shek,     Lord     Louis     Mountbatten 
(known   as   "The   Supremo,"   no   kidding!),   Air 
Marshal    Sir    John    Baldwin    and   his    RAF   col- 
leagues, and-finally-my  own  boss,  Major  Genera 
George   E.   Stratemeyer,   in   whose   debt   I   shall 
always  be  for  his  warm  friendship  and  support 
You  can't  be  a  part  of  an  organization  which 
grows  a  hundredfold-lrom  two  thousand  officers 
and  twenty  thousand  men-in  four  years,  without 
learning  something  about  administration  in  the 


BY     SENATOR     JOSEPH     S.     CLARK 


27 


process.  Without  the  Air  Force  I  would  have 
been   lost   in   the   mayor's    chair. 

Beyond  the  timeless  and  universal  rules  of 
public  ethics  and  administration,  the  political 
leader  must  also  try  to  master  a  more  sophisti- 
cated set  of  tactics.  The  art  of  handling  his 
friends,  his  enemies,  and  himself  in  a  constantly 
changing  local  political  situation  can  be  very 
subtle  indeed— and  in  learning  it  there  seems 
to  be  no  substitute  for  experience. 

Suppose,  for  example,  that  you  have  just  won 
a  great  political  victory  in  a  city  like  Philadel- 
phia. Temporarily,  at  least,  you  are  a  local  hero. 
You  will  accordingly  have  a  honeymoon  (unhap- 
pily without  a  bride)  during  which  you  can 
accomplish  easily  a  good  many  things  which  will 
be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  later  on. 

It  is  important,  therefore,  to  strike  while  the 
iron  is  hot— if  I  may  mix  a  metaphor.  Our  re- 
form administration  came  into  office  in  January 
1952,  on  a  wave  of  good  will  and  civic  virtue 
which  drowned  effective  opposition  for  well  over 
a  year.  During  that  period  we  were  able  to  push 
a  $20  million  tax  increase  through  a  reluctant 
City  Council.  We  were  also  able  to  establish 
both  the  foundations  of  a  sound  personnel  system 
—based  on  merit  instead  of  patronage— and  to 
hire  the  best  available  people  for  executive  jobs, 
despite  the  fact  that  some  of  them  came  from 
as  far  afield  as  Denver  and  Oakland,  California. 
Moreover,  the  marriage  was  still  a  happy  one 
when  we  beat  back  the  first  attack  of  the  com- 
bined Republican  and  Democratic  organizations 
to  cripple  the  new  city  charter  in  the  spring  of 
1953. 

At  every  point  in  your  administration  you  will 
be  subjected  to  flattery— much  of  it,  to  be  sure, 
obvious  and  nauseating,  but  a  good  deal  of  it 
subtle,  insidious,  and  disarming.  Remember, 
therefore,  with  Lord  Acton  that  all  power  tends 
to  corrupt  and  take  frequent  measurements  of 
the  size  of  your  head. 

There  are,  I  found,  three  good  antidotes  for 
a  swelled  head: 

(1)  Subordinates  who  aren't  afraid  of  telling 
you  the  truth.  While  there  were  many  in  this 
category,  I  was  blessed  with  two  particularly  able 
and  candid  administrators  in  Lennox  Moak, 
director  of  finance  during  the  first  two  years, 
and  his  successor,  Vernon  Northrop.  The  former, 
with  the  finesse  of  a  battering  ram,  the  latter 
with  the  skill  of  a  trained  diplomat,  kept  the 
mayor  in  his  proper  place. 

(2)  Continued  association  with  very  old  friends 
who  knew  you  before  you  became  Mr.  Big  Frog 
in   a   relatively   small   puddle.    I    lunched   quite 


often  with  four— my  college  roommate,  Morris 
Duane;  my  lifelong  friends,  Geoffrey  Smith  and 
Philip  Wallis;  and  my  former  law  partner,  Car- 
roll Wetzel.  A  frank,  relaxed  talk  with  men  like 
these  was  bound  to  send  one  back  to  city  hall 
with  a  better  understanding  of  one's  assets  and 
liabilities. 

(3)  A  wife  who  tempers  affection  with  under- 
standing of  human  frailty.  For  this  there  is  no 
substitute.    I  have  one  such. 

You  must  constantly  and  carefully  assess  the 
powers  of  your  office  in  relation  to  other  power 
groups.  You  must  know  where  you  stand  with 
City  Council,  with  the  local  judiciary,  with  the 
governor  and  state  legislature,  with  the  adminis- 
tration in  Washington  and  the  Congress  and  the 
multiple  federal  agencies  to  which  you  will  in- 
evitably look  for  help. 

The  Philadelphia  charter  gives  the  mayor 
great  advantages  in  dealing  with  City  Council. 
His  appointments  do  not  need  to  be  confirmed; 
he  has  comparative  freedom  to  administer  as  he 
sees  fit;  not  much  substantial  municipal  legisla- 
tion is  called  for.  Only  with  respect  to  the  budget 
can  the  mayor  be  checked.  Luckily,  as  I've  noted, 
we  got  over  the  tax  increase  hurdle  during  the 
initial  post-election  honeymoon.  And  so  long  as 
Jim  Finnegan  was  president  of  the  council  all 
went  well.  By  the  time  he  left,  early  in  1955,  a 
pattern  of  co-operation  had  developed  which 
even  the  constant  and  bitter  rows  I  had  with  the 
Democratic  organization  did  not  destroy. 

In  other  governmental  agencies— local,  state, 
and  federal— we  cultivated  assiduously  those  peo- 
ple who  could  help  us  most,  whether  they  were 
Democrats  or  Republicans. 

FRIENDS     AND     ENEMIES 

ANOTHER  preoccupation  that  every 
prudent  mayor  should  have  constantly  on 
his  mind  is  his  relations  with  the  local  press, 
radio,  and  7'V  stations.  Here  I  found  that  hard 
work  pays  off  handsomely. 

When  our  reform  administration  took  office, 
many  reporters,  commentators,  and  editors  had 
a  healthy  skepticism  about  both  our  motives  and 
our  abilities.  Some  of  them  suspected  that  the 
mayor's  hat  was  high  and  his  shirt  stuffed.  We 
did  our  best  to  play  everything  on  the  top  of  the 
table— to  be  friendly,  available,  co-operative,  and 
frank.  Gradually  the  image  of  the  typical 
Harvard  man— whom  you  can  always  tell,  though 
not  much— began  to  dissolve.  One  incident  that 
may  have  had  something  to  do  with  this  was  the 
mayor's  press  party  one  hot  August  evening;  our 


28 


NO  I    IS     ON      POLITICAL      L  L  A  I)  I    R  S  II  I  P 


rendition  <>l  "Sweel  Adeline"  a)  about  midnight 
was  so  outstanding  that  neighbors  called  the  po- 
lice. Whatevei  a  politician's  platform  ma)  be, 
the  reporters'  mosl  important  judgments  aboui 
him  arc  personal  ones;  il  he  is  trying  to  cover 
something  pretentious  or  phony  undei  high- 
sounding  phrases,  the}   soon  find  ii  out. 

A  political  leader  also  needs  to  know  at  e\ei\ 
minute  just  where  he  stands  with  his  own  part} 
and  the  opposition.  So  fai  as  the  Republicans 
were  concerned,  we  wen  lu<k\  indeed.  I  'he) 
were  so  demoralized  l>\  their  defeat  in  1951,  so 
lacking  in  leadership,  so  inept  in  opposition. 
that  for  lour  years  we  wen  able  to  ignore  them. 
With  the  Democrats  ii  was  different.  The  phi- 
losophy ol  our  administration  was  completer) 
opposed  to  thai  ol  man)  ol  the  leaders  ol  the  <  ii\ 
organization.  The)  were  in  politics  fot  profit, 
power,  and  prestige— nothing  else.  Yet  we  (onld 
not  win  ele<  (ions  without  them. 

So.  for  four  years  there  was  brush  warfare  for 
limited  objectives  nevei  massive  retaliation  on 
either  side— probably  because  neither  antagonist 
was  able  to  select  a  time  and  place  ol  his  own 
choosing.  Each  spring  we  would  quarrel  bitterl) 
ovei  candidates  in  the  primary.  Each  fall  we 
would  kisv  make  up,  and  have  pictures  taken 
with  our  arms  around  each  other's  shoulders.  I 
always  kept  thinking: 

"This  spring  we  must  knock  them  out  ol  die 
box." 

But  the  time  never  came.  And  in  1955  when 
question  of  the  succession  arose  the  organization 
swallowed  Dick  Dilworth  as  its  candidate  lot 
mayor  like  a  brave  little  bo)  taking  castoi  oil. 

Yet  as  I  look  hack  on  m\  administration  I 
think  that  one  of  m\  most  set  ions  early  mis- 
calculations was  thinking  that  I  could  ignore 
the  Democratic  cit)  committee  and  get  awa)  with 
it.  So  far  as  defending  the  ciiv  chartei  and  get- 
ting our  budget  through  Council  were  con- 
cerned, we  were  successful.  But  for  three  long 
years  Kill  Green,  the  Democratic  cit)  chairman, 
and  his  ward  leaders  held  on  to  their  power  in 
the  county  offices.  Atrd  in-the  state  legislature  in 
Harrisburg  no  legislation  affecting  the  city  of 
Philadelphia  went  through  without  Green's  con 
sent.  This  situation  resulted  in  many  frustrating 
failures  and  1  had  to  eat  a  lot  of  humble  pie. 
Even  today,  the  governor  must  look  to  the  city 
committee  rather  than  to  the  mayor  if  he  wants 
help  in  carrying  out  his  state  program. 

A  successful  politician  must  learn  what  he 
can  expect  from  his  local  business  and  financial 
leaders  and   from  organized   labor. 

We  came  to  expect  nothing  from  the  Philadel- 


phia Chamber  ol  Commerce.  Like  its  national 
parent,  it  kept  repeating  ancient  and  obsolete 
dogma.  I  oi  sixt)  seven  years  it  had  got  its  way 
in  ciu  hall  low  taxes,  inadequate  municipal 
services,  favors  fot  those  who  would  pa)  fot  them 
and  ii  was  slow  to  realize  that  times  had 
changed.  Yet  I  now  feel  that  il  I  had  been  more 
tolerant  and  friendl)  toward  the  Chamber,  we 
might  have  avoided  at  least  two  rows  which 
set  our  program  back.  And  toda)  new  leader 
ship  in  the  Chambei  is  giving  Mayor  Dilworth 
co-operation  I  nevei   could  obtain. 

\\  H  <»    SPEA  K  S 

FOR     THE     PEOPLE? 

F()  R  I  U  N  AT  E  \.\  .  die-  Chambei  did  not 
speak  lor  all  the  city's  businessmen.  The 
top-flight  business  leadership  was  organized  in  the 
Greater  Philadelphia  Movement,  and  it  was  eagei 
to  co-operate.  These  men  supported  the  Penn 
Center  development— a  \ast  project  (reported 
l>\  fames  Reichley  in  the  February  1957  issue  ol 
Harper's)  which  is  remaking  the  center  ol  the 
en\.  I  he\  developed  the  new  food  Distribution 
Center,  replacing  the  city's  old  and  inefficient 
markets.  And  ihe\  organized  and  helped  finance 
die-  citi/ens'  e  harter  committee,  which  was  ol 
tremendous  help  in  gelling  and  keeping  our 
hasic  political  reforms.  Most  of  them  were 
Republicans,  but  i\u\  were  "Greater  Philadel- 
phians"  before  they  were  partisans— and  there- 
fore as  anxious  to  get  our  help  as  we  were  to 
get   theirs. 

Organized  labor  had  supported  us  on  our  way 
up,  although  there  were  a  few  rough  moments 
at  the  summit.  For  over  a  year  I  was  unneces- 
saril)  at  odds  with  foe  McDonough,  the  All. 
leader  in  Philadelphia,  because  ol  my  own  tact- 
lessness. He  wauled  a  representative  of  laboi  on 
the  civil  sen  ice  commission,  which  f  did  not 
think  appropriate.  Ol  necessity,  he  had  to 
espouse  the  cause  of  fim  Forbes,  flamboyant 
leader  ol  the  firefighters'  local  union.  He  was 
also  concerned  because  we  had  abolished  the 
forty-hour  week  fot  eitv  employees  two  days  alter 
we  took  office— not  because  we  opposed  it.  but  be- 
cause the  lame-duck  Republican  Council  which 
had  voted  it  in  had  failed  to  provide  the  tax 
money  to  pay  for  it.  From  where  foe  sat.  he  had 
a  strong  case,  and  I  should  have  been  more 
sympathetic  to  the  difficulties  which  confronted 
him  inside  his  own  organization. 

But,  on  the  whole,  the  unions  stood  solidly 
behind  our  administration  and  asked  for  little 
the \    weren't  entitled   to.    Main    ol    their  leaders 


BY     SENATOR     JOSEPH     S.     CLARK 


29 


served  faithfully  and  well  on  the  non-paid  citizen 
boards  and  commissions  which  were  an  impor- 
tant feature  of  the  new  charter. 

Winning  and  holding  the  loyalty  of  the  civil 
servants  was  a  major  undertaking  because  of 
the  sleazy  methods  of  administration  and  result- 
ing low  morale  we  inherited.  We  fired  a  few 
crooked  cops  and  firemen,  made  friends  with  the 
AFL  blue-collar  employees  union,  and  gave 
everybody  a  long  overdue  pay  raise.  We  finally 
convinced  them,  I  think,  that  they  didn't  have  to 
grease  their  ward  leader's  palm  to  hold  their  jobs 
or  win  promotion.  I  believe  we  ended  up  with 
as  fine  a  group  of.  hard-working,  loyal,  cour- 
teous employees  as  any  large  corporation  could 
boast  of. 

Finally,  a  political  leader  must  know  how  he 
stands  with  the  people,  and  what  steps  he  should 
take  to  keep  them  constantly  informed  of  his 
program,  so  that  he  can  rally  popular  support  at 
critical  moments. 

This  was  a  major  preoccupation  for  me.  We 
tried  to  operate  in  a  goldfish  bowl.  We  solicited 
criticism  and  suggestions.  Once  a  week  we  were 
on  radio  explaining  our  plans  and  programs. 
Twice  a  month  we  had  television  shows— "Tell 
it  to  the  Mayor"  on  which  we  solicited  gripes  on 
everything  from  trash  collection  to  traffic  control 
—and  "Report  to  the  People"  on  which  I  re- 
viewed the  last  month's  happenings  in  city  hall. 
Press  conferences  were  held  once  a  week.  In 
addition,  all  reporters  could  see  the  mayor  on 
short  notice  at  any  time,  and  had  my  phone 
number  to  call  at  any  hour.  Cabinet  officers 
spoke  whenever  they  were  asked. 

Through  these  channels  and  from  our  political 
friends  flowed  a  daily  stream  of  information 
which  we  tried  to  dissect  at  cabinet  meetings. 
In  spite  of  a  good  many  mistakes,  I  think  we 
came  fairly  close  to  knowing  the  day-to-day 
public  reaction  to  what  we  were  doing  and  to 
what  extent  we  could  rally  support  for  our  next 
move. 

HOW     HIGH     TO     AIM? 

NO  MATTER  how  carefully  a  mayor 
may  remember  all  these  things,  he  is  not 
likely  to  succeed  unless  he  also  remembers  his 
single  most  priceless  asset.  This  is  simply  the 
fact  that  he  is  the  directly  elected  representative 
of  all  the  people  in  his  city. 

They  look  to  him  for  leadership,  not  to  the 
members  of  the  council  or  to  the  party  hierarchy. 
They  expect  him  to  carry  out  his  party's  cam- 
paign promises.  They  cheer  him  if  their  interests 


are  successfully  defended,  and  blame  him  for 
any  failure. 

No  appointed  official— city  manager,  managing 
director,  or  chief  administrator— can  possibly  gel 
or  keep  the  prestige  of  an  elected  mayor.  Top 
leadership  in  American  politics  is  never  hired;  it 
is  always  elected.  This  is  the  mayor's  great 
strength.   It  is  also  his  heaviest  responsibility. 

For  the  essence  of  leadership  is  to  lead,  not  to 
follow.  It  means  staying  ahead  of  the  crowd- 
far  enough  ahead  so  that  people  can  clearly  see 
which  way  you  are  heading— but  not  so  far  that 
you  lose  sight  of  your  followers  and  they  of  you. 
Deciding  how  far  ahead  you  should  be  at  any 
moment  is  a  matter  of  intuition,  not  something 
you  can  settle  according  to  the  formal  rules  of 
administration.  It  is  said  ad  nauseam  that 
politics  is  the  art  of  the  possible— but  in  his 
heart  every  successful  political  executive  knows 
that  what  is  possible  depends  largely  on  the 
quality  of  his  own  leadership. 

One  great  danger  to  democracy  is  that  power 
will  fall  into  the  hands  of  men  who  react  to  new 
challenges  in  obsolete  ways.  Toynbee  has  warned 
us  that  the  men  who  have  successfully  responded 
to  one  challenge  are  rarely  able  to  supply  the 
leadership  needed  for  the  next  one.  They  tend 
to  think  the  same  policies  and  methods  will  work 
again.    More  often  than  not,  they  won't. 

So  the  primary  function  of  sophisticated 
leadership  is  to  use  the  experience  of  the  past  as 
a  kind  of  arch,  through  which  to  look  at  each 
challenge   as  something  quite  new. 

A     SHORT     DISTANCE 

SOLVING  these  new  problems  requires  the 
aid  of  skilled  planners.  They  are  practically 
all  in  short  supply— whether  they  are  technicians 
in  shelter,  traffic,  water  resources,  or  race  rela- 
tions. They  cost  money.  One  of  the  leader's  jobs 
is  to  get  that  money  at  almost  any  cost.  No 
mayor  of  any  major  American  city  can  possibly 
succeed  today  unless  he  has  at  his  elbow  the  very 
best  planners— for  the  city,  metropolitan  area, 
and  region— that  money  can  buy;  and  money 
alone  is  not  enough.  Often  he  must  persuade 
them  to  enter  public  service  at  considerable  per- 
sonal loss. 

He  can  do  this  only  if  he  holds  a  high  con- 
ception  of   the   purpose   of   political   leadership. 

He  must  set  worthy  goals  for  himself,  lor  the 
men  who  work  with  him,  and  for  the  people  he 
hopes  to  lead.  Nobody  can  be  expected  to  follow 
a  mayor  with  clay  feet. 

Alexis  de  Tocqueville,  in  his  classic  study  of 


30 


NOTES     ON      POLITICAL     L  E  A  DERSHI  1» 


the  United  States,  concluded  that  such  ;i  high 
standard  <>l  leadership  was  Impossible  in  a 
democracy.  Our  form  ol  governmenl  was  not 
suited,  he  believed,  to  "give  a  certain  elevation 
to  the  human  mind  ...  to  inspire  nun  with  a 
scorn  ol  mere  temporal  advantages,  to  form  and 
nourish  strong  convictions,  and  to  keep  alive  i In- 
spirit ol  honorable  devotedness."  On  the  con- 
trary, he  thought  that  democracy  was  more  likely 
to  "divert  the  moral  and  intellectual  activity  ol 
man  to  the  production  ol  comforl  ...  to  insure 
iln  greatest  enjoyment  and  to  avoid  the  most 
miser)  to  each  of  the  individuals  who  comprise 
it." 

I  I  \  k  1  a  more  cheerful  view.  I  believe  it  is 
the  function  of  modern  democratic  Leadership  to 
do  both— to  provide  a  Hoot  below  which  misery 
will  not  be  permitted  to  sink,  and  also  to  provide 
an  environmeni  in  which  the  mind  and  spirit 
can  llourisb  and  iise  to  new  heights  ol  achieve- 
ment. To  do  this,  a  leader  needs  that  sense  <»l 
history  which  was  always  a  part  of  the  thinking 


ol  such  men  as  Franklin  1).  Rooseveh  and  Win- 
ston Churchill.  A  mayoi  docs  nol  come  to  office 
to  preside  ovei  the  dissolution  ol  his  cit\,  am 
more  than  Churchill  became  prime  minister  to 
preside  ovei  the  dissolution  ol  the  British 
Empire.  He  must  be  proud  o!  his  city's  past  and 
anxious  to  pla\  his  part  in  its  future.  And  in  his 
daily  life  he  must  make  it  clear  that  he  has  not— 
in  Tocqueville's  phrase  "acquired  the  siipie-me- 
powei  onl\  (o  administei  to  .  .  .  coarse-  or  paltry 
pleasures."  In  short,  when  ridding  Philadelphia 
ol  corruption  it  was  also  necessary  to  rid  it  ol 
contentment. 

rogethei  with  this  sense-  ol  history,  a  good 
political  leader  must  have-  the  ability  to  look 
ahead  loi  the  best  way  to  the  ideal  future  ol  his 
cit\.  Then,  when  he  has  discerned  it  as  clearly 
as  he  can.  he  must  try  to  lead  his  community  a 
short  distance  in  the  right  direction— remember- 
ing that  it  is  his  high  duty  to  bring  out  the  best 
in  that  imperfect  and  imperfectible  being  who  is 
created  nonetheless  in  Cod's  image:  Man,  on 
whose  support  his  claim  to  leadership  depends. 


OF  CATS  bv  Ted  Hughes 


THAT  man's  subconscious   mind    is   constituted 

Entirely  ol  cats,  no  wise  man  for  an  instant  disbelieves— 

Lather  to  daughter,  mother  to  son  inherited 

(Whereby   the   least  ol   cats  gets  fully   nine   lives). 

But   these  cats  are  strange  cats:   scruff  cats,   queenly   cats, 

(Crowned   too),   they    jig   to   violins   or  go   staleh 

In   a   vast  processional   pageantry   that  celebrates 

A  burial,  or  crowning  (of  a  cat);  or  may  sing  sweetly 

Indeed  at  your  ears  and  in   harmony  left   with  right 

Till  the  moon  bemoods  them:   then,  to  the  new.  oi    the  full, 

Only  look  up— taking  possession  of  night 

Cattic  Bacchanal!   a  world  of  wild   lamps  and  wauling, 

And  darkness  and  light  a  cat  upon  a  cat. 

One   who,   one   nightfall. 
Sank  a  cat  in   a  sack  with  a  stone  to  the  bottom  of  a  canal 
(Under  the  bridge,  in  the  belly  of  the  black)  and  hurried   a   mile  home- 
Found  that  cat  on   the  doorstep  waiting  for  him. 

So  are  we   all   held    in    utter  mock   by   the   cats. 

Envoi 

A  eat  on  a  shop  doorstep  gazes  steadily  through  the  thick 

Street-width    of    legs,    wheels,    exhaust:    deep    in    his    centuries    as    in    cushions. 

From  a  shop  doorstep  a  cat  returns  her  look: 

Thus,  in  the  clutter  of  your  brain,   the  eternals  make  their  assignations. 


Harper's  Magazine,  ////;*    195& 


By   LEO   ROSTEN 

Drawings  by  Robert  Osbom 


The  Lunar  World  of 

GROUCHO  MARX 


Groucho,  the  ad-libber's  ad-libber, 

is  a  social  critic  at  heart.  ...  A  man  of 

gentle  ways  and  viperish  tongue,  he  has  an  eye 

for  the  phony  as  penetrating  as  X-ray. 


AN  Y  social  historian  who  tries  to  capture 
the  spirit  of  our  weird  and  wonderful  time, 
will  forfeit  his  credibility— in  my  eyes  at  least— 
if  he  ignores  the  social  criticism  which  Julius 
Marx  has  strewn  through  three  decades  of  our 
lives.  I  do  not  mean  the  puns,  epigrams,  and 
galloping  now.  sequiturs  with  which  Mr.  Marx 
garnishes  his  television  program.  1  mean  the 
mordant  running  commentary  he  has  directed 
against  the  mores,  the  foibles,  and  the  idiocies 
of  our  civilization. 

Mr.  Marx,  one  of  the  truly  original  minds  of 
the  twentieth  century,  is  a  comedian  only  by 
profession.  He  is  a  logician  in  temperament  and 
a  satirist  in  practice.  He  is  the  only  actor  I  have 
ever  known  who  was  meant  to  be  an  intellectual. 
He  has  an  infallible  and  rapacious  instinct  for 
the  phony  and  the  pretentious.  He  conducts  a 
merciless  one-man  war  against  bombast,  deceit, 
and  prudery.   And  he  does  it  with  a  precision  of 


language  and  a  deadliness  of  insight  which  make 
the  social  commentary  of  the  other  Marx  sound 
like  the  mumblings  of  an  elephant.  The  differ- 
ence between  Groucho  and  Karl  is  the  difference 
between  the  rapier  and  the  shovel. 

It  is  an  index  of  the  low  state  of  our  per- 
spicacity that  we  have  been  bamboozled  into 
thinking:  of  Groucho  as  a  clown.  He  is  as  much 
of  a  buffoon  as  Swift  or  Rochefoucauld. 

Those  who  sniff  in  disdain  at  this  point  might 
ponder  the  remark  which  Marx  made  during  the 
last  war  (the  last  world  war,  that  is;  there  have 
been  some  ten  exercises  in  bi-national  lunacy 
since  V-J  Day),  when  he  was  scheduled  to  enter- 
tain the  troops  at  an  American  Army  post.  He 
was  waiting  in  the  general's  office,  when  the 
phone  rang.  Marx  picked  up  the  receiver  and 
crooned:   "World  War  Two-oo." 

No  apostle  of  civil  rights  ever  put  his  case  as 
succinctly  as  Marx  did  when  he  (a  Jew,  married 
to  a  woman  who  wasn't)  expressed  interest  in 
swimming  at  a  certain  beach  in  southern  Cali- 
fornia and  was  told  that  in  order  to  use  that 
particular  beach  he  would  have  to  be  a  member 
of  a  particular  club. 

"And  Groucho,"  a  friend  said  uneasily,  "you 
don't  want  to  apply  for  membership  in  that 
beach  club." 

"Why  not?"  asked  Marx. 


32 


THE      I    I    \   \  l<      WORLD     OF     GKOl'CIIO     MARX 


"Well,  frankl)    the)  're  anl  i  Semitic ." 
I  o  which  Marx  replied:  "Will  the)  lei  m\  son 
go  into  the  watei   up  to  his  knees?" 

Or  considei  the  coup  de  grace  he  administered 
to  a  dub  From  which  he  resigned  with  these 
winds:  "I  do  not  wish  to  belong  to  the  kind  of 
club  that  accepts  people  like  me  .is  members." 
I  leave  ii  to  logical  positivists  to  figure  out  what 
kind  of  club  ;i  man  ol  such  refined  sensibilities 
can  join,  and  I  recommend  the  remark  to 
those  scholars  who  think  Zeno's  paradoxes  in- 
soluble. 

It  has  been  m\  good  fortune  to  observe  (his 
ii  in. in  in  the  flesh  .n  scattered  intervals  for 
ovei  fifteen  years.  I  have  l>\  no  means  been  ac- 
corded the  accolade  ol  intimate  friendship,  bul 
I  have  often  been  his  dinnei  guesi  and,  more 
frequently,  his  "pigeon"— which  is  theater  argot 
for  anyone  who  is  a  suckei  foi  dead  pan  badinage. 

In  person,  Mr.  Marx  is  .1  soli  spoken  gentle- 
man, dry  in  mannei  and  surprisingly  gentle,  who 
moves  slowly  and  regards  the  world  with  con- 
spicuous skepticism.  He  c\ndcs  disenchantment 
—with  the  state  ol  the  nation,  the  plight  ol  the 
aiis.  and  ilit  soii\  record  ol  the  human  race.  He 
is  deepl)  interested  in  politics  bul  given  to  no 
hero  worship  ol  politicians.  Like  all  greal  comi< 
talents,  he  is  discont<  nted  with  the  role  in  which 
fate  has  c.isi  him.  He  wanted  to  he  a  doctor.  He 
is  in  awe  of  learning,  writers,  thinkers,  and 
belles-lettres.  He  thinks  ;i  career  spent  in  elicit- 
ing laughtei  not  especially  laudable— and  cer- 
tainly  nol  as  noble  as  .1  life  spent  in  writing 
hooks,  healing  the  -dek.  or  advancing  the 
frontiers  ol  knowledge. 

His   uncle  was   Al   Shean,   of   the   memorable 


Films  Like  "I  was  a  Teen-age 
Werewolf"  for  Example? 


H 


oil  Y  W  O  O  D  ,  March  24-Bob  Hope 
reviewed  his  six-da)  trip  to  Moscow  to- 
day,   enthusiastic    over    "the    wonderful 

treatment"  he  had  received  there.  .  .  . 

"I  found  them  very  anxious  to  estab- 
lish trade  relations  with  us  for  motion 
pictures  and  I  can  see  no  reason  why 
we  shouldn't,  (.el  the  pictures  in  there 
and  let  them  see  how  we  live,"  he 
observed. 

—Oscar    Godbout,    in    the    New    York 

Tun,;.    March    25,    1958. 


Gallagher  and  Shean  act.  Marx's  mother,  a 
woman  ol  prodigious  enterprise  and  fanatical 
confidence  in  her  brood,  put  all  five  ol  her  sons 
into  show  business  ai  a  tender  age.  The  five 
shrank  u>  the  Foui  \laix  Brothers,  and  adopted 
stag<  names  ol  faultless  acuity:  Groucho,  because 
he  nevei  laughed  and  dripped  pessimism;  Chico, 
the  irreverent  card-sharp  and  pianist;  Harpo,  ol 
the-  angeli<  chords  and  lecherous  goals;  and 
Zeppo,  who  had  the  profile  ol  Vpollo  and  an 
incapacit)  to  progress  beyond  the  "straight  lines" 
he  fed  his  zan)  brethren.  The)  became  the  greal 
est  clowns  in  vaudeville.  Groucho  became  iis 
Voltaire. 


I     MIECONSTHI CTED     FRE K M V. N 

TA  K  |-  tin'  time  Marx  put  the  premises  ol 
immigration  polic)  to  the  acid  test.  Driv- 
ing hack  from  Mexico,  he  was.  like  hundreds  ol 
others,  stopped  al  the  California  border.  The 
immigration  satrap  asked  him  the  same  questions 
thai  are  asked  a  million  times  a  month  through- 
out the  border-lined  world.  "Are  you  a  citizen?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Marx. 

"Hirthplac  e?" 

"New   York." 

"<  )c  c  upal  ion?" 

"Smuggler." 

It  should  he  obvious  that  Mr.  Mux  has  a 
mind  ol  blinding  clarity,  exceptional  rigor,  and 
electionic  speed.  He  believes  in  truth.  He  be- 
lieves in  reason.  He  is  the  last  unreconstructed 
freeman  since    II.  I..  Mencken. 

Marx  abhors  the  affectations  which  parade  as 
manners.  A  dowager  omc  violated  his  privacy, 
while  lie  was  dining  at  the  Brown  Derby,  to  gush: 
"Oh,  do  pardon  me— but  are  you  Groucho 
Marx?" 

"No,"  said   .Marx,  "are;  you?" 

When  a  tippler  slapped  him  on  the  back  with 
the  100  per  cent  American  gambit,  "Groucho, 
you  old  son-of-a-gun,  you  probably  don't  remem- 
ber me,"  Marx  fixed  the  poltroon  with  his  wall- 
eyed glare  and  declaimed:  "I  never  forget  a  lace 
—but  in  youi  ease  I'll  he  glad  to  make  an  excep- 
tion." 

When  a  curvaceous  actress  tried  to  Uaiter  him 
with  nauseous  phrases  and  murmured  seductively, 
"You're  a  man  alter  my  heart,"  Marx  leered, 
"That's  not  all  I'm  alter."  And  he  left  one 
dreary  dinner  party  by  telling  his  hostess,  "Don't 
think  this  hasn't  been  a  dull  evening,  because  it 
has." 

No  idols  escape.  In  1918,  when  Dr.  Gallup 
statisticated   that  Governor  Dewey  would   walk 


BY     LEO     ROSTEN 


33 


all  over  Harry  Truman  at  the  polls,  and  the 
voters  proved  the  reverse,  Marx  issued  his  own 
post-mortem:  "The  only  way  a  Republican  is  go- 
ing to  get  into  the  White  House  is  by  marrying 
Margaret." 

SOME     KIND     OF     HIGH     PRIEST 

HE  I  S  as  implacable  in  exposing  quacks  as 
he  is  in  puncturing  pretensions.  Some 
years  ago  the  natives  of  Hollywood  were  falling 
for  the  "supernatural  powers"  of  a  spiritualist 
who  was  cashing  in  on  seances  for  the  gullible. 
This  sorceress  might  still  be  plying  her  occult 
wiles  had  not  some  friends  challenged  Marx,  who 
listened  to  their  reports  with  icy  skepticism,  to 
attend  a  seance  and  appraise  the  psychic's 
wizardry  for  himself.  Marx  went.  He  sat  silent 
and  baleful  through  a  demonstration  in  which 
the  spiritualist  broke  the  barrier  between  those 
who  are  here  and  those  who  are  hereafter, 
answered  the  most  difficult  questions  with 
aplomb,  revealed  awesome  secrets  from  beyond 
the  grave,  advised,  warned,  instructed,  and  up- 
lifted. After  two  hours  of  exhausting  omnis- 
cience, the  seeress  intoned,  "Now  my  spirit  grows 
weary.  Our  journey  into  the  unknown  draws 
to  a  close.  There  is  time  for— for  only  one  more 
question." 

Marx  asked  it:  "What's  the  capital  of  South 
Dakota?" 


I  suppose  that  what  most  deeply  gratifies  us 
in  Marx's  wit,  apart  from  its  deadly  acumen,  is 
its  unabashed  directness.  He  says  things  most  of 
us  dare  not  think,  much  less  utter.  But  he  is 
more  than  a  master  of  insult;  he  is  the  high 
priest  of  rationalism. 

In  my  book,  Marx  is  the  most  incorruptible 
skeptic  alive,  and  the  most  deft  practitioner  of 
the  reductio  ad  absurdum  ("I'd  horsewhip  you— 
if  I  had  a  horse").  His  wit  is  pure  surrealism;  it 
frees  our  mind  from  bondage  to  the  literal.  He 
once  asked  a  professional  wrestler  if  it  is  true 
that  the  grunt-and-groan  matches  are  fixed.  The 
gladiator  replied  archly,  "That's  just  a  dirty 
rumor." 


"How  many  dirty  rumors  have  you  wrestled 
lately?"  asked  Marx. 

He  is  ruthless  with  the  fraudulent  friendliness 
of  business  practice.  When  a  bank  sent  him  an 
effusive  form  letter,  ending  with  the  obligatory 
sentiment:  "If  we  can  ever  be  of  any  assistance, 
do  not  hesitate  to  call  on  us,"  Marx  did  not 
hesitate  to  reply: 

Gentlemen: 

The  best  assistance  you  can  give  me  is  to 
steal  some  money  from  the  account  of  one  of 
your  richer  clients  and  credit  it  to  mine. 

Groucho  Marx 

He  loathes  back-scratching,  in  or  out  of  busi- 
ness. He  once  wrote  Arthur  Murray,  the  ball- 
room pedagogue:  "When  an  actor  mentions  a 
product  on  a  program,  it  has  become  customary 
for  the  manufacturer  to  show  his  appreciation  by 
sending  a  gift-in-kind.  If  I  were  to  mention  Old 
Taylor  on  my  show,  for  example,  they  would 
send  me  a  case  of  bourbon.  Well,  I  am  going  to 
mention  the  Arthur  Murray  dancers  on  next 
week's  program.  Will  you  therefore  please  send 
me  a  medium-sized  dancing  girl,  about  5'  2",  with 
the  customary  measurements.  I  am  not  particular 
what  kind  of  hair  she  has,  as  long  as  she  has 
hair." 

And  when  Variety  editorialized  that  the  Marx 
Brothers  could  earn  $20,000  a  week  if  they  would 
only  work  together  again,  Marx  wrote  the  editor 
as  follows: 

Dear  Sir: 

Apparently  you  are  under  the  impression 
that  the  only  thing  that  matters  in  this  world 
is  money.   That  is  quite  true. 

Groucho  Marx 

A  master  of  verbal  ambush,  he  uses  frontal 
artillery  on  the  trite.  He  startles  the  literal- 
minded  with  comments  such  as:  "I  was  always 
awkward,  even  as  a  young  girl."  Or,  "Certainly 
my  mustache  is  real;  it  belongs  to  my  maid."  Or, 
"I  want  to  apologize  for  not  returning  your  call. 
I've  been  so  busy  not  returning  calls  that  I  just 
couldn't  get  around  to  not  returning  yours  in 
time." 

His  comedy  of  complaint  would  have  delighted 
Dickens,  or  Sholom  Aleichem.  During  a  low 
spot  in  his  career,  he  told  a  friend:  "I  am  up 
to  my  ears— in  activities  that  don't  bring  in  a 
dime.  Last  week,  I  did  a  show  for  the  Army- 
free.  Then  I  auditioned  for  radio-no  money. 
Then  I  wrote  a  guest  column— gratis.  Today  I'm 
recording  a  speech  for  the  Heart  Fund  in  Chi- 
cago. The  only  thing  I  can  get  out  of  that  is  that 


34 


THE     LUNAR     WORLD     OF     G  R  O  U  C H  O     MARX 


someday  I  may  be  lucky  enough  to  have  a  heart 
attack  in  the  Loop." 

Groucho  Marx  possesses  the  rare  lacultv  ol 
hearing  with  originality.  One  night,  while  lie 
was  driving  me  to  a  preview,  I  suddenly  remem- 
bered that  it  was  m\  lather's  birthday.  'Would 
you  mind  stopping  at  a  Western  Union  office?" 
I    asked.    "I   want   to  wire  my   lather." 

"What's  tlie  matter?"  inquired  the  master. 
(  .iii'i  he  stand  by  himself?" 

When  a  girl  on  one  of  his  programs  said,  "I'm 
from  Australia.  I  (lew  here,  by  plain.  Marx 
sighed,  "A  girl  would  be  a  fool  to  try  it  any  other 
way." 

He  detests  sentimentality.  He  once  introduced 
S.  J.  Perelman,  no  tyro  in  the  sehi/ophrenic 
league,  at  a  banquet  in  his  honor:  "Our  speaker 
is  .1  man  who  has  not  let  success  go  to  his  head. 
He  is  unassuming,  unspoiled,  as  comfortable  to 
be  with  as  an  old  shoe— and  just  about  as  inter- 
esting." 

THE     ART     OF     THE     AD-LIB 

HI  I  S  the  one  man  I  know  whom  it  is 
suicide  to  banter  with.  During  the  \eais 
that  the  Marx  Brothers  casl  their  luster  on  the 
stage  ("Coconuts,"  "Animal  Crackers,"  "I'll  Say 
She  Is"),  Groucho's  siblings  often  tried  to  throw 
him  off-balance  with  outlandish  ad-libs.  Once, 
while  Groucho  was  in  the  middle  of  a  love  scene 
with  Margaret  Dumont,  the  memorable  grattde 
dame  with  the  Social  Register  bosom,  brother 
Chico  suddenly  appeared  on  stage  to  announce, 
"The  garbage  man  is  here." 

"Tell  him  we  don't  want  any,"  said  Groucho. 

In  another  play,  in  which  Groucho  played 
Napoleon  with  a  contempt  that  taught  me  more 
about  the  mighty  than  Carlyle's  Heroes  and 
Hero  Worship,  brother  Zeppo,  in  the  wings,  blew 
the  opening  chords  of  the  "Marseillaise"  and 
cried,  "Our  national  anthem— the  Mayonnaise!" 
Groucho  rose,  saying,  "The  army  must  be  dress- 
ing." It  was  on  a  New  York  stage  that  Marx, 
leeling  an  actor's  pulse,  scaled  Parnassus  with  the 
line:  "Either  this  man  is  dead  or  my  watch  has 
stopped." 

He  can  push  puns  to  the  fine  edge  of  dementia. 
In  the  middle  of  a  discussion  of  football,  Marx 
remarked:  "I  have  been  studying  the  Notre  Dame 
line-up  and  discover  there  is  only  one  Irishman 
on  the  team,  and  his  mother  is  a  Pole— a  ten-foot 
pole,  in  fact.  They  are  the  best  kind  for  football, 
because  when  they  die  they  die  by  inches— so  it 
takes  them  that  much  longer  to  kick  off." 

He  toys  with  ideas  the  way  a  mathematician 


plays  with  a  slide  rule.  He  once  asked  a  friend, 
"Hcrtv  did  you   like    my   show    last   night?" 

"1  only  (aught  the  first  ten  minutes,"  said  tin 
h  k  iid  sheepishly.  "1  was  (  ailed  to  the  studio " 

"A  fine  friend  you've  turned  out  to  be,"  Marx 
said.  /  listened  to  the  whole  program  from  start 
to  finish.   That's  the  kind  ol  friend  /  am." 

When  an  aspiring  actress  asked  his  advice  on 
how  to  win  lame  in  the  theater,  Marx,  appalled 
by  the  invitation  to  pomposity,  replied,  "My 
advice  to  you  and  to  all  struggling  actresses,  is 
this:  Keep  struggling.  II  you  keep  struggling, 
you  won't  get  into  trouble— and  if  you  don't  get 
into  trouble,  you'll  never  be  much  of  an  actress." 

Marx  loves  baseball,  but  this  does  not  seduce 
him  into  tolerating  lor  an  instant  those  whose 
eyes  well  up  when  discussing  "our  national 
pastime."  I  was  his  guest  once  at  Hollvwood 
Stadium  during  a  night  game.  My  concentration 
on  the  contest  was  undermined  by  the  antiseptic 
.isides  which  Marx  uttered  throughout  the  nine 
innings.  When  one  batter  poked  feebly  at  an 
outside  curve,  Marx  shouted,  "You  haven't 
enough  strength  to  beat  your  wife!"  When  the 
home-team  pitcher  was  yanked  and  began  his  sad 
tick  to  the  showers,  Marx  rose,  put  his  beret 
over  his  heart,  and  bowed  his  head  in  thirty  sec- 
onds of  silence.  When  the  second  baseman  (who 
had  struck  out,  popped  out,  and  grounded  out) 
finally  managed  to  get  a  base  on  balls  and  ad- 
vanced to  second  on  another  walk,  Marx  said 
bitterly,  "That's  the  first  time  tonight  that  guy 
has  been  on  second  without  his  glove." 

Marx  was  once  dragooned  into  managing  the 
movie  Comedians  in  their  annual  charity  match 
against  the  Actors.  He  told  Jack  Benny  to  lead 
off. 

"All  right,  Benny.  Get  up  there  and  hit  a 
home  run."   Benny  struck  out.   Marx  resigned. 

"I  can't  manage  a  team  that  won't  follow  in- 
structions." 


AT     HOME     WITH     A     GUITAR 

BEHIND  the  acidulous  wit  and  scorn, 
Marx— like  most  humorists— is  a  serious, 
sensitive,  somewhat  depressed  man.  He  lives  a 
epiiet  life,  adores  Gilbert  and  Sullivan,  whose 
lyrics  he  can  sing  by  the  hour,  accompanying 
himself  on  a  guitar,  and  prefers  reading  to 
raillery. 

I  have  never  heard  him  tell  a  joke  or  "funny 
story"  or  utter  a  wisecrack  other  than  his  own. 
I  have  also  never  heard  him  laugh;  he  smiles, 
with  singular  gentleness,  at  the  comedy  of  others. 

Marx's  wit  is  a  masterful  series  of  exercises  in 


Harper'',  Magazine,  June  1958 


BY     LEO     ROSTEN 


35 


dementia  praecox.  His  humor  may  well  be, 
as  it  is  with  most  comedians,  ah  unconscious 
defense  against  internal  depression.  He  creates 
dialectical  straw  men  whom  he  annihilates  with 
lunar  logic.  He  is  ferociously  adept  in  setting  up 
verbal  contexts  within  which  his  listeners  cannot 
be  sure  whether  he  is  serious  or  satiric,  and  do 
not  know  whether  to  respond  with  gravity  or 
laughter.  He  aims  a  murderous  barrage  of  irony 
from  behind  an  ingenuous  facade  of  banter. 

The  bite  which  underlies  his  humor  often 
turns  on  him,  or  on  whoever  is  nearby,  in  a 
way  the  Freudians  would  call  compulsive.  When 
in  a  mood  of  melancholy,  which  casts  a  blight 
of  disenchantment-  on  even  his  phenomenal 
success,  Marx  acts  as  if  he  cannot  control  the 
machinery  of  his  wit,  like  an  IBM  machine 
which  has  been  set  for  ridicule  and  cannot  stop. 
He  will  turn  any  line,  any  phrase,  any  name, 
any  monosyllable  into  persiflage.  It  is  dazzling 
—but  it  is  too  much.  He  has  been  known  to 
bombard  friends  with  such  a  barrage  of  puns, 
cracks,  and  non  sequitnrs  that  conversation  is 
difficult  and  rapport  overwhelmed. 

During  his  early  days  in  radio,  Mr.  Marx  was 
criticized  for  being  too  sharp  in  his  humor,  too 
rough  on  his  contestants.  I  think  he  could  not 
abide    the    mediocrity    of    his    "guests"    or    the 


abysmal  poverty  of  their  mental  processes.  He 
did  not  hesitate  to  mock  some  of  the  more 
hallowed  institutions  in  American  life:  Mother, 
Home,  Our  Leaders.  He  asked  one  member  of 
the  House  of  Representatives,  whose  hunger  for 
publicity  was  so  great  that  he  volunteered  for 
"You  Bet  Your  Life,"  "What  do  you  do  for  a 
living?" 

"I'm  in  Congress." 

"How  long  have  you  been  incongruous?"  Marx 
asked. 

His  television  show,  "You  Bet  Your  Life,"  is 
filmed  and  carefully  edited  before  exposure  to 
the  public  eye.  The  dull  passages,  in  which  the 
contestants  ramble,  or  in  which  Marx  ad-libs 
too-barbed  remarks,  are  cut  out.  The  masses 
would  never  stand  for  pure,  unadulterated 
Marxism. 

Marx  has  mellowed  in  recent  years.  At  sixty- 
three,  he  has  learned  to  accept  security.  He  says 
he  will  never  again  appear  in  movies:  "It's  too 
hard." 

Television  has  showered  him  with  lucre  and 
honors  and  has  made  minimal  demands  on 
his  energies.  But  it  can  never  be  the  medium  in 
which  this  considerable  artist  can  find  full  free- 
dom to  puncture  the  follies  of  the  world  he 
surveys  with  so  unerring  and  ironic  an  eye. 


AUGEIAS  AND  I       by  Robert  Graves 


now  like  the  cattle  byre  of  Augeias 

My  work-room,   Hercules,  calls  for  the  flood 

Of  Alpheus  and  Peneius,  green  as  glass, 
To  hurtle  down  in  catastrophic  mood 

And  free  me  from  accumulated  piles 

Of  books,  trays,  journals,  bulging  letter-files. 

In  memory  often,  I  remount  the  stairs 
To  that  top  room  where  once  a  sugar-case 

Served  me  for  chair— the  house  was  poor  in  chairs— 
A  broken  wash-stand  lent  me  writing  space, 

And  one  wax-candle  cast  a  meager  light; 

Where  all  I  wrote  was  what  I  itched  to  write. 

Augeias,  though,  if  he  had  dunged  the  trees, 
Cornland,  and  pot-herb  garden  studiously, 

Would  not  have  needed  help  from  Hercules; 
We  stand  accused  of  careless  husbandry 

When  nothing  less  than  floods  or  cleansing  fire 

Can  purge  my  work-room  and  his  cattle  byre. 


Copyright   ©    1957   by   Robert   Graves 


The  Gang  That  Went  Good 


.  .  .  and  the  boys  lav  inert  on  the  cross 
of  a  yawn  and  stretched  muscle. 

— Lorca's   The  King  of  Harlem 


By   DAN   WAKEFIELD 
Drawings  by  Charles  If  .   Walker 

A  tough  bunch  of  New  \ork  teen-agers  are 

trying  a  perilous  and  uncertain  experiment 

— which,  if  it  works,  may  save  them  from  the 

crime  and  violence  which  have  become  the 
"normal"  way  of  life  in  their  neighborhood. 

BETWEEN  a  plumbing  and  heating  sup- 
ply store  and  the  Veteran  Bar  and  dill  on 
New  York's  upper  First  Avenue  is  a  boarded 
store-front  painted  black  and  covered  with  silver 
prints  of  hands.  There  is  no  other  mark  of 
identification,  unless  the  dooi  swings  open  and 
the  sign  that  says  Members  Om.\  states  with  its 
high  silver  letters  at  the  street. 

Any  passer-by  from  the  neighborhood  knows 
that  the  sign,  though  not  inviting,  is  at  least  not 
menacing.  This  is  the  clubhouse,  the  home,  and 
the  hope,  of  a  teen-age  gang  that  lias  given  up 
lighting  and  "gone  social"  in  a  world  of  poverty 
and  violence.  The  gang  (now  the  "club")  is  com- 
posed mainly  of  Puerto  Ricans,  but  also  in- 
cludes   some    Negroes    and    several    Italian    and 


Jewish  boys.  They  call  themselves  The  Con- 
servatives. 

In  another  neighborhood,  The  Conservatives 
might  be  the  name  of  a  political  club,  but  in 
the  precincts  that  (over  the  east  side  of  Harlem, 
it  is  much  more  suited  to  a  teen-age  gang  that 
has  changed  iis  ways.  Questions  of  politics  seem 
far  removed  from  the  life  of  the  district,  but  the 
"New  Conservatism"  of  tire  kids  is  a  burning 
issue  that  is  met  every  day:  preservation  of  lile 
in  a  neighborhood  with  a  tradition  ol  violence. 
The  gangs  are  only  one  part  of  that  tradition, 
which  was  born  when  the  neighborhood  began 
to  decay  into  what  is  now  considered  one  of  the 
world's  worst  shuns.  The  answers  ol  violence 
were  passed  on  from  strangers  who  speak  Italian 
and  strangers  who  speak  Russian  to  strangers 
who  speak  Spanish. 

A  young  father  born  to  this  neighborhood  of 
parents  who  came  from  the  narrow  and  settled 
streets  ol  San   fuan,  explained: 

"You  even  get  used  to  it,  man.  It  don't  get  to 
you  unless  it's  someone  right  in  the  family  who's 
the  one  that  gets  hurt.  There  isn't  as  much  gang- 
fighting  now  as  there  used  to  be  but  it  still  goes 
on,  and  so  does  the  regular  killing,  besides  the 
gang  stuff.  People  think  all  that  stuff  was  over 
in  the  'twenties  with  machine  guns  shooting  out 
of  cars  and  all  that,  but  it's  still  really  here— 
it's  just  got  more  under  cover.   You  can  still  get 


BY     DAN     WAKEFIELD 


37 


a  guy  killed  anytime.  You  hire  a  kid  who's  high 
and  you  promise  him  a  fix.  For  a  fix,  he'll  do 
anything.  Then,  if  you  want  to  make  sure  no- 
body knows  about  it  afterward,  you  give  him  an 
overdose  and  that  does  it.  They  call  it  suicide." 
A  mother  who  has  three  daughters  agreed,  and 
added:  "Yes,  there  are  times  when  you  see  a 
car  pull  up  and  they  push  out  a  girl  all  beat  up 
and  her  clothes  torn.  After  a  while  you  get  used 
to  seeing  it— violence.  The  thing  you  learn,  the 
first  thing  you  learn  is  'I  didn't  see  anything.' 
No  matter  where  you  were  or  what  happened, 
you  didn't  see  anything." 

A     LIVING     BATMAN 

SOMETIMES  the  people  who  live  in  it 
call  East  Harlem  "The  Jungle,"  and  that  is 
its  law— you  didn't  see  anything.  When  you 
really  don't  see  it,  you  hear  about  it  later.  There 
is  always  a  story  of  violence  past  or  the  threat  of 
violence  to  come.  Some  people  make  a  living 
from  it,  and  some  make  a  living  from  its  by- 
product—fear. 

For  several  years  in  the  'forties  the  neighbor- 
hood was  plagued  by  "The  Batman."  The  Bat- 
man appeared  on  roofs  of  tenements,  stretching 
his  great,  black  arms,  extending  his  terrible  claws, 
and  then  running  off  to  another  roof  or  down  a 
fire  escape— some  people  swore  he  flew  away.  He 
robbed  apartments,  and  the  times  that  brave 
souls  gave  him  chase  he  stopped  and  stretched 
out  his  winglike  arms,  and  few  men  were  ready 
to  follow.  Parents  told  children  that  the  Batman 
would  come  off  the  roofs  and  carry  them  away 
if  they  were  bad.  Once  the  police  saw  the  Bat- 
man and  finally  caught  him— not  a  bat  at  all  but 
a  man  with  a  large  imagination  and  a  large  black 
cloak  and  two  small  garden  rakes  with  clawlike 
prongs.  Every  American  neighborhood  has  its 
imaginary  witches,  and  its  Batman  summoned 
by  mothers  to  discipline  the  kids— but  in  Harlem 
the  Batman  is  real,  and  adults  do  not  chase  him. 
Nor  do  adults  chase  the  kids  of  the  teen-age 
gangs.  The  gangs  in  many  ways  are  born  of  the 
neighborhood  fear,  and  they  compound  it,  leav- 
ing their  own  particular  scars,  inside  and  out. 
Alicia,  a  frail,  dark-haired  girl  of  thirteen  who 
looks  much  younger,  came  to  ask  a  friend's 
advice  about  a  girl  who  was  living  in  terror 
of  a  gang.  The  girl,  Alicia's  friend  in  school, 
had  been  going  out  with  a  boy  from  a  gang. 
One  night  she  went  out  with  a  boy  from  up 
the  street  who  was  not  in  the  gang.  The  old 
boy  friend's  gang  came  and  got  her  and  took  her 
to  the  East  River  and  picked  her  up  and  said 


they  were  going  to  throw  her  in.  She  screamed 
and  cried  and  they  put  her  down,  but  told  her 
that  if  she  wasn't  careful  they  would  get  her 
again  and  really  throw  her  in  the  river. 

"She  is  sick  all  the  time  now,"  Alicia  said. 
"She's  scared  they'll  throw  her  in  the  river,  and 
she  gets  all  out  of  breath  sometimes,  like  she's 
having  a  heart  attack  or  something." 

The  grownups  understand  that  these  kids  are 
different  from  other  kids.  A  man  stood  across 
the  street  from  the  silver-and-black  painted  store- 
front that  marks  the  home  of  The  Conservatives 
Club,  watching  the  boys  go  in  for  pool,  and  said, 
as  if  in  admission  and  discovery,  "You  know,  we 
call  them  kids,  just  because  they  happen  to  be  a 
certain  age— fourteen  or  fifteen  or  sixteen— but 
they're  not  kids.   They've  seen  too  much." 

This  was  the  essence  of  the  difficult  decision 
the  gang  made  to  give  up  fighting  and  become 
Conservatives— they  had  seen  too  much.  Most  of 
them  were  members  of  an  old  and  greatly  feared 
gang  called  The  Enchanters.  In  the  fall  of  1956 
the  simple  fact  was  that  all  the  old  leaders  were 
either  dead,  in  jail,  in  New  York's  narcotics  hos- 
pital, or  moved  away.  A  few  of  the  oldest 
veterans  who  were  left  (ages  seventeen  and 
eighteen)  found  themselves  leaders  by  virtue  of 
survival.  Their  first  concern  was  to  continue  to 
survive,  for  the  gang  was  greatly  weakened  and 
rival  gangs  still  were  strong.  An  eighteen-year- 
old  boy  named  "Monk"  Wescott,  and  several 
other  weary  veterans,  decided  that  the  best  thing 
to  do  was  give  up  fighting  and  "go  social."  But 
the  problem  was  how  to  do  it. 

Monk  and  several  other  veterans  went  to 
Ramon  Diaz,  a  man  on  the  block  who  always  had 
answers.  As  a  young  man  in  his  early  twenties, 
Ramon  came  from  Puerto  Rico  on  a  pilgrimage 
to  the  Bahai  temple  in  Chicago  and  stopped  off 
in  New  York  on  the  way.  That  was  about  eight 
years  ago,  and  he  still  hasn't  left.  He  worked  on 
and  off  around  the  neighborhood  as  a  helper  in 
a  law  office,  a  furniture  store,  and  a  campaign 
for  the  state  Assembly.  He  soon  became  a  fa- 
miliar figure,  not  so  much  for  whatever  work  it 
was  he  happened  to  be  doing  but  rather  for  the 
fact  that  he  "knew  everyone."  Wherever  he 
happens  to  be,  Ramon  is  The  Insider.  He  moves 
through  the  neighborhood  always  in  a  hurry  but 
always  at  ease,  and  his  high-cheeked,  light  tan 
face— usually  topped  with  a  natty  cap  that  he  is 
quick  to  tip  to  the  ladies— breaks  quite  readily 
into  a  broad,  white  smile. 

When  the  guys  from  The  Enchanters  asked 
Ramon  to  help  them  figure  out  how  to  go  social, 
Ramon  took  it  with  a  grain  of  salt. 


38 


THE     (.  \\(.     THAT     WENT     GOOD 


"I  told  them  go  way-  you  u11^  don't  mean  it." 

But  the)  kept  on  pestering  Ramon  and  plead- 
ing with  him.  He  asked  them  why  thev  wanted 
to  change,  and  one  of  them  explained: 

"We  are  in  so  main   troubles.'' 

Finally  Ramon  went  to  Norman  Eddy,  who 
lives  on  the  block  and  is  a  pastor  ol  the  I  .ist 
Harlem  Protestant   Palish,  and  asked  il   (lie  gang 

could  use  the  church  foi  some  meetings  to  disc  uss 

going  social.  The  request  was  granted,  though 
against  the  wishes  ol  some  ol  the  members  ol 
i  In  (lunch,  who  knew  the  gang's  history  and  had 
little  faith  in  its  future  intentions. 


THE     ENCHANTERS     AT     WAR 

TH  E  Enchanters  began  in  the  postwar  era 
ol  growing  teen-age  gang  activity  through- 
out New  York.  In  the  early  'fillies  they  had  a 
total  of  seven  "divisions"  in  the  neighborhood, 
grouped  according  to  age— from  nine  to  twenty, 
with  classifications  such  as  "Tiny  Tots,"  "Mighty 
Mites,"  "Juniors,"  and  "Seniors."  Their  legend 
and  influence  spread  through  the  other  parts  of 
New  York  and  across  the  river  into  Jersey. 
Branches  of  Enchanters  grew  in  the  Bronx,  in 
Brooklyn,  in  Hoboken;  their  lower  Manhattan 
arm  still  exists  as  one  of  the  most  active  fight- 
ing gangs  of  the  city.  As  one  grown  veteran 
explained  the  days  of  power,  "Man,  The  En- 
(  banters  weren't  a  gang— they  were  an  organiza- 
tion." A  member  could  pass  in  acceptance  to 
many  far  worlds  in  that  era  of  empire.  The 
eighteen-year-old  leader,  Count  Benny,  on  103rd 
Street,  was  Caesar  in  a  slum-scarred  Rome. 

The  empire's  boundaries  reached  to  new  ter- 
ritory, not  only  geographically  but  socially.  The 
Enchanters  were  the  first  of  the  gangs  in  the  area 
to  extend  their  membership  past  the  limits  of  a 
single   racial  or   national   group.    Though   com- 


posed m.iinlx  ol  Puerto  Ricans,  The  Enchanters 
had  Negroes  and  several  Italians  in  their  or- 
ganization. A  former  Enchanter,  a  Puerto  Rican. 
now  the  head  ol  a  family,  tec  ailed  that  (his  was 
.i  i adi< al  departure: 

"The  gangs  used  to  be  strictly  according  to 
whethei  you  were  a  Puerto  Rican  or  an  Italian 
or  something  like  that.  Now,  you  hear  all  this 
talk  about  Italian  gangs  and  Puerto  Rican 
gangs,  but  it's  not  all  one  way  or  the  other.  The 
Italian  gang  that's  left  up  north  has  maybe 
twentj  guvs  who  are  Puerto  Ricans.  It's  not  so 
much  that  stuff  now  as  it  is  c  licpics  whi<  h  c  lique 
is  strongest.  Ten  years  ago  I  couldn't  walk  down 
105th  Street  Ol    I'd  get  it  because  I  was  a  Spic" 

When  the  Puerto  Rican  colony  formed  in  East 
Harlem  and  as  it  began  to  grow,  the  bar  among 
the  old  Italian,  Jewish,  and  Irish  inhabitants  be- 
came: "The  Puerto  Ricans  are  taking  over— they 
ate  running  us  out."  The  patents  said  it  and  the 
kids  absorbed  it.  The  new  boys  were  enemies, 
threatening  tenement  house  and  hearth.  Gangs 
"defended"  their  neighborhood  against  the  en- 
croachers  In  beating  them  up.  And,  in  protec- 
tion, the  newcomers  organized  to  fight  back. 

The  pattern  is  nothing  new  to  Manhattan. 
The  only  things  that  change  are  the  neighbor- 
hoods and  the  old  nationalities.  A  New  York 
reporter's  analysis  of  the  typical  nineteenth-cen- 
tury gang  member,  published  in  The  Gangs  of 
New  York  in  1928,  could  easily  fit  below  today's 
headlines.  Herbert  Asbury  wrote  of  the  "bop- 
ping" kid  of  a  century  before: 

"Poverty  and  disorganization  of  home  and 
community  brought  him  into  being  .  .  .  his  only 
escape  from  the  misery  of  his  surroundings  lay 
in  excitement,  and  he  could  imagine  no  outlet 
lor  his  turbulent  spirit  save  sex  and  fighting.  .  .  ." 
The  only  outdated  point  seems  to  be  that  in  the 
old  days,  when  the  grown-up  criminal  gangs  were 
low  on  members  because  of  death,  jail,  or  de- 
fection, thev  called  up  recruits  from  teen-age 
gangs. 

One  of  the  lew  distinctions  so  far  between  the 
Puerto  Rican  migrants  and  the  early  immigrant 
groups  in  New  York  is  that  the  Puerto  Ricans 
have  developed  no  criminal  gangs  of  adults,  as 
the  Irish,  Jews,  and  Italians  did.  This  is  perhaps 
a  happy  fact  lor  the  social  workers,  but  may  in 
the  long  run  be  a  sad  one  for  the  progress  of  the 
Puerto  Ricans.  Many  old-time  observers  in  the 
city  believe  that  this  lack  of  an  adult  underworld 
is  one  of  the  reasons  why  the  Puerto  Ricans  have 
not  yet  achieved  any  power  in  politics.  What- 
ever the  merits  of  the  case  may  be,  the  kid  who 
grows  out  of  a  teen-age  gang  graduates  into  a 


BY     DAN     WAKEFIELD 


39 


social  club,  a  card-playing  club,  or  merely  be- 
comes a  part  of  the  group  that  hangs  around  at 
night  in  the  neighborhood  barber  shop.  He  can't 
go  on  to  membership  in  a  Puerto  Rican  criminal 
gang  of  adults  because  there  is  none. 

But  much  of  the  story  of  the  modern  gang  is 
the  same  as  it  was  a  century  ago.  When  Asbury 
talks  about  the  need  for  escape  from  the  misery 
of  surroundings  and  the  yearning  for  fame  and 
glory,  he  talks  about  The  Enchanters.  The  name 
of  the  gang  expresses  its  highest  promise. 

The  name  of  The  Enchanters  was  one  of  the 
biggest  issues  in  the  gang's  debate  about  going 
social.  When  a  kid  becomes  a  member  of  a 
fighting  or  "bopping"  gang,  or  when  his  gang 
decides  to  start  fighting,  the  member  changes  the 
way  he  walks.  A  gang  member  can  watch  a  guy 
walk  down  the  street  and  tell  you  whether  he 
is  bopping  or  not.  A  bopping  gang  that  was  go- 
ing social  obviously  needed  a  different  name  to 
signify  the  change.  The  majority  decided  on 
"Conservatives"  but  there  was  stiff  opposition. 

GIRLS    AND     GUNS 

TH  E  meetings  to  discuss  the  change  were 
attended  by  the  boys  and  girls  who  be- 
longed to  The  Enchanters,  several  guys  from  the 
rival  Dragons  and  Comanches  gangs  who  were 
interested  in  going  social,  and  Ramon  Diaz,  act- 
ing as  an  informal  adviser.  The  sessions  were 
stormy,  with  some  of  the  old  Enchanters  walking 
out,  and  others  arguing  that  changing  the  name 
would  mean  betrayal  of  their  history. 

The  girls  were  among  the  strongest  opponents 
of  changing  the  name.  Many  of  them  used  to 
date  Enchanters  who  were  now  in  jail  or  in  the 
hospital  and  they  felt  that  out  of  respect  to  those 
boys  and  the  gang's  tradition  the  name  should 
stay  the  same.  When  sentiment  began  to  grow 
for  the  name  "Conservatives,"  the  girls  proposed 
a  compromise  name:  "The  Conservative  E's." 

But  retaining  some  letter  of  the  past  meant 
more  than  just  respect  for  the  old  boy  friends 
and  heroes.  It  meant  retaining  some  spirit  of 
the  past.  And  many  of  the  girls  were  anxious  to 
do  that.  Disputes  over  girls  are  often  the  excuse 
for  starting  a  gang  war,  and  girls  are  not  always 
displeased  by  this.  The  girl  whose  honor  or  love 
is  in  question  rarely  runs  any  risk  of  physical 
injury  herself,  and  the  glamor  of  being  fought 
over  by  whole  gangs  of  boys  has  a  powerful  at- 
traction. 

During  the  great  debate  about  the  name  and 
purpose  of  the  club,  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  old 
Enchanters  left  in   disgust.    Some   joined  gangs 


that  still  were  bopping.  At  the  same  time,  Ramon 
Diaz  was  influencing  the  group  to  bring  in  new, 
younger  members  who  were  not  a  part  of  the 
old  tradition. 

The  biggest  and  most  precarious  step  was 
taken  when  the  guys  agreed  to  give  up  all  their 
old  "pieces"— their  guns.  This  unilateral  dis- 
armament meant  a  real  risk.  If  other  gangs 
didn't  respect  the  change,  the  Conservatives 
would  be  helpless. 

The  gang  had  no  sooner  emptied  its  arsenal 
when  a  challenge  came  from  the  rival  Dragons. 
Some  of  the  old  Enchanters  bitterly  regretted 
having  given  up  their  arms.  Monk  Wescott,  one 
of  the  veterans  who  had  first  asked  Ramon  Diaz 
for  help  in  going  social,  was  torn  between  the 
challenge  of  the  new  peace  and  the  challenge  of 
the  Dragons.  Some  guys  had  sold  their  pieces 
(many  gangs  keep  a  special  treasury  for  purchase 
of  arms)  and  some  took  the  safer  course  of  throw- 
ing them  into  the  river.  Monk  and  several  of 
the  others  had  buried  theirs  in  a  basement. 

In  the  last  minutes  of  the  Dragon  challenge, 
when  the  Dragons  were  on  their  way  to  100th 
Street,  Monk  and  two  others  uncovered  the 
buried  pieces,  went  to  the  roof  of  a  housing 
project,  and  fired  down  at  the  enemy.  The  police 
had  been  notified  and  quickly  spotted  the  boys 
and  arrested  them.  Monk  and  one  other  boy 
were  charged  with  attempted  assault  and  Monk 
was  sentenced  to  what  is  known  in  the  neighbor- 
hood as  a  "zip  five"— a  maximum  five  years  at  the 
state  correctional  institution  at  Comstock,  New 
York,  with  the  final  determination  of  dismissal 
to  be  made  by  the  authorities  of  the  institution 
on  the  basis  of  behavior  there. 

With  another  of  the  few  remaining  veterans 
gone,  the  gang  would  be  even  weaker  in  any 
future  fighting.  Monk's  departure  made  going 
social  seem  even  more  vital,  and  yet  at  the  same 
time  it  proved  again  the  difficulties  of  staying  out 
of  trouble.  The  members  understood  that  they 
needed  more  than  a  new  name  to  insure  a 
permanent  peace. 

Many  of  them  felt  that  if  they  only  had  a 
place  to  go— a  place  of  their  own  where  they 
could  enter  and  shut  out  the  world  of  adults 
and  enemies  and  strangers— they  would  have  a 
better  chance  of  holding  to  the  new,  non-fighting 
way  of  life.  Their  meeting  place  had  always 
been  a  candy  store,  which  is  usually  the  closest 
thing  to  a  home  that  a  gang  in  East  Harlem  can 
expect. 

A  candy  store,  like  a  community  center,  is 
ruined  by  the  fact  that  it  is  open  to  the  public. 
But  at  worst  it's  a  place  to  hang  around,  and 


II) 


I   II  I       (.   \  \  (,      THAT      W  IN  T     (.()()!) 


I)'  no  iM, in  no  place  ,n  all.  Winn  1  he  I  n 
(  hanters  were  not  on  the  street  the)  hung  around 
in  the  cand)  store  owned  l>\  a  woman  called 
I  ,i  Vieja  the  Old  1  ady.  She  got  to  know  the 
guys  .ind  served  them,  as  well  as  othei  people 
from  the  block,  with  candy,  cigarettes,  and  sand- 
w  i(  hes,  \\  lieihei  oi  noi  the)  had  the  pi  i<  e  al  the 
time  oi  the  pun  hase. 

A  box  was  kepi  on  the  counter  foi  contribu- 
tions, and  those  who  were  broke  merely  took 
whal  ilu  \  needed  and  then,  when  ihcv  gol  a 
job  oi  inoiK  \  from  the  family,  they  paid  what 
ihe\  figured  the)  owed  to  the  box.  In  this  wa) 
La  Vieja  conduc  ted  lier 
business  and  made  Ik  i 
living  through  the  most 
"unsocial''  day's  of  The 
I  n.  hanters.  ()nl\  once 
was  lnoncN  stolen  from 
the  box  ol  contributions, 
and  the  ihiel  was  (  aught 
and  soundly  beaten  by 
the  rest  of  the  gang. 

FINGERPRINTS     IN     SILVER 

AS  A  candy  store,  I. a  Vieja's  was  fine,  hut 
The  Conservatives  wanted  something  more. 
The  idea  ol  a  <  lubhouse  now  became  a  main  topic 
of  the  meetings.  Ramon  Diaz  was  asked  to  find  out 
if  there  were  ,m\  possibility  ol  getting  one, 
and  Ramon  went  again  to  Mr.  Eddy.  Norm 
was  by  this  time  impressed  with  the  gangs  de- 
termination and  wanted  to  help.  He  remem- 
bered discussing  the  problem  with  a  woman  hoin 
a  midtown  youth  foundation  who  was  interested 
in  having  hei  group,  the  Kips  Bay  Urns  Club, 
give  some  support  to  youth  wot  k  in  I  asl  I  lai  Inn. 
Noun  sent  Ramon  Diaz  with  a  delegation  of 
Conservatives  to  talk  with  the  ladies. 

They  worked  out  an  arrangement  loi  the  Kips 
P>a\  foundation  to  contribute  to  the  support  of 
a  (lubhouse  and  the  hiring  of  a  lull-time  director 
lor  the  Conservatives.  Ramon  Diaz  was  chosen 
lor  the  job,  and  the  store  on  First  Avenue  was 
rented  lor  a  (lubhouse.  The  boys  were  to  help 
pay  the  rent,  through  dues  and  money-raising 
projects,  and  the  sponsors  would  match  any  sum 
the  boys  were  able  to  raise  to  help  buy  equip- 
ment and  furnishings.  Ramon  and  the  officers 
were  to  meet  once  a  month  with  the  ladies  to 
report  on  finances  and  activities  of  the  club.  The 
members  fixed  up  the  clubhouse,  and  each  Con 
servative  dipped  his  hand  in  silver  paint  and 
pressed  the  print  of  his  palm  on  the  wall  to 
signify  commitment   to  the  new  way  of  life.    It 


was  a  mass,  voluntary  fingerprinting  thai  hope 
full)  meant  the  i  nd  ol  a  need  lot  required  fingei 
printing  in  the  future.  The  clubhouse  was 
linilui  equipped  with  tables  and  chairs,  a  pool 
table,  a  radio,  and  the  large  silvei  sign  that  in- 
sured their  new   privacy:   Members  Only. 

Membership  now  meant  something  different. 
Rules  were  adopted  thai  required  a  membei 
either  lo  be  in  sc  hool  oi  woi  king,  o)  give  I  lie  (bib 
a   reason   whv    he  wasn't.     Ramon    began   helping 

members  gel  jobs,  through  local  contacts  and  the 
New  York  State  Employment  Service.  I  he  new 
rules  also  required  that  no  membei  could  be  a 
member  ol  another  gang,  oi  be  caught  fighting 
oi  using  dings.  Tin-  laiiei  requirement  is  es 
peciall)  significant,  foi  East  Harlem  has  one  ol 
the  highest  rates  ol  drug  addiction  in  the  <ii\. 
and  teen-agers  often  acquire  the  habil  by  imitat 
ing  oldei    guys   in  a  gang 

To  prove  then  ability  to  follow  the  rules, 
prospective  Conservatives  must  go  through  a 
four-week  probation.  Then  the)  must  be  ac- 
cepted   by  unanimous  vote. 

Since  the  final  change  in  the  name  and  pur- 
post  ol  the  club  in  the  spring  ol  1957,  it  lias 
held  to  its  course,  lost  a  lew  members,  and  gained 
more  new  ones.  Among  the  new  faces  are  re 
units  from  other  gangs,  including  Georgie  Baez, 
a  loriiK)  "wai  lord"  ol  the  Dragons,  and  Tito 
Camacho,  once  a  "wai  lord"  of  the  Latin  Gents. 

I  xxept  loi  the  Dragons'  attack  in  the  days  ol 
(volution,  the  other  gangs  have,  for  the  most 
part,  left  The  Conservatives  alone.  The  first  real 
period  of  trial  -the  long  and  always  dangerous 
summer,  when  the  streets  are  lull  and  the  gangs 
arc  restless  passed  without  a  war.  The  Con- 
servatives stayed  around  the  clubhouse,  clinging 
to  the  new  way  ol  life  that  often  seemed  sup- 
ported  by  only  a  thread,  a  pool  cue,  and  the 
memory  ol  "so  many  troubles"  in  the  past. 

One  night,  which  was  every  night,  the  gins 
were  inside  playing  pool  beneath  the  neon  light 
and  the  blare  ol  the  radio  that  drowned  the  room 
in  the  rhythm  of  rock  'n'  roll.  The  sound  poured 
out  the  open  door  and  onto  the  Street  and  the 
sidewalk,  where  a  lew  guys  paced  back  and  forth 
in  the  complicated  patterns  ol  idleness  Some 
sat  down  on  the  folding  (hairs  in  front  ol  the 
(  lubhouse,  gol  up  again,  went  inside,  and  di  ilted 
back  out  -only  to  return  again  to  the  light. 
Bobby  Montesi,  the  club  president,  showed  no 
sign  ol  his  office.  The  blue  beret  he  wears  in  all 
seasons  was  pulled  down  toward  his  right  eye, 
partially  covering  his  forehead.  His  lean,  tan 
lace  bore  an  absent  expression  until  he  suddenly 
stopped  by  George,  a  tall,  thin  Negro  boy,  and 


BY     DAN     WAKEFIELD 


41 


sounded  a  note  that  harmonized  with  the 
rock  'n'  roll  song  on  the  radio  inside.  Both  boys' 
faces  wrinkled  in  concentration  on  the  harmony, 
and  Kenny,  who  was  balanced  against  the  front 
of  the  club  on  a  tilted  chair,  got  up,  letting  the 
chair  click  to  the  cement,  and  joined  them. 
When  the  song  was  over  they  returned  to  their 
separate  wanderings  without  a  word. 


FIVE  or  six  girls  outside  the  clubhouse 
screeched  in  unison  as  two  boys  came 
down  the  block.  The  boys  ignored  them  in  a 
sure,  studied  manner,  chewing  harder  on  their 
gum  and  running  their  hands  up  their  bright 
suspenders,  and  sauntered  inside  to  the  more 
serious  business  of  the  pool  table.  The  girls, 
after  scattering  in  laughter,  gathered  again  on 
the  stoop  of  the  building  beside  the  clubhouse, 
chattering,  peeping  inside,  and  staring  down  the 
street  to  see  who  might  come  next. 

The  tiny,  gold-skinned  girl  called  "Shorty," 
whose  attractions— at  the  age  of  sixteen— had 
promoted  several  gang  battles  in  the  past,  leaned 
against  a  handsome,  half-embarrassed  boy,  who 
in  turn  was  leaning  against  a  parked  car;  he 
bent  his  head  down  as  she  raised  her  face  in 
quick,  teasing  darts  that  were  almost  but  not 
quite  kisses.  The  other  girls  didn't  watch.  On 
the  stoop  they  talked  of  the  imminent  terror  of 
school,  starting  the  talk  in  English  and  often, 
when  excited,  switching  to  Spanish  and  ending 
in  high,  long  laughter. 

A  girl  in  black  toreador  pants  and  an  orange 
sweater  slipped  off  the  cement  stoop  and  turned 
to  ask  the  others,  as  if  she  had  just  remembered, 
"Hey,  did  you  kids  see  that  stage  show  at  the 
Paramount?   Fats  Domino?" 

The  other  girls  shrieked  their  approval. 

"Yeh;"  said  one,  "and  that  movie,  though— 
with  that  band  playing  that  American  dance 
music— you  see  the  way  they  go?" 

The  girl  stepped  out  on  the  sidewalk,  held  her 
arms  up  stiffly  in  fox-trot  position,  and  moved 
slowly  in  a  wandering  box  step  with  a  sour 
expression  on  her  face.  The  others  laughed. 
"American"  music— which  is  any  other  than  the 
Spanish  and  South  American  dances  and  rock 
'n'  roll— is  painfully  square  It  is  practically  non- 
existent at  the  weekly  canteens  attended  by  Con- 
servatives at  the  Family  Center  of  the  Parish  on 
100th  Street. 

This  Friday  night  canteen— supplemented  oc- 
casionally by  Saturday  night  dances  sponsored 
by    the    Conservatives    in    the    same    place    and 


with  nearly  the  same  faces— alone  serves  to  break 
the  routine  of  pool,  pacing,  and  rock  'n'  roll 
that  sustains  the  club  through  its  new,  non- 
violent life. 

In  the  past  the  canteens  were  often  a  part  of 
the  violence.  Because  they  were  the  only  teen- 
age social  occasions  in  the  neighborhood,  they 
grew  with  boys  and  girls  and  gangs  from  all 
around.  Hundreds  of  kids  pressed  into  the  dusty 
hall  of  the  Family  Center  on  100th  Street,  and 
the  basement  of  the  Parish  Church  on  106th 
Street,  where  a  record  dance  was  also  held.  A 
member  of  the  church  staff  and  a  member  of 
the  police  force  were  always  present,  but  with  rival 
gang  members  facing  off  in  challenges  through 
the  patterns  of  the  crowds,  there  was  no  way  to 
keep  control.  Sometimes  guns  were  smuggled 
in,  at  first  for  show  and  then  for  action.  A  boy 
was.  shot  and  killed  in  the  canteen  on  106th 
Street  and  that  was  the  last  canteen  for  the  street. 

On  100th  Street,  however,  new  measures  were 
taken  to  keep  down  the  crowds,  parents  were 
brought  in  as  well  as  police,  and  the  Parish- 
fearing  the  worse  kinds  of  trouble  that  could 
easily  develop  without  any  canteen  at  all— kept 
it  going  and  kept  it  orderly.  It  also  has  had 
shootings,  but  except  for  one  isolated  incident, 
the  past  year  has  been  relatively  quiet.  A  great 
new  factor  for  peace  has  been  The  Conservatives. 

The  boys  and  girls  come  in  separate,  cluster- 
ing groups,  with  an  occasional  couple.  Soon 
they  are  dancing,  clapping,  and  singing  beneath 
the  glow  of  fluorescent  lights  made  colorful  and 
dim  by  crepe-paper  wrappings.  The  usual  dress 
for  the  boys  is  bright-striped  sport  shirts  and 
khaki  or  denim  pants,  though  sometimes  a  boy 
will  arrive  in  a  new,  Ivy  League  suit,  his  shoes 
shined  to  a  brilliant  gloss,  perhaps  even  wearing 
whal  constitutes  the  final  touch  of  full  dress- 
dark  glasses.  The  girls  most  often  wear  sweaters 
and  slacks  or  toreador  pants,  but  sometimes  skirts 
and  blouses. 

The  music  blares  loud  and  last,  in  rock  'n'  roll 
or  Latin  rhythms.  The  meringue  is  a  favorite. 
But  last  music  finally  stops  and  one  of  the  slow 
rock  'n'  roll  tunes  that  drags  in  thick,  halting 
harmony  fills  the  room,  and  the  boys  are  stand- 
ing by  girls.  Couples  embrace,  and  it  is  then  the 
duty  of  the  attendant  minister  to  see  that  the 
technique  used  in  ihis  dance  is  "fish"  and  not 
"grind."  If  the  feci  are  moving,  it  is  "fish"  and 
legal;  if  the  only  movement  is  in  the  bodies  that 
are,  in  either  case,  pressed  together,  it  is  "grind" 
and  the  offenders  will  be  tapped  on  the  shoulder 
by  the  minister  and  asked  to  start   "fishing." 

At  eleven   o'clock  it   is  over,  and   the  kids  re- 


42 


THE  GANG  THAT  \V  E  NT  GOOD 


turn  to  the  street.  Boys  without  girls  may  go  to 
.1  candy  store  and  gathei  at  the  jukebox  [or  still 
more  music;  some  seek  the  shelter  ol  tenement 
hallways  to  work  out  their  own  singing  arrange- 
ments. Those  who  leave  the  dance  with  dates 
often  go  to  the  hallways  too— hut  not  to  sing. 
Iluie  is  of  course  no  such  thing  as  "getting  the 
family  car"  Eoi  "a  drive  in  the  country."  Necking 
has  io  be  done  in  the  hallways.  Foi  more  mi  ion-, 
sexual  adventures,  the  refuge  is  the  roof.  Phis 
can  be  dangerous,  lor  there  aie  often  oleic  1  ,\l\ 
venturers  strolling  the  rooftops  hut  the  kids 
rarely  find  another  place    to  he  alone. 

Whatever  the  after-the-dance  adventure,  there 
is  always,  at  last,  the  return  to  the  street;  the  last 
place  to  linger  before  going  hack  to  an  over- 
crowded tenement  room.  Tomorrow  there  will 
he  the  clubhouse  again,  and  next  week,  again, 
the  dance. 


A     DRAGON     MISFIRES 

Til  I  question  among  the  old-timers  on  the 
block  was  whether  (his  schedule,  when 
the  new  routine  got  old.  would  be  enough  to 
keep  The  Conservatives  conservative.  Louie,  a 
small,  finely-featured  boy  from  the  block,  who 
left  it  for  the  Army  ahead)  .1  veteran  ol  the  wars 
of  The  Enchanters,  returned  on  leave  and  criti- 
cized the  old  gang— not  for  turning  conservative 
but  rather  for  not  doing  it  with  more  imagina- 
tion. 

"This,"  he  judged,  "is  not  enough."  As  a 
former  Enchanter  he  was  interested  in  what  had 
come  to  pass  and  anxious  that  it  not  go  hack 
to  what  had  been.  He  had  almost  been  ruined 
in  its  violence,  and  enlisted  alter  coming  close 
to  prison  for  his  part  in  a  gang  war  shooting— a 
fact  quite  difficult  to  match  with  his  lace,  which 
was  only  saved  by  the  faint  trace  of  a  mustache 
from  being  the  face  of  a  child. 

"What  you  guys  need,"  he  told  one  of  the  new 
Conservatives,  "is  a  guy  with  ideas— a  guy  to  say, 
Listen,  let's  get  up  an  outing,'  or,  'Let's  go  up  to 
a  dance  in  the  Bronx,'  and  then  have  a  few  guys 
around  who  right  quick  say,  'Yen  man,  that's  a 
good  idea.'  The  trouble  with  you  guys  is  you're 
just  sitting  around.  You  need  to  get  out,  meet 
other  people,  see  what  it's  like  away  from  this 
neighborhood.  It's  hangin'  around  that  gets  you 
into  trouble." 

Victor,  the  young  Conservative,  pointed  out 
weakly  that  they  did  have  regular  meetings. 

"Meetings,"  said  Louie.  "Yeh,  I  went  to  that 
meeting.  What  kind  of  meeting  was  that?  You 
just  sat   around   and    talked    about   clues." 


Louie  readied  oul  his  cupped  hand,  as  il  at- 
tempting to  grab  sonic  tangible  formula,'  and 
leaned  across  the  table. 

"What  \ou  have  to  do,"  he  said,  "is  not  to 
talk  about  who's  paying  dues,  but  what  you're 
going  to  do  with  the  dues  monej  aftei  you  get  it. 
Thai's  the  thing  to  talk  about." 

Victor  stared  at  the  table,  considering,  and 
looked  up  to  say,  "I  tell  you,  Louie,  I  wish  you 
were  back  on  the  block  now." 

Louie  shrugged,  sat   hack,  and  smiled. 

"Now,"  he  said.  "Yeh.  Rut  it's  a  good  thing 
I  lelt  when    I  did." 

He  was  epiiet  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  said. 
"You  know,  they  say  the  Army  makes  a  man  ol 
you.  All  the  stuff  you  see  and  have  to  take.  Hut 
those  guys  there,  they  haven't  seen  anything.  I 
say  100th  Street  makes  a  man  ol  you.  The  things 
I  saw  I've  got  to  thinking  about,  and  f  tell  you, 
the  guys  at  the  base,  they  wouldn't  believe  it  if 
I  told  'em.  I  thought  about  writing  a  book,  you 
know— but   nobody'd  read  it." 

He  leaned  back  and  laughed.  "People  see  these 
movies  and  hooks  about  gangs  and  get  to  think- 
ing that's  the  way  it  is.  And  most  ol  it's  phony. 
Just  like  this  TV  play  we  saw  at  the  base,  about 
a  gang,  ii  could  never  have  happened.  The  way 
it  was,  they  had  some  gang  that  wanted  to  take 
care  of  a  kid,  and  so  they  dressed  him  up  in  their 
gang  jacket  and  sent  him  into  the  territory  ol  an 
enemy  gang  and  the  enemy  gang  saw  the  kid  and 
heat  him  up.  Well,  you  know,  there's  no  gang 
that'd  make  a  guy  dress  in  their  jacket  when  he 
wasn't  a  member— it'd  ruin  the  honor  of  the 
gang.  They'd  just  take  care  of  the  kid  them- 
selves, that's  all. 

"And  lots  of  these  stories  in  magazines  and 
books,  they  usually  have  some  racketeer  who 
comes  along  and  sells  them  guns  to  make  a  big 
profit  lor  himself  and  they  start  using  guns  then 
—like  it's  that  one  guy  who  turned  'em  bad. 
Hell.  It's  never  like  that.  If  a  gang  wants  pieces, 
it  gets  pieces— it  gets  'em  all  kind  of  ways  from 
all  kind  of  places. 

"The  real  things,  the  things  that  really  hap- 
pen, people  would  never  believe.  Just  like  the 
time,  I'll  never  forget  it— you  weren't  around 
here  yet— we  were  up  on  a  roof  on  103rd  Street 
shooting  down  at  the  Dragons.  We  came  down 
off  the  roof  and  chased  'em  down  104th  Street, 
past  the  Precinct  station— none  of  the  cops  even 
came  out  after  us— and  down  the  next  block  and 
were  shooting  from  doorsteps.  One  guy  from  the 
Dragons  sneaked  up  on  one  of  our  guys  and 
pointed  a  rifle  straight  at  his  head,  and  every- 
thing stopped,  and   the  guy   from   the  Dragons 


pulled  the  trigger  and  nothing  happened.  He 
kept  on  pulling  the  trigger.  I  don't  know  why  it 
didn't  go  off— it  had  been  going  off  all  right  be- 
fore. The  guy  finally  figured  it  wasn't  going  off, 
and  he  walked  away,  and  that  was  the  end  of 
it.   Everyone  just  went  home. 

"That  kind  of  thing  would  never  have  hap- 
pened a  few  years"  before,  though.  I  mean  with 
the  gun.  Right  after  the  war  I  remember  I  was 
just  a  little  kid  and  guns  first  started  showing 
up  a  lot,  in  the  open.  At  first  it  was  a  real  big 
deal.  A  guy  would  pull  a  gun  in  the  street  and 
everyone  out  on  the  block  would  scatter.  Maybe 
it  wasn't  even  loaded,  maybe  you  couldn't  hit  a 
thing  with  it;  all  vou  had  to  do  was  pull  a  gun. 
Then,  people  got  used  to  'em,  and  after  a  while 
it  got  so  a  guy  pulled  a  gun  and  another  guy 
would  just  stand  there  and  ask  him,  'Well,  you 
going  to  use  that  or  not?  You  better  use  it  or 
put  it  away.'  That's  the  way  it  got  to  be.  That's 
why  now  there's  none  of  this  waving  a  gun 
around  and  watching  people  run.  You  got  to 
use  it  or  put  it  away." 

CLUBHOUSE  WITHOUT  A  CAUSE 

TH  E  wars  of  the  street  are  not  a  game  for 
boys,  and  the  wars  are  not  yet  over.  The 
transformation  of  Enchanters  to  Conservatives 
is  not  a  large  scale  revolution;  it  is  rather  the 
exception  to  the  rule.  Several  other  neighbor- 
hood gangs  have  shown  an  interest  in  going 
social  and  all  have  their  peaceful  phases.  But  to 
execute  a  permanent  change  on  the  streets,  with- 
out the  kind  of  unexpected  help  that  so  luckily 
gave  The  Conservatives  an  adult  director  and  a 
clubhouse,  would  be  a  minor  miracle. 

This  problem  was  the  subject  of  a  sermon  one 
hot  July  Sunday  at  the  East  Harlem  Protestant 
Church,  when  Reverend  Norman  Eddy  preached 
on  "Jesus  and  His  Gang."  That  Friday  night 
Norm  had  been  concerned  with  two  gangs  who 
had  come  to  100th  Street  to  fight  and  were  per- 
suaded to  meet  to  talk  peace  in  the  church  with 
Norm  as  the  mediator.  He  had  left  the  canteen 
Friday  night,  his  face  set  tense,  and  returned 
again  an  hour  later,  still  walking  fast  but  smil- 
ing. One  of  the  guys  at  the  door  of  the  canteen— 
a  graduated  veteran  of  gangs— had  asked,  "Hey 
Norm,  is  it  over  now?" 

Norm  started  to  nod  and  then  he  stopped, 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said,  "Is  it  ever 
really  over?" 

He  prepared  his  sermon  for  Sunday  on  the 
gang  of  Jesus  and  the  gangs  of  the  neighborhood. 
Many  of  the  new  Conservatives  attend  the  100th 


BY     DAN     WAKEFIELD 


43 


Street  Church  and  they  were  in  the  uneasy  trial 
of  their  first  summer  as  a  social  gang.  But  Norm 
was  not  only  talking  to  them  when  he  talked 
about  the  gangs.  He  was  talking  to  everyone 
who  lived  in  the  neighborhood. 

He  said  the  teen-agers  had  it  especially  hard 
because  they  had  to  decide  on  whether  to  get  in- 
volved with  the  fighting.  He  knew  how  they  all 
were  afraid  of  being  called  a  "punk,"  but  he  told 
them  there  was  a  special  kind  of  courage  that 
went  beyond  fear  of  what  other  people  thought. 
That  was  the  courage  to  stand  up  for  what  you 
believed  was  right;  to  stand  up  for  God. 

The  girls,  Norm  said,  were  just  as  involved  in 
the  questions  of  fighting.  They  were  often  the 
reason  why  the  guys  from  other  gangs  came  into 
the  neighborhood.  Norm  told  the  girls  they  had 
a  special  chance  to  work  between  the  gangs,  and 
help  keep  the  boys  from  fighting  instead  of,  as 
sometimes  happened,  encouraging  a  battle. 

From  behind  him  as  he  talked  came  the  noise 
of  the  street,  always  present,  a  constant  chorus, 
to  which  the  congregation  would  rise  up  and 
go  once  more. 

The  street  would  be  the  same.  The  Con- 
servatives have  gone  social  and  thereby  changed 
their  relation  to  society,  but  society  is  still  as  it 
was.  The  dope  pusher  is  still  in  the  doorway 
and  the  bopping  gang  is  still  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. The  same  temptations  are  met  every  day, 
and  the  million  factors  that  made  the  members 
of  the  club  once  fight  continue  to  be  a  part  of 
their  life  in  the  city's  worst  slum.  Norm  Eddy 
understood,  as  Louie  did,  that  in  the  long  run 
the  kids  must  find  something  more  than  a  new 
routine  and  a  place  to  meet  to  keep  them  out  of 
the  troubles  of  the  past.  The  Conservatives  have 
wrung  from  society  a  clubhouse;  but  not  a  cause. 

Harper's  Magazine,  June  1958 


«F 


A  FRIENDLY  TALK 


A  Story  by  STORM  JAMESON 

Drawings  by  Tom  Keogh 


LETTERS  came  for  her  so  seldom  that  the 
sight  of  the  buff  envelope  lying  just  inside 
the  door  when  she  came  in  horn  her  set  walk 
gave  her  a  shock,  only  half  pleasant.  As  she 
stooped  for  it  she  saw,  with  another  light  shock, 
that  it  came  from  the  BBC.  Before  she  could 
stop  herself  she  had  thought:  They  want  me  to 
write  for  them.  .  .  .  She  wrung  the  neck  of  this 
idea  at  once.  .  .  .  Idiot.  They  want  to  quote  a 
line  from  a  book— or  they've  made  a  mistake.  .  .  . 
She  stretched  her  hand  out  toward  her  spec- 
tacles—and drew  it  back  again.  One  of  her  vani- 
ties was  to  be  able,  at  her  age,  and  although  it 
made  her  head  ache,  to  read  without  them. 
Others  were  her  straight  back  and  nearly  un- 
lined  throat.  Innocent  vanities  .  .  .  almost  vital 
to  a  woman  so  little  conceited  that  she  had  guil- 
lotined her  career  as  a  novelist  on  the  day  she 
first  realized  that  her  mind  was  losing  its  re- 
silience, its  once  feverish  energy.  .  .  .  Why  should 
I    force    the    poor    creature    to   go    on    jumping 


through  the  hoops  with  its  stiffening  joints? 
Leave  that  to  the  young.  .  .  .  She  had  just  enough 
money,  if  she  turned  over  every  penny  twice,  to 
live  without  working,  and  if  she  hid  herself  in 
a  village. 

She  had  never  been  a  fashionable  writer,  but 
she  had  been  well  enough  known.  Perhaps  it 
stung  her  to  discover  how  little  time  it  took  for 
her  to  be  forgotten,  completely.  No  critic  imag- 
ined it  would  do  him  any  good  to  mention 
her  name;  even  her  publisher,  after  a  few  polite 
inquiries,  seemed  woundingly  content  to  let  a 
sleeping  dog  lie.  Her  London  friends,  too.  .  .  . 
She  did  not  make  friends  easily.  Besides  her  hus- 
band, with  whom  she  had  been  in  love  until  the 
day  of  his  death,  she  had  had  one  close  friend. 
As  close  to  her  as  her  childhood,  as  her  restless 
wasteful  furious  youth,  and  as  irrecoverably  lost. 

She  was  at  once  too  intelligent  and  too  pig- 
headed to  let  herself  feel  sorry  that  she  had 
turned    her   back   so    recklessly   on    what    might 


A     STORY     BY     STORM     JAMESON 


have  remained  to  her— for  a  few  more  years— of 
celebrity,  a  modest  celebrity.  If  now  and  then  an 
infinitely  small  jet  of  bitterness  broke  the  surface 
of  her  mind,  she  thought  at  once:  It  would  have 
happened  in  any  case  the  moment  I  died  .  .  . 
why  not  before  then? 

Just  the  same,  she  had  to  crush  down  an  ex- 
citement when  she  opened  the  envelope,  turning 
it  over  once  again  to  look  at  the  address— Mrs. 
Sarah  Jenner,  The  White  Cottage,  Enham.  So 
far  no  mistake. 

"Dear  Mrs.  Jenner,  you  may  have  listened  to 
one  or  more  of  the  talks"— if  I  had  a  wireless,  I 
might— "in  the  series,  'A  Friendly  Talk,'  in  which 
two  women  discuss,  freely  and  not  too  solemnly, 
any  topic  or  topics  which  interest  them.  I  won- 
der whether  you  would  care.  .  .  ." 

Her  eye  had  already  caught  the  name,  a  couple 
of  lines  lower,  of  the  other  woman,  the  woman 
they  proposed  as  her  partner  in  this  talk. 
Trembling,  she  sat  down  in  the  nearest  chair. . . . 
But  why  couldn't  they  have  asked  just  me?  Am 
I  as  old  hat  as  that?  And  why  Elizabeth?  Of  all 
people.  Couldn't  they  find  anything  better?  .  .  . 
A  mocking  smile  crossed  her  mouth  as  she 
thought:  Perhaps  they  felt  how  amusing  to  trot 
out  two  relics  of  the  past.  .  .  .  Forget  it,  forget  it. 

She  had  trained  herself  so  severely  never  to  let 
the  image  of  Elizabeth  enter  her  mind  that  she 
felt  as  guilty  as  a  child  caught  with  fingers  in  the 
honey  to  be  thinking  of  her  now.  It  forced  her 
to  think,  too,  about  her  husband— since  it  was  at 
his  funeral  she  had  last  seen  Elizabeth.  They  had 
cried  together,  then  Elizabeth  had  gone  home 
for  the  weekend:  she  was  to  come  back  on  Tues- 
day—but, on  Tuesday.  .  .  .  Fifteen  years.  ...  Is 
her  hair  still  the  same  reddish  brown,  and  curl 
ing?  It  must  be  gray.  And,  almost  certainly,  she'll 
have  put  on  weight,  living  in  Devon.  She  was 
always  greedy,  and  lazy,  with  that  careless 
slovenly  charm— so  much  charm  that  she  had 
only  to  say,  "Pass  the  salt,"  for  every  person 
within  hearing  to  smile  with  pleasure.  Just  as 
she  had  only  to  glance  at  me  from  the  corner  of 
her  eye,  in  a  boring  gathering,  for  us  both  to  be 
seized  by  the  same  idiotic  gaiety  as  when  we  were 
children  sitting  together  at  the  end  of  the  pew 
in  church,  hiding  our  crazy  laughter  under  our 
hands,  as  though  praying.  Just  as,  with  a  gesture 
of  her  long  fingers,  she  could  call  back  the  whole 
of  our  childhood  and  youth  in  a  village  sunk  in 
a  fold  of  the  northern  moor,  the  wind  from  the 
sea  pouring  through  the  branches  of  pines  bent 
all  one  way  by  its  weight.  .  .  . 

She  was  a  better  writer  than  I  was.  I  admit  it 
now.  If  she  had  not  been  so  incredibly  lazy.  .  .  . 


Is  that— her  laziness— why,  for  more  than  ten 
years,  she  has  written  nothing?  Absolutely 
nothing.  She  is  as  forgotten  now  as  I  am.  She 
always  said:  Why  do  I  bother  to  write  when  1 
can  fill  every  moment  of  my  life  without  all  that 
trouble?   Ah  .  .  . 

A  familiar  jealousy,  a  familiar  love,  a  familiar 
grief,  seized  her.  She  let  it  pinch  her  for  a 
moment,  then  stood  up  resolutely  and  walked 
to  the  desk  which  served  now  only  to  hold  a 
mug  filled  with  wild  flowers,  and,  moving  this 
aside,  wrote  a  polite  brief  letter. 

"Dear  Miss"— What  is  the  name?  Head.  Cor- 
delia Head.  I  suppose,  a  young  woman— "Dear 
Miss  Head,  I  shall  be  delighted  to  come  to  Lon- 
don, as  you  suggest,  on  the  twentieth,  to  record  a 
talk  with  Miss  Elizabeth  Hume.  I  only  wonder 
a  little  why  you.  .  .  ." 

SH  E  walked  with  a  fine  air  of  indifference 
across  the  hall,  immense  and  undistin- 
guished, of  Broadcasting  House  to  the  desk  in 
the  corner. 

"My  name  is  Jenner.  I  have  an  appointment 
for  three  o'clock  with  Miss  Cordelia  Head." 

"Miss  Head?  And  the  name  is  — ?" 

"Jenner.  Mrs.  Sarah  Jenner." 

"Will  you  take  a  seat?  I'll  let  Miss  Head 
know." 

She  sat  down  and  looked  quickly  and  cau- 
tiously round  the  hall.  It  was  almost  empty.  One 
small  group— a  youngish  woman  talking  with 
overdone  vivacity  to  three  young  men,  their 
cheeks  as  it  were  swaddled  in  beards.  A  few 
strays  like  herself.  ...  A  minute  past  three.  She 
isn't  here.  Still  utterly  incapable  of  getting  her- 
self anywhere  on  time. 

A  young  woman,  remarkably  slender,  with  a 
smooth  sallow  face,  stepped  out  of  one  of  the 
lifts  and  walked  briskly  to  the  desk.  The  girl 
behind  it  pointed  discreetly.  She  turned,  with  a 
polite  professional  smile. 

"Mrs.   Jenner?" 

She  moved  to  stand  up.  "Yes." 

"Do  you  mind  if  we  wait  here,  to  collect  Miss 
Hume?  I  hope  she's  coming." 

"Don't  you  know?" 

"Oh,  she  said  she  would  come.  But  her  letter 
was  a  little  vague,  and  I  wasn't  sure  she  realized 
that  we  have  to  work  more  or  less  to  a  time- 
table. But  I've  allowed  a  margin.  I  was  so  glad 
you  could  come,  both  of  you." 

"She's  never  punctual." 

"You  know  her  well,  of  course." 

"I  used  to." 

A   slight    roughness    in    her    tone    caught    the 


46 


A      I  R  I  E N  DLV     T  A  L  K 


young  woman's  ear— as  it  might  have  been  caught 
l>\  the  noise  of  a  pencil  rolling  oft  lui  desk. 
Without  interest,  she  asked, 

"You  don't  sec  much  ol  hei   now"-" 

"She  lives  in  Devon.  I  live  in  Kent." 

"Ah,  yes."  I  he  pencil  had  been  picked  up 
.iihI  put  in  its  pla<  e. 

"Why—"  Sarah  fennei  began,  "did  you  ...  I 
suppose  you  knew  her  work?" 

Ives  .1  little  distractedly  turned  toward  the 
street  door,  Miss  Head  murmured, 

"To  tell  \ou  the  truth,  no.  We  were  rather 
running  out  ol  names  for  this  series,  and  my 
friend  said  .  .  .  he's  a  great  reader,  he  gets 
through  scores  of  books  ever)  week  ...  he  took 
out  one  ol  her  novels  from  the  London  Library, 
and  he  said—"  a  scarcer)  perceptible  shadow,  like 
a  fish  moving  on  the  bed  ol  a  stream,  gave  away 
the  coolly  polite  exaggeration— "that  it  was 
splendid,  and  why  not  get  her  to  do  one  of  the 
talks.  So  .  .  ." 

Mis.  Jenner  gave  her  a  glance  the  missing 
Elizabeth  would  have  recognized,  charged  with  a 
malice  younger  than  anything  in  the  young 
woman's  character. 

"He  said,  you  mean:  This  really  isn't  at  all 
bad.  So  that's  why  you  asked  her.  I  wondered." 

A  light  premonition  .  .  .  Have  I  made  a 
bloomer?  Do  they  hate  each  other?  .  .  .  crossed 
Miss  Head's  mind.  It  vanished  at  once.  With 
what  she  supposed  to  be  an  adroit  stroke,  she 
said, 

"In  fact,  I  asked  her  before  I  wrote  to  you, 
1 1  was  she  who  suggested  asking  you.  She  said 
she  admired  you  immensely,  your  novels,  par- 
ticularly .  .  .  now,  which  was  it?  Oh,  yes— 
Hidden  Duel.  Brilliant,  she  said." 

"Kind  of  you  to  tell  me,"  murmured  Sarah. 
"And  so  kind  of  her."  Her  smile  became  frankly, 
exasperatedly  derisive.  "Kinder  than  you  know. 
That  particular  novel  was  written  about  her." 

"Oh?" 

"I  wrote  it  three  years  after  my  husband's 
death.  That  is,  three  years  less  a  week  after  I 
found  out  that  she  had  been  his  mistress  for 
years.   Many  years." 

The  young  woman's  professional  training  had 
covered  a  great  many  risks:  how  not  to  offend 
the  great  and  conceited,  how  to  handle  excitable 
foreigners,  what  to  do  when  a  woman  tells  you 
that  she  is  the  mother  of  the  Messiah— this 
happens  quite  often:  something  to  do  with  the 
voice  of  God  on  the  air.  She  had  not  been 
shown— and  nothing  in  the  shallows  of  her 
experience  helped  her— any  way  of  outfacing  a 
cynically    amused    mockery    of    herself   and    her 


want    ol    tact.    How    horrible    the   old    are,   she 
thought,  taken  aback. 

"I'm  so  sorry,"  she  said  thinly.  "I  wouldn't 
have  asked—" 

"Oh.  don't  worry.  I  don't  mind  in  the  least 
meeting  her."  Liar.  You  are  lying.  You  don't 
even  know  what  you're  saving  to  this  sallow  little 
goose.  "It  happened  so  long  ago,  1  .  .  .  There 
sin    is.    | list  coming  in.    D'you  see?" 

With  relief,  Miss  Head  jumped  up  to  go  and 
claim  the  woman  dawdling  auoss  the  hall.  .  .  . 
Doesn't  she  know  she's  a  quarter  of  an  hour  late? 
But  she  looks— thank  God— sane.  Pleasant. 
Though  what  a  figure. 

NO  FIGURE  at  all.  Elizabeth  Hume 
had,  as  they  say,  let  herself  go.  She  was  as 
tall  as  her  friend,  and  shapeless:  even  the  oval 
ol  her  lace  had  become  a  round  pale  moon,  the 
narrow  eyes  like  the  bright  edges  of  knives,  the 
head  covered  with  gray  curls,  as  untidy  as  though 
she  (topped  them  herself  with  the  scissors  she 
used  for  pruning  roses.  A  long  mouth,  its  smile 
showing  white  evenly  set  teeth,  obviously  her 
own,  a  long  chin,  an  almost  absurdly  small  nose. 
.  .  .  The  envy  Sarah  felt  was  purely  without 
vindictiveness.  ...  1  shall  never  reach  that  point 
of  indifference,  that— superiority.  .  .  .  The  exer- 
cises she  went  through  painfully  each  morning  to 
keep  herself  supple  were  suddenly  ridiculous, 
vulgar. 

"You  know  each  other,"  Miss  Head  said,  with 
a  trace  of  nervousness. 

"Very  well,"  Elizabeth  Hume  answered.  She 
looked  down  gravely  at  the  other  woman,  who 
had  not  moved  from  her  seat.  "How  are  you, 
Sarah?  You  haven't  changed." 

"Don't  be  absurd,"  Sarah  said.  "Fifteen  years 
...  at  our  age.  .  .  .  I've  changed  as  much  as 
you  have." 

Elizabeth  laughed,  a  muted  sound  coming 
from  deep  in  her  heavy  body.  Neither  this  laugh. 
nor  her  voice,  her  low  warm  voice,  its  very  flaws 
part  of  its  seduction,  had  aged  at  all. 

"At  least  you  haven't  put  on  flesh.  I'm  quite 
gross.  I'm  always  giving  up  cream,  and  I  always 
begin  on  it  again  at  once." 

"Shall  we  go  upstairs?" 

By  adopting  the  manner  and  tones  of  a  gov- 
erness, the  young  woman  hoped  to  induce,  if 
not  respect— one  shouldn't  ask  too  much— sub- 
mission and  good  conduct  in  her  elderly  charges. 
She  led  them  briskly  to  an  upper  floor,  and  along 
corridors  full  of  a  stifling  sluggish  air,  into  a 
small  room  so  exactly  what  you  imagine  secreted 
behind   the  net  curtains  of  genteel  weedv  little 


A     ST 


houses  that,  for  the  first  time,  the  two  women 
exchanged  smiles,  of  delight. 

"I've  ordered  some  tea  for  us.  I  expect  you'd 
like  some." 

"Tea?"  Elizabeth  drawled.  "Well,  yes.  Too 
early  for  anything  else." 

"We  can  talk  over  a  little  what  you're  going 
to  discuss— before  I  take  you  to  the  studio  for 
the  recording.  You've  broadcast  before,  of 
course." 

"I  have,"  Sarah  said.  "Once.  Twenty  years 
ago." 

The  emptily  professional  smile  again.  "I 
wasn't  here  then,  I'm  afraid." 

"You  were  in  your  cradle." 

"Not  quite.  .  .  .  Won't  you  eat  a  biscuit?  .  .  . 
Now"— she  turned  to  Elizabeth— "I  rather  liked 
one  of  the  topics  you  suggested  in  your  letter. 
Should  women  settle  down  in  middle  age,  or 
should  they  try  to  strike  out?  I  wonder  what  you, 
Mrs.  Jenner,  think." 

"Didn't  I  suggest  anything?"  Sarah  said  coldly. 

"Yes— yes,  you  did.  But  just  a  trifle  esoteric 
for  our  listeners,  I  thought.  We  can't,  you  know, 
fly  too  high." 

"I  always  said  you  were  too  intelligent," 
Elizabeth  murmured. 

"Really?  Yet  you  didn't  have  any  trouble— you 
and  George— in  making  a  fool  of  me." 

In  narrowing  her  eyes  Elizabeth  produced  the 
effect  of  a  cat  averting  its  face  from  an  indiscreet 
human  stare. 

"You  know  it  wasn't  anything  of  the  sort." 

"I  don't  know  anything!  I  don't  know  how  you 
managed  to  trick  me  for  so  many  years,  or  when 
it  began,  or  anything." 

"If  you  had  asked  me  .  .  ." 

"Why  should  I  imagine  you  would  tell  me 
the  truth?" 

"If  you  had  asked  me  about  it  at  the  time 
you  found  out,"  Elizabeth  said  gently,  "instead 
of  telling  me  never  to  come  near  you  again,  I 
would  have  told  you  everything.  Now  I've  for- 
gotten." 

"Forgotten?    You  say  you've  forgotten?" 

"Yes.    I  forget  everything." 

Miss  Head  spoke  in  an  indulgent  come-come- 
children  voice. 

"Aren't  we  forgetting  the  important  thing? 
We  were  deciding  what  topics  you  might  talk 
about  in"— she  had  been  going  to  say,  "in  a 
friendly  way,"  but  a  first  grain  of  delicacy 
checked  her— "in  a  few  minutes.  We  have  the 
one  topic,  which  perhaps  you  would  like  to 
explore  for  a  moment  while  I  .  .  .  while  I  make 
a  few  arrangements  .  .  .  excuse  me." 


ORY     BY     STORM     JAMESON  47 

She  felt  an  overwhelming  need  to  get  away 
from  them  for  a  minute.  With  a  rapidly  sink- 
ing heart,  she  reflected  that  this  was  perhaps 
going  to  be  the  first  fiasco,  and  a  grotesque  one, 
of  the  series.  Her  vanity  was  involved.  Outside, 
in  the  corridor,  she  caught  the  arm  of  a  friend 
who  was  passing,  and  said  in  a  despairing  voice, 

"My  dear,  they're  impossible.  I  can't  tell  you." 

"Who?" 

"These  two  old  girls,  writers,  I  dug  up.  Hume 
and  Jenner." 

"Sarah  Jenner?  My  mother  used  to  adore  her 
novels.    She  was  always  boring  me  with  them." 

"I  wish  your  mother  were  having  to  deal  with 
her  now.  I  must  go— I  shall  probably  find  one  of 
them  just  chewing  the  last  bone  and  whiskers 
of  the  other.    Incredible." 

OPENING  the  door  nervously,  she  found 
complete  harmony.  Elizabeth  was  saying, 

"The  delicious  thing  about  growing  old  is 
that  you  no  longer  care  what  anyone  thinks 
about  you.  For  the  first  time,  you  can  risk  being 
yourself,  not  the  timid  hypocrites  we  were 
brought  up  to  be,  you  and  I." 

"You  were  never  timid." 

"Yes.  Yes,  I  was.  Even  now  .  .  .  Dare  you 
cross  your  knees  in  public?  I  daren't.  The  voice 
of  Aunt  Alicia  reaches  me  from  her  grave.  'No 
decent  girl  sits  in  that  attitude.  An  immodest 
sitter  is  an  abomination  unto  the  Lord.'  And, 
nowadays,  my  figure  .  .  .  tell  me,  Sarah,  what 
do  you  do  to  keep  yours?  Oh"— she  had  caught 
sight  of  Miss  Head  at  her  elbow— "how  much 
longer  need  we  go  on  rehearsing?  If  this  is  a 
rehearsal.  You  know,  we  shan't  want  to  say  the 
same  things  twice— once  here  and  again  when 
we're  on  the  air." 

"There's  something  in  that,"  Miss  Head 
agreed.  The  changed  atmosphere  had  raised  her 
hopes.  She  smiled,  an  almost  personal  smile, 
such  as  she  gave  herself  when  she  passed  a 
wall-mirror.  "And  you've  just  started  another 
interesting  idea.   The  pleasures  of  growing  old." 

"Can  you,"  Sarah  Jenner  asked,  "at  your  age, 
believe  there  are  any?" 

"Indeed,  yes,"  Miss  Head  lied. 

"Wonderful." 

Is  she  laughing  at  me  again?  Miss  Head  asked 
herself  uneasily.  She  dropped  back  into  her 
manner  of  an  indulgent  governess,  trusted  and 
admired  by  her  little  charges. 

"Shall  we  go  along  to  the  studio?  I'll  explain 
things  there.  But  it's  quite  simple.  You  have 
only  to  talk— as  if  you  were  sitting  together  over 
a  cup  of  tea." 


18 


A     FRIENDLY     TALK 


"Oh,  nol  tea,"  Elizabeth  murmured. 

"  I  Ins  way." 

As  she  seated  them,  facing  each  other,  micro- 
phones between  them,  across  the  table,  .she 
noticed  that  Mrs.  fenner's  hands  were  shaking. 
.   .   .   Scared.    Pom    old    thing.    Lei's   hope   sin 

doesn't    di\    up V   glass    partition    divided 

the  small  studio  from  the  smaller  anteroom 
where  another  young  woman  was  waiting  to  try 
out  their  voices. 

"Please  speak  now.   A  lew   words.    Anything." 

"Do  I  have  to  stare  at  this  thing  all  the  time 
we're   talking?    It's   not   inspiring." 

"No,  Mrs.  Fenner,  you  tan  look  at  Miss  Hume, 
but   you   mustn't  shift   about  on   \oui    chair." 

"Sarah,  do  you  remember  when  you  were 
Admetus  in  the  end-of-term  play?  I  was  Alcestis, 
and  you  had  to  look  at  me  and  say:  'Oh  face, 
oh  form,  of  my  beloved  wife.'  .  .  .  You  never 
got  beyond  Oh  face'— we  began  to  giggle  and 
went  on  until  they  had  to  bring  the  curtain 
down   on    us." 

Sarah  laughed. 

Miss  Head  went  out  and  came  back  in  a  mo- 
ment to  say  that  Miss  Hume's  voice  was  exactly 
right.  She  moved  Sarah's  microphone  nearer  to 
her,  told  them  carefully,  in  the  simplest  words, 
when  the  recording  would  start,  listened  for  a 
moment  to  Elizabeth  Hume's  voice  saying, 
"Don't  you  agree,  Sarah,  that  at  forty,  a  woman 
.  .  ."  and  crept  silently  into  the  anteroom,  her 
mind  almost  at  rest.  .  .  .  After  all,  they're  not 
quite  cracked.  And  what  a  voice— like  cream, 
like  a  cello,  like  a  cat  pouring  itself  across  your 
ankles.  .  .  .  Lulled  by  it,  she  closed  her  eyes— 
and  opened  them,  shocked  by  a  burst  of  brutal 
laughter  in  the  studio.  .  .  .  What,  for  heaven's 
sake,  have  they  been  saying? 

AM  I  really  sitting  opposite  her,  opposite 
Elizabeth?  Why  did  I  let  it  happen?  I 
distrust  her,  I  hate  her,  I.  .  .  .  Her  throat  felt 
as  though  she  had  swallowed  a  splinter  of  glass. 
.  .  .  Do  I  hate  her?  Or  did  I  only  want  to  see 
lor  myself  that  she  is  an  old  woman,  a  woman 
no  man  will  ever  fall  in  love  with  again,  a 
clown,  a  caricature  of  herself?  Am  I  appeased 
now?  satisfied?  contemptuous?— she  needn't  have 
let  herself  become  slack  and  shapeless— or  so 
pleased  to  see  hei  that  I  don't  care  about  any- 
thing else?     Don't  ask,  don't  ask! 

Leaning  sideways  to  see  past  the  microphones 
—the  very  movement  the  young  woman  had 
warned  her  not  to  make— she  said, 

"Yes,  that's  ail  very  well,  but  why  should  a 
woman,  onlv  because  she  has  reached  her  fortieth 


biitlidiv  lu  i  fiftieth,  loi  that  mallei —cease  to 
caie  whethei  she's  slim,  interesting  to  other 
people,  ac  tive?" 

"Because  it's  not  important  lor  her  to  interest 
Miliei  people.  It  nevej  was.  A  young  woman— 
because  she  wants  to  get  married,  or  to  be 
praised,  or  see  her  photograph  in  the  magazines 
von  read  at  hairdressers'— not  that  1  go  to  a 
haiichessci  now— imagines  it  is.  By  the  time  she- 
is  fifty.  .  .  ." 

"And  her  husband,  if  she  has  one?"  Sarah 
said  icilv.  dangerously.  "Is  he  supposed  not  to 
cue    whethei  she  gets  fat  or  not?" 

"Even  a  husband  isn't  so  important  as  the 
moment  when  you  stretch  youi  arms,  yawn,  and 
say:  Now,  thank  God,  I  can  take  my  shoes 
off.  .  .  .  How  much  d'you  spend  on  lace  creams 
a  year,  Sarah? 

"None  of  your  business." 

"Good  business  for  someone.  You're  much  too 
smooth  for  your  age— which  is  the  same  as  mine. 
I  lake  my  cream  internally— neat,  or  with  mar- 
malade, with  mushrooms,  with  veal,  in  souffles." 

"Yes.  I  can  see  you  do.  Ii  shows." 

Elizabeth  laughed.  After  a  moment  Sarah 
joined  her,  on  a  louder  jeering  note,  and  thev 
laughed  together.  Sarah  struck  the  table  with  a 
doubled  fist. 

"Your  Aunt  Alicia— aboiniiiation-unto-the- 
Lord— would  have  prescribed  a  corset  for  you 
like  the  ones  she  wore.  Do  you  remember?  — 
eau-de-Nil  satin,  boned,  almost  to  the  knees,  six 
pairs  ol   suspenders.  .  .  ." 

"No,  that  was  inv  Aunt  Thomas  Clarkson,  my 
father's  sister,  the  one  who  had  the  cats  and  the 
two  mulbeuv  trees,  and  gave  us  port  and  seed 
cake  on  Sunday  morning  alter  church." 

"You  see,"  Sarah  cried,  "you  do  remember 
things!  It's  not  true  that  you  forget  everything." 

"Ah,  yes,  real  things— I  remember  those.  I  tor- 
get  the  others." 

The  fever  of  excitement,  jealousy,  anger, 
longing,  in  Sarah's  veins  sank  as  though  the 
other  woman  had  laid  a  cool  hand  on  her.  But 
it's  true!  Real  things— yes.  Real  their  young 
lives,  the  village,  the  smell  of  peat  and  wood- 
smoke,  the  bare  boards  of  the  schoolroom,  the 
icy  cold  of  bedrooms  in  her  father's  gaunt  stone 
house,  the  heat  of  August  on  the  moor,  the  ci a/v 
laughter,  the  trust.  Nothing  since  had  had  that 
peculiar  flavor  of  freedom  and  happiness. 
Nothing  since  that  violent  young  world  had 
been  as  real,  neither  ambition,  nor  success- 
such  as  it  was— nor  the  heartache,  the  scalding 
tears,  the  anger  carefully-nursed,  the  months 
and  years  of  useless  bitterness.  .  .  . 


A     STORY     BY     STORM     JAMESON  49 


She  smiled  at  her  friend.  "D'you  remember 
the  way  one  took  to  get  to  the  Burnt  Mill?" 

"Yes,  of  course,"  Elizabeth  murmured. 

With  a  sudden  confidence,  with  joy,  they 
found  themselves  walking  about  their  childhood, 
retracing  paths  known  only  to  themselves,  in 
bare  feet  crossing  a  stream,  stopping  to  laugh, 
correct  each  other,  quarrel,  and  laugh  again.  .  .  . 
At  some  point,  Sarah  became  aware  of  Miss 
Head  standing  beside  her,  flushed,  with  an  ex- 
pression of  anguish,  holding  a  piece  of  paper 
she  laid  down  under  Sarah's  eyes.  .  .  .  Don't 
sway  from  side  to  side  to  look  at  Miss  Hume. 
Don't  bang  on  the  table.  .  .  .  Sarah  brushed  the 
note  out  of  the  way.  She  had  not  taken  it  in. 
It  had  no  relevance  to  the  minutes  she  was  liv- 
ing through.  All  these  years  she  had  been  alone, 
and  now   .   .   .   now.   .   .   . 

Miss  Head  vanished.  After  a  short  time,  there 
she  was  again,  speaking  aloud,  in  a  dry  voice. 

"Didn't  either  of  you  notice  that  the  recording 
was  over?" 

WITH  a  violent  start  and  a  feeling  of 
guilt,  Sarah  pulled  herself  together  to 
attend  to  the  young  woman,  whose  voice  con- 
veyed something  sharper  than  impatience.  From 
Elizabeth's  expression  she  saw  that  she,  too,  felt 
guilty— she  hurriedly  looked  away,  afraid  that 
she  might  laugh  at  the  spectacle  of  two  elderly 
and  once  well-known  women  hanging  their  heads 
before  this  absurd  young  female  official. 

"Oh.  No,  I  didn't  notice.  .  .  .  Then  we  can 
go  now?" 

"Yes,  you  can." 

"I'm  afraid  we  made  too  much  noise,"  Eliza- 
beth said. 

Miss  Head  made  a  dogged  effort  to  smile. 

"Oh,  it  doesn't  matter.  .  .  .  I'll  take  you  down- 
stairs." 

In    the   lift,   Elizabeth   said  gaily, 

"What  time  is  it?  Five?  After  five.  Almost  time 
for  a  drink,  don't  you  think?  By  the  time  we 
reach  my  club  ...  or  would  you  rather  go 
somewhere  else,  more  amusing?" 

"I'm  afraid  I  .  .  .  perhaps  some  other  day," 
Miss  Head  said. 

Too  late  she  saw— from  the  astonished  glance, 
a  blue  Hash  under  lowered  eyelids,  that  Sarah 
Jenner  gave  her,  and  from  the  other  woman's 
raised  eyebrows— that  it  had  never  entered  their 
heads  to  invite  her  to  come  with  them.  She 
blushed. 

"Oh,"  Sarah  said,  "you've  had  quite  enough 
of  us." 


Elizabeth  yawned  and  asked,  "When  are  you 
going  to  broadcast  our  talk?" 

"Don't  be  silly,"  Sarah  said,  smiling,  "she's 
not  going  to  use  it.   Didn't  you  realize  that?" 

"Isn't  she?  Why  not?" 

Miss  Head  was  saved,  by  the  opening  of  the 
lift  doors,  from  having  to  answer.  She  took  a 
few  stiff  steps  with  them  into  the  hall,  shook 
hands,  and  watched  them  walk  away,  their  very 
backs  giving  away  an  undeserved  and  unseemly 
happiness.  She  hurried  back  to  her  room.  A  col- 
league who  had  been  waiting  for  her  asked, 

"What,  my  poor  girl,  have  you  done  with  your 
two  old  reprobates?" 

"They've  gone  off,  arm  in  arm,  as  pleased  as 
if  they'd  been  terribly  clever.  My  God,  if  I 
thought  I'd  be  anything  like  it  when  I'm  their 
age.   .   .  ." 

"Like  what?" 

"Cynical,  mocking,  utterly  unmanageable,  and 
impossible.  Imagine  being  like  either  of  them!" 

"Don't  worry.  .  .  .  You  won't   he." 


Harper's  Magazine,  June  1958 


Wolfgang  Langewiesche 


the  new 

JET  AIR  LINERS 


Everybody  in  the  air  lines  is  going 

to  school  these  days,  learning 

how  to  live  with  the  new  jet  liners. 

\\  hy  not  a  briefing  for  the  passenger? 

YOU'LL  find  the  take-off  disappointing. 
The  jet  noise  reverberates  from  the  ground 
.ind  is  loud.  And  no  mighty  force  pulls  you  back 
into  your  scat,  as  on  the  propeller  airplane.  The 
acceleration  is  sluggish.  And  the  run  is  long. 
She  runs  and  runs,  faster  and  faster,  and  still  she 
inns,  till  you  begin  to  take  alarm.  Is  something 
wrong?    Won't   she   fly? 

It's  all  tight.  You've  met  the  jet  engine's  main 
characteristic,  and  the  reason  why  most  cities  arc 
building  longer  runways:  the  jet  airplane  be- 
haves like  a  car  that  has  only  one  gear— high. 
It's  got  to  be  going  before  it  can  really  get  going. 
The  propeller  airplane  is  like  a  car  with  low 
gear,  second— and  no  high;  it  starts  gloriously, 
but  can't  reach  really  high  speeds.  The  jet  engine 
thrives  on  speed:  as  the  pilot  keeps  building  up 
speed  past  100  mph,  the  jet  begins  to  come  into 
its  own.  And  when  he  lifts  it  off,  at  165  mph, 
the  jet  liner  begins  to  show  its  stuff.  She  still 
keeps  speeding  up— to  300  mph— as  she  also 
( limbs.  For  that  first  minute  you  get  the  same 
feeling  of  space-mastery  as  in  a  high-powered  car 
that  will  speed  up  while  climbing  a  steep  hill. 
The  noise  now  has  faded  and  fallen  behind. 
The  front  half  of  the  cabin  becomes  very  quiet; 
the  rear  half,  quiet.  (Opposite  from  conditions 
on  propeller  airplanes.)  In  a  few  minutes  all 
familiar  landmarks  are  far  behind  and  deep  be- 
low. The  airplane  becomes  a  time  capsule.  You 
sit  in  it  for  a  while.  .  .  . 

Typical  cruise  is  at  36,000  feet,  550  mph.  This 
is  twice  as  high,  twice  as  last  as  the  big  propeller- 


ships  fly.   The  speed  sensation  is  the  same— mild, 
but  the  resultl 

New  York-Paris,  7i/2  hours.  Paris-New  York,  a 
little  slow (i  because  ol  winds,  is  even  better  be- 
cause  ol  the  six  hour  time  difference.  Leave  alter 
the  theater:  arrive  New  York  in  time  lor  a  night's 
sleep! 

This  speed  costs  nothing  extra.  On  the  At- 
lantic the  jets,  right  from  the  start,  will  carry  the 
new  "thrill"  class;  on  domestic  runs,  tourist. 
That's  the  big  difference  between  the  American 
jet  program  and  the  earlier  British,  Russian. 
French  ones:  the  American  jet  program  is  eco- 
nomical. Those  others  were  extra-fare  prestige 
builders.  The  American  jets  arc'  simply  machines 
that  deliver  the  passenger-mile  more  cheaply  than 
previous  machines. 

Until  that  was  possible  the  air  lines  did  not 
want  jets— and  neither  did  a  mere  prestige  air- 
plane fit  into  the  tradition  of  the  American 
manufacturers,  which  is  to  build  money-makers. 
Each  ol  the  Douglas  transport  models,  for  ex- 
ample, has  delivered  the  passenger-mile  more 
cheaply  than  the  preceding  model,  usually  by 
about  20  per  cent.  The  jets  may  not  cut  flying 
costs  by  quite  so  much,  but  they  should  be  the 
cheapest-flying  planes  yet.  And  they  will  lly  so 
cheaply  not  despite  their  speed,  but  because  of 
their  speed! 

That's  the  answer  to  those  who  ask:  "Why  do 
the  air  lines  offer  still  faster  travel  when  what  I 
need  is  cheaper  travel?"  Speed  is  a  good  way  to 
cut  flying  costs.  Speed  doesn't  cost,  it  pays.  We 
think  of  speed  as  a  luxury  that  costs  money.  But 
the  taxi-driver  drives  so  fast  not  to  please  you, 
but  to  get  rid  of  you  sooner  and  pick  up  a  new 
fare:  he  makes  better  use  of  his  car  and  of  his 
time. 

The  air  lines  figure  the  same  way,  only  more 
so.  In  the  air,  speed  is  easier  to  get.  On  the 
surface,  speed  is  limited  by  air  and  water  resis- 


BY     WOLFGANG     LANGEWIESCHE 


51 


tance.  For  ships,  cars,  or  trains  to  go  from  A  to 
B  twice  as  last,  you  need  lour  times  the  fuel  and 
eight  times  as  big  an  engine.  The  proposition 
soon  becomes  impractical— like  trying  to  run 
when  you  are  waist-deep  in  water.  But  the  air- 
plane evades  this  law;  it  simply  goes  up  higher. 
At  36,000  feet  the  air  is  only  one-fourth  as  thick 
as  at  sea  level,  and  offers  only  one-fourth  the 
resistance.    That's  why  the  jets  cruise   there. 

That  the  passenger  also  likes  speed  is  a  happy 
circumstance;  but  what  really  counts  is  the  in- 
creased productivity— just  as  it  would  with  a 
high-speed  bottling  machine  or  high-speed  print- 
ing press.  The  productivity  of  these  fast,  big 
jets  is  incredible.  They  carry  almost  twice  as 
many  people  almost  twice  as  fast  as  previous  air- 
planes. A  150-seat  jet  liner  that  makes  the  trans- 
atlantic round-trip  in  a  day  produces  as  much 
transport  as  a  big  steamship  that  carries  2,100 
passengers! 

WHY  THEY  LOOK  THAT  WAY 

YO  U  look  at  such  a  machine  with  respect. 
In  airplanes  there  is  no  mere  styling.  What 
you  see,  the  outside  shape  of  the  machine,  is 
pretty  well  "the  works."  It's  on  this  outside 
shape  that  the  air  acts.  Every  line  has  a  purpose. 

Why  those  swept-back  wings?  They  are  the 
airplane's  tribute  to  the  sound  barrier.  The  jet 
liner  does  not  "break  the  sound  barrier."  It  stays 
just  this  side  of  it.  It  is  a  "high  sub-sonic,"  not 
a  "super-sonic"  airplane.  Economical  Cruise  will 
be  at  82  per  cent  of  the  speed  of  sound,  Fast 
Cruise  at  88  per  cent. 

How  fast  is  that?  Sound  speed  varies  with  air 
temperature.  Under  average  conditions,  at  36,- 
000  feet,  the  two  speeds  will  be  541  mph  and 
581  mph.  Fifteen  years  ago,  when  airplanes  first 
ran  into  speed-of-sound  trouble  but  were  still 
designed  without  much  regard  for  the  problem, 
72  per  cent  of  sound  was  the  usual  speed  limit. 
It  could  be  reached,  in  propeller-driven  air- 
planes, only  in  a  dive;  and  if  you  exceeded  it, 
the  airplane  usually  went  out  of  control  and 
kept  right  on  diving  into  the  ground.  Today's 
airplane  is  ahead  in  three  respects.  The  speed 
limit  is  up:  with  jet-drive  the  airplane  can  reach 
it  in  level  flight,  and  the  limit  is  no  longer 
absolute;  if  you  exceed  it,  the  airplane  shakes 
and  rattles  as  if  running  over  cobblestones,  but 
stays  under  control.  The  Boeing  jet  liner  has 
been  flown  to  95  per  cent  of  sound-speed  and 
perhaps  faster.  And  all  this  is  due  mostly  to  this 
swept-back  wing. 

How  sweep-back  works  you  understand,  or  at 


least  feel,  if  you  hold  a  safety  razor  so  that  it 
slides  slightly  sidewise  over  the  skin.  It  cuts 
better  that  way.  The  swept-back  wing  cuts 
through  the  air  in  that  same  sidewise-slicing 
fashion,  and  becomes  in  effect  thinner,  sharper, 
and  more  knife-like.  The  troubles  of  the  sound 
barrier  come  from  hitting  the  air  too  abruptly, 
not  giving  it  time  to  flow  out  of  the  way  of  the 
oncoming  thing  and  to  flow  together  properly 
behind  it:  and  this  more  finely-cutting,  sidewise- 
slicing  shape  demands  a  little  less  of  the  air  and 
gives  it  a  little  more  time:  the  difference  between 
speed  limits  at  72  and  88  per  cent  of  sound. 

This  wing  is  also  an  engineering  marvel  in 
other  respects.  It's  hollow  and  is  at  the  same  time 
the  airplane's  fuel  tank.  It  will  hold  as  much  as 
an  incredible  70  tons  of  kerosene— as  much  as 
five  big,  highway  tank-trucks.  It  is  also  elastic; 
the  airplane  rides  on  it  as  if  on  springs.  It 
cushions  the  effects  of  rough  air  which,  on  stiff 
wings  at  550  mph,  could  be  a  vicious  slamming. 

In  rough  air  the  up-and-down  swing  of  the 
wing  tips  is  large.  The  spring  action  does  not  lie 
directly  in  these  visible  motions.  It  lies  in  what 
these  slight  changes  in  wing-shape  do  to  the 
wing's  lift-force.  When  the  airplane  flies  into 
an  upward  gust  ("a  bump"),  the  wing,  in  the 
upward-bent  position,  also  reduces  the  lift-force 
and  thus  eases  the  upward  shove.  In  a  down- 
ward gust  ("an  air  pocket")  the  wing,  in  the 
downward-bent  attitude,  develops  extra  lift, 
and  thus  does  not  let  the  bottom  drop  out  from 
under  you. 

The  jet  liner  has  a  new  device— two  ailerons 
on  each  wing— two  of  those  control  surfaces  that 
bank  and  unbank  the  airplane.  One  is  in  the 
usual  position  at  the  wing-tip;  the  other,  more 
inboard. 

Why  two?  In  designing  an  aileron,  the  en- 
gineer faces  a  dilemma.  For  slow  flight,  the  con- 
trol-surface should  be  big,  or  control  is  too 
sluggish.  The  pilot  complains  he  turns  the  wheel 
and  nothing  much  happens.  If  a  gust  hits  the 
airplane  just  before  landing,  he  may  hook  a 
wing-tip  to  the  ground.  For  fast  flight  an  aileron 
should  be  small— or  it  may  be  too  strong,  and 
instead  of  lifting  the  wing  it  may  merely  twist 
it  and  have  no  effect.  The  problem  is  almost 
as  old  as  the  airplane  itself.  But  with  increasing 
speed  and  airplane  size,  the  difference  becomes 
more  difficult  to  straddle.  Hence  the  two  ailerons. 
The  one  at  the  wing  tip  is  tor  slow  speed  work, 
the  inboard  one  for  high  speed.  When  the  pilot 
puts  the  flaps  clown  for  landing,  his  control 
wheel  automatically  connects  up  with  the  slow- 
speed  aileron. 


52  THE     NEW      JET      \  I  R     LINE 

But  wh\  jet  engines?  The  regular  airplane 
engine  was  the  mosl  nearly  perfect  mechanism 
evei   made.    Win   k i»  k  out  Old   Faithful? 

More  push  in  high  speed  flight,  is  one  answer. 
More  powei  in  oik-  package,  is  another.  Both 
spell  out  the  same  thing:  the  conventional  piston 
engine,  driving  .1  conventional  propeller,  has 
about  reached  its  limit.  The  propeller  has  a 
speed  limit  ol  about  150  mph.  This  is  because 
the  propeller  blade  (which,  ol  ionise,  travels 
l.istei  than  the  airplane  itsell  does,  since  it  liter- 
all\  travels  in  circles  around  the  airplane)  hits 
the  sound  barrier,  and  beyond  100  mph  its  ef- 
ficiency rapidly  fades  out.  Supersonic  propellers 
may  come— the  Russians  ate  flying  one  now— but 
right  now  the  onl\  practical  way  to  drive  an  air- 
plane beyond  500  mph  is  the  jet. 

\s  lot  the  piston  engine  itsell.  it  simply  lacks 
power.  Ii  hit  a  ceiling  during  World  Wat  II— 
.11  about  4,000  horsepower.  Mosl  sucicsslul  en- 
gines  aie  below  that.  This  is  because  a  piston 
engine  can  achieve  such  powei  only  by  an  im- 
believabl)  complex  piling  of  parts  upon  parts. 
Ii  ma\  have  28  cylinders,  with  f><i  valves  popping 


RS 


up  and  down.  ,">(>  sp.nk  plugs,  operated  l>\  II 
ignition  sWems,  and  so  on.  \nd  ,iii\  one  ol 
these  parts,  b\  tailing,  can  make  the  whole  thing 
fail.  Add  still  anothei  14  cylinders?  No  engineei 
has  the  guts  to  ti\  it.  No  pilot  would  want  to 
IK   it. 


MUFFLING     THE     NOISY     SPOT 

BUT  the  jet  engine— still  only  at  the  be 
ginning  ol  its  development  -packs  three  or 
loin  times  as  much  power  as  the  piston  engine, 
and  does  so  in  a  smaller,  lightei  package.  Ibis 
bigger  engine  makes  ii  possible  to  build  a  bigger 
airplane,  and  tin  jet  liner's  si/e  is  as  important 
as  its  speed  in  making  it  economical.  You  can't 
make  money  with  an  airplane  that's  too  small. 
And  you  (ant  build  bit;  airplanes  without  big 
engines.  To  use  mote  than  lour  engines  on  a 
transport  airplane  has  nevei  worked  out  well; 
ion  111.1 1 1  \  problems  ol  efficiency,  ol  mutual  inter- 
ference between  propellers,  ol  control  in  case 
ol  engine  failure.  So  power-per-engine  has  pretty 
well  paced  the    development  of  aviation. 


FABLE   FOR   BLACKBOARD 

here  is  the  gracklc,  people. 
I  [ere  is  the  fox,  folks. 
The  grackle  sits  in  the  bracken.    The  fox 
hopes. 

Here  are  the    fronds,   friends, 
that  cover  the  fox. 

The  fronds  get   in  a  frenzy.    The  grackle 
looks. 

Here  are  the  ticks,  t\kes, 
that  live  in  the  leaves,  loves. 
I  he  lox  is  confounded, 
and  God   is  above. 

—Geo)  or  Starbuck 


BY     WOLFGANG     LANGEWIESCHE 


53 


Inside  the  airplane,  engine  noise  is  no  prob- 
lem. Outside,  it  is.  At  least,  the  Port  of  New 
York  Authority  says  so,  and  since  it  controls  the 
air  lines'  access  to  the  world's  biggest  source  oi 
passenger  traffic,  its  opinion  counts.  The  Au- 
thority won't  permit  a  jet  at  Idlewild  until  it 
has  passed  a  special  noise  test.  This  has  already 
led  to  a  wave  of  bureaucratic  retaliation:  Britain 
and  France,  where  the  extremely  noisy  Comets 
had  operated  without  causing  a  stir,  will  now 
subject  American  airplanes  to  noise  tests  before 
they  allow  them  to  fly  there. 

Jet  noise  does  not  come  right  from  the  nozzle 
where  the  air  shoots  out,  but  50  feet  or  so  behind 
the  airplane  in  the  free  air!  This  is  what  makes 
the  noise  hard  to  control.  You  can't  surround 
the  noisy  spot  with  sound-muffling  surfaces.  But, 
fortunately,  the  British  have  meanwhile  dis- 
covered where  jet  noise  comes  from:  in  the 
boundary  surface  where  the  outshooting  jet-blast 
rubs  the  surrounding  still  air,  small  whirls  form 
like  tiny  spinning  tops.  It  is  they  that  screech 
and  hiss  and  thunder.  But  the  British  found  you 
can  tone  down  jet  noise  by  so  shaping  the  jet 
nozzle  that  the  out-shooting  air  stream  has  more 
rubbing  surface  with  surrounding  air  and  slows 
down  sooner. 

This  general  idea  has  produced  quite  different 
looking  noise-suppression  devices,  developed  by 
different  engine  and  airplane  manufacturers. 
One  you  will  probably  see:  instead  of  the  usual 
round  nozzle,  one  that  is  star-shaped  in  cross 
section.  The  Boeing  has,  instead  of  one  big 
nozzle  behind  each  engine,  twenty-one  small 
nozzles  like  a  battery  of  trumpets.  This  cuts  the 
noise  down.  Trouble  is— it  also  cuts  the  power 
down— probably  4  per  cent  on  take-off,  2  per  cent 
in  the  cruise.  This  doesn't  sound  like  much  of  a 
sacrifice  to  the  public  peace,  but  if  you  cut  an 
airplane's  power  you  reduce,  by  a  tremendous 
leverage,  its  take-off  performance,  its  useful  load, 
its  cruising  range.  The  proportions  depend  on 
air  conditions,  runway  length,  length  of  flight. 
But  a  4  per  cent  power  cut  may  well  mean  a 
20  per  cent  cut  in  payload,  or  you  may  have  to 
cut  the  fuel  load,  and  lose  the  all-important 
ability  to  fly  non-stop  for  long  distances. 

So  there's  a  limit  on  sound  suppression,  and 
airports  are  not  going  to  be  quiet.  Noise  patterns 
will  change:  near  the  airports,  more  noise; 
farther  away,  less  noise  because  the  airplanes  will 
quickly  climb  so  high.  To  the  public  in  the 
passenger  station  the  main  nuisance  will  be 
"compressor  whine,"  a  nasty  high  sound  that 
comes  from  the  intake  end  of  the  jet  engine.  In 
flight,  this  noise  is  so  high-pitched  it's  inaudible. 


But  on  the  ramp  it's  unpleasant.  Fortunately,  a 
glass  pane  can  keep  it  out  of  a  building. 

But  the  whole  noise  problem  is  largely 
trumped  up.  Or  it  exists  because  it  can  be  so 
easily  trumped  up.  Jet  noise  is  a  fine  thing  for 
politicians  and  newspapers  to  come  out  fearlessly 
against.  The  courts  have  not  yet  ruled  on  all  the 
problems  connected  with  operation  of  an  airport, 
and  airport  owners  still  feel  vulnerable  to  law- 
suits. But  experience  shows  that  most  people, 
most  of  the  time,  don't  mind  jet  noise. 

The  Boeing  jet,  on  test  flights  all  over  the 
country,  has  usually  just  taxied  up  to  the  ramp, 
let  people  in  or  out,  and  taxied  away  again,  all 
under  its  own  power:  no  blast  fences,  ramps, 
soundproofing,  no  earmuffs  on  the  personnel,  no 
towing-in  by  tractors.  And  people  always  crowd 
up  close  to  it— men,  women,  babes  in  arms  don't 
find  the  noise  so  unbearable.  Jet  fighters  have 
been  test-flown  for  years  off  the  Los  Angeles 
International  Airport,  right  among  other  traffic, 
and  nobody  has  suffered.  In  Wichita,  Kansas, 
there's  both  training  and  testing  in  jet  bombers 
all  day  long  and  the  traffic  pattern  is  right  over 
the  edge  of  town;  but  life  goes  on.  Compressor 
whine  has  been  with  us  for  years  now— the  Vis- 
count has  it.  Because  it  comes  from  an  airplane 
the  public  likes,  the  noise  doesn't  seem  so  bad. 
With  jet  noise,  too,  much  will  depend  on  peo- 
ple's feeling  about  the  airplane.  When  you  hear 
the  big  jets  go  out  at  night  across  the  city, 
chances  are  you'll  say: 

"There  goes  the  non-stop  to  Rio.  One  of  these 
nights,  boy,  I'm  going  to  be  on  it!" 

SAFETY,     PLUS     AND     MINUS 

HO  W  safe  is  it?  Ten  years  ago  you  would 
have  said:  "If  people  want  to  travel  at  jet 
speeds,  they  will  naturally  have  to  take  some 
extra  chances."  But  no.  To  be  licensed  as  an  air 
liner,  an  airplane  has  to  comply  with  a  thick 
book  of  safety  regulations  which  were  interna- 
tionally standardized  at  the  end  of  the  war  and 
are  very  detailed,  very  exacting.  They  prescribe 
strength  of  structure,  stability  and  control 
characteristics,  fireproofing,  emergency  exits,  per- 
formance with  one  or  two  engines  inoperative, 
and  1,001  other  points  which  experience  has 
shown  to  be  important  for  safety.  And  the  jet 
liners,  incredibly,  have  been  squeezed  into  this 
existing  framework  of  safety.  As  far  as  safety  is 
measurable  beforehand,  then,  a  jet  liner  is  as 
safe  as  a  DC-6  and  safer  than  the  pre-war  DC-3. 
But  all  transport  airplanes  since  the  war  have 
complied    with    that    book,    and    all    have    not 


54  THE     NEW     JET     AIR     LINERS 


llw  Child-Centered  Home 


w 


ll  1  N  we  amu  I > i < » 1 1 1^ ] 1 1  up  there  was 
out  extreme-  we  were  kept  in  the  attic, 
while  our  parents  lived  in  the  bes( 
rooms;  now  it's  jusi  the  othei  way— 
the  parents  are  in  the  washhouse,  while 
the  children  are  in  the  besl  rooms. 
I'. innts  now  are  not  expected  to  live 
.a    all,   but   to  exist    for   their  children. 

Natalie    to    Kitt\    in     ["olstoy's    Anna 
Karenina,    L875  77. 


proved  sale.  The  book  does  not  mean  everything. 
Let's  attempt  an  independent  audit. 

Any  newly  designed,  radicall)  differenl  air- 
plane is  a  little  less  salt  because  it  is  new. 
A  yeai  oi  so  ol  service  will  bring  out  bugs  (hat 
were  dormant  during  the  original  test  program. 
Everyone  remembers  the  early  Constellation 
troubles,  the  Comet  disasters,  Bui  at  the  same 
time,  the  new  airplane  is  also  safer  because  it  is 
new:  it  represents  a  later  state  of  the  art.  So 
there  is  a  plus  and  a  minus.  Mow  they  will 
balance  timing  the  first  couple  ol  years,  nobody 
(an  foretell  exactly.  While  some  airplanes  have 
had  terrible  newness  troubles,  others  have  slid 
into  service  without  much.  Two  examples  have 
been  the  Boeing  Stratocruiser  and  the  Vickers 
Viscount,  each  at  the  time  of  its  introduction  a 
complicated  and  radically  new  airplane.  At  any 
rate,  this  is  certain:  the  new  wears  off,  and  the 
gains  remain.  In  the  case  ol  the  jet  liner  the 
gains  are  particularly  impressive.  What  are  they? 

Gain  number  1.  No  more  propeller.  This  is 
the  gain  that  most  impresses  pilots.  The  pro- 
peller, once  a  hunk  of  wood  and  utterly  reliable, 
has  become  complicated  and  the  most  dangerous 
part  of  the  airplane.  It  has  caused  more  than  its 
share  of  accidents  and  close  tails. 

Here  is  the  problem.  The  propeller,  in  pulling 
(he  airplane,  also  performs  the  services  of  a 
gear-shift.  On  take-off,  it  works  in  low;  in  the 
cruise,  in  overdrive.  If  an  engine  fails,  it  goes 
into  neutral.  During  the  landing  run,  the  pro- 
pellers can  be  put  in  reverse  and  used  as  a  brake. 
While  all  this  works,  it's  very  very  good;  the 
whole  efficiency  of  the  modern  airplane  hinges  on 
it.    But  if  it  doesn't  work,  it's  horrid. 


Anil   sometimes   it    doesn't    work.    The   gen 
shifting   is   done   by    twisting   each    blade    in    its 
socket  where  it  is  attached  to  the  propellei  huh. 
You  tan  imagine  how  complicated  the  mechanism 

must    he.   since   the   propeller  hub   itsell    is   doing 

twenty  revolutions  per  second.  How  do  you  even 
gel  at  the  blade,  to  twist  it?  Even  more  complex 
aic  the  governors' and  safety-switches  that  make 
this  gear-shifting  automatic.  Complication  makes 
loi    trouble. 

So  engines  have  failed  and  propellers  have  not 
"feathered"  (gone  into  neutral).  II  that  happens, 
the  aii  plane  is  badly  crippled,  is  difficult  to  con- 
trol, may  be  unable  to  hold  altitude.  Worse, 
engines  have  not  failed  and  the  propeller  tlid 
"feather"!  Propellers  have  gone  into  reverse 
during  the  approach  glide.  The)  have  suddenly 
gone  into  low  in  cruising  Might :  the  braking 
effect  then  is  terrific,  and  if  it  happens  over  the 
ocean,  the  airplane  may  be  unable  to  reach  land. 
Propelleis  have  also  come  apart  in  the  air. 

In  a  jet,  with  tin  propeller  gone,  all  these  pos- 
sibilities ne  gone.  This  is  a  great  gain,  especially 
in  a  situation  that  is  much  on  pilots'  minds— 
failure  ol  an  engine  right  after  take-off.  A  dead 
jet  engine,  while  it  does  not  help,  at  least  can't 
hinder.  There  is  nothing  special  the  pilot  must 
tlo— nothing  he  can  do— just  fly  the  plane  right. 
The  jet  takes  normally  a  longer  runway  than  the 
propellei  airplane  does,  but  an  engine  failure 
during  take  oil  hurts  it  much  less. 

Gain  number  2.  A  more  reliable  engine.  The 
jet  engine  still  needs  frequent  overhauls,  but  be- 
tween overhauls  it  is  now  as  reliable  as  the 
piston  engine— will  soon  be  more  so.  And— a 
new  discovery— typical  jet  engine  troubles  usu- 
ally show  up  many  hours  beforehand  as  typical 
small  discrepancies  in  the  instrument  readings. 
So  there's  a  gootl  chance  that  engine  failure  in 
flight,  rare  enough  anyhow,  will  practically  never 
happen.  The  crew  will  report  the  trouble  signals 
and  the  engine  will  be  changed  before  take-off. 

Gain  number  3.  More  speed,  more  altitude. 
In  the  air,  speed  is  not  dangerous.  There's  noth- 
ing to  hit.  On  the  contrary,  speed  gives  you 
mastery:  winds  become  less  important,  can  delay 
you  less.  Weather  forecasts  at  your  destination 
are  more  reliable  because  they  have  to  be  made 
for  fewer  hours  ahead.  Altitude,  too,  is  an 
element  of  mastery.  For  twenty-five  years,  air- 
lines have  dreamed  of  "over-weather  flight."  They 
used  to  think  that  15,000  feet  would  tlo  it.  Today, 
we  know  that  even  20,000  feet  is  not  enough.  But 
the  jets,  at  35,000,  will  practically  make  it.  They 


BY     WOLFGANG     LANGEWIESCHE 


still  can't  top  all  weather.  Some  thunderstorms 
reach  up  to  60,000  feet!  But,  up  there,  they 
appear  as  isolated  cloud-towers,  easy  to  go 
around.  The  jets  will  cruise  in  sunshine  practi- 
cally all  the  time. 

SEAMS     TO     STOP     A     FATAL     RIP 

BU  T  the  Comet  was  a  victim  of  high  altitude. 
The  higher  an  airplane  flies,  the  greater 
must  be  the  pressure  difference  between  inside 
the  cabin  and  the  outside.  On  the  Comet,  a 
small  hair-line  crack  had  formed  in  a  minor  part 
—a  window  frame.  This,  in  itself,  was  not  the 
cause  of  the  disaster.  It  could  have  been,  should 
have  been,  just  a  small  air  leak,  easily  made  up 
for  by  the  ship's  pressurization  system.  It  might 
have  been  a  big  air  leak,  leading  to  loss  of  cabin 
pressure.  What  did  happen  was  that  the  small 
crack,  once  formed,  instantfy  grew  into  a  rip 
many  feet  long  that  tore  the  whole  airplane  wide 
open.  At  500  mph,  the  rush  of  air  then  took  the 
airplane  apart. 

This  was  a  new  effect,  this  failure  "All  at 
Once,  and  Nothing  First."  It  had  not  been 
previously  encountered.  It  was  discovered  by 
the  British  in  their  remarkable  investigation  of 
the  Comet  disasters.  And  all  concerned  have 
thoroughly  learned  their  lesson. 

The  new  jet  liners  have  in  the  first  place  metal 
skins  70  per  cent  thicker  than  the  first  Comets 
had.  But  you  cannot  guarantee  an  airtight  cabin, 
any  more  than  a  watertight  ship.  The  real  ques- 
tion is— what  happens  if  there  is  a  leak?  That's 
why  ships  have  compartments.  The  jet  liner,  too, 
now  has  a  second  line  of  defense— called  "rip- 
stopping."  Suppose  you  tear  up  an  old  shirt:  to 
start  the  tear  takes  a  little  effort;  once  started,  it 
grows  easily  until  you  come  to  a  seam.  Trans- 
lated from  fabric  to  metal,  that's  "rip-stopping." 
The  skin  is  criss-crossed  (on  the  inside  of  the 
fuselage)  by  a  network  of  metal  strips,  one  every 
ten  inches  or  so.  Each  strip  acts  like  that  seam. 
If  a  crack  starts,  it  can  grow— but  only  to  the 
nearest  strip,  not  across  it.  It  doesn't  rip  the  air- 
plane apart.  It  just  makes  a  hole— a  mouth-like 
slit  with  pouting  lips,  formed  by  the  out-puffing 
air.    This  acts  as  safety  valve. 

That's  the  answer  to  the  Comet  question.  But 
there  is  still  something  else  on  people's  minds: 
these  ships  are  jets.  The  very  word  is  a  little 
scary.  What,  me  fly  in  a  jet?  Besides,  these  jet 
liners  are  close  relatives  to  the  jet  bombers;  and 
those,  as  anybody  in  the  Air  Force  will  tell  you, 
are  "hot"— hard  to  handle.  Their  accident  rate 
is  rumored  to  be  high.    Pilots  stand  in  awe  of 


them.  And  the  family  resemblance  between  them 
and  the  liners  is  obvious.  Look  at  the  wing.  Is 
there  a  difference? 

The  difference  lies  mostly  in  the  means  the 
pilot  has  for  getting  the  airplane  down  on  the 
runway  and  getting  it  stopped.  You  need  here  a 
three-cornered  comparison:  the  propeller  air- 
plane, the  jet  bomber,  the  jet  liner.  On  a  pro- 
peller airplane,  once  you  pull  the  throttles  back, 
the  propellers  exert  a  powerful  drag.  During 
the  approach  this  drag  lets  you  come  clown 
steeply,  it  you  want  to,  without  picking  up  too 
much  speed.  As  your  glide  flattens  out,  this  same 
drag  effect  keeps  you  from  floating  too  far  down 
the  runway.  After  touching  clown,  it  keeps  you 
from  rolling  too  far;  and,  in  addition,  you  can 
put  the  propellers  in  reverse  and  make  them 
push  backwards,  helping  the  wheel-brakes  to  stop 
the  airplane. 

On  the  jet  bombers,  none  of  this  is  available. 
The  jet  engine  has  a  slight  forward  pull  even 
when  idling.  So  the  jet  bomber  coming  down  to- 
ward the  runway  is  "slippery,"  like  a  "free-wheel- 
ing" car— with  no  brakes.  If  the  pilot  noses  down 
the  least  bit  too  much,  he  picks  up  excess  speed; 
if  he  has  the  least  bit  of  excess  speed,  he  "floats" 
down  the  runway  too  far.  Even  once  the  airplane 
is  rolling  on  the  runway,  its  weight  is  still  largely 
borne  by  its  wings,  and  wheel  brakes  therefore 
have  little  effect. 

So  jet  bombers  have  had  many  over-shooting 
accidents,  the  airplane  rolling  past  the  end  of 
the  runway  into  the  rough.  At  the  same  time, 
they  have  had  many  under-shooting  accidents, 
and  essentially  for  the  same  reason.  In  order  not 
to  over-shoot,  the  pilot  had  to  make  his  approach 
so  very  low  and  slow  there  was  little  margin  for 
error:  the  least  bit  slower  and  he  sank  to  the 
ground  short  of  the  runway.  This  happened  all 
the  easier,  because,  in  a  jet  airplane  with  swept- 
back  wings,  once  you've  slowed  up  beyond  a 
certain  point,  you  sink— and  engine  power  alone 
will  not  pick  the  airplane  up  again:  you  have  to 
put  the  nose  clown  and  sacrifice  altitude  to  get 
new  speed;  and  the  altitude  may  not  be  available. 

All  this  goes  more  or  less  for  jet  fighters,  too, 
and  is  the  main  reason  why  military  jets  are 
held  in  awe.  The  jet  liner  has  some  definite 
answers  to  this.  They  give  the  pilot  about  the 
same  degree  of  control  he  has  on  the  big  pro- 
peller airplane. 

First,  the  jet  passenger  plane  has  a  "spoiler'  — 
a  sort  of  shield  that  the  pilot  can  make  pop  up 
above  each  wing.  This  "spoils"  the  lift  of  the 
wing  and  increases  the  drag.  By  using  it,  the 
pilot  can  get  rid  of  excess  altitude  without  pick- 


56 


THE     NEW     JET     AIR     LINERS 


ing  up  excess  speed— the  main  problem  on  the 
landing  approa<  h. 

Second,  the  same  control,  used  after  touching 
down,  puts  the  airplane's  weight  solidly  on  its 
wheels.  This  shortens  the  landing  run  by  mak- 
ing the  wheel  brakes  much  more  effective. 

Third,  the  brakes  themselves  are  marvels:  il 
braking  makes  the  wheels  skid,  the  brake  feels 
that,  lets  go  lor  a  moment,  and  grabs  hold  again 
the  instant  the  skid  has  stopped. 

Fourth,  the  jet  linei  has  "thrust  reversers"  to 
lake  over  the  job  of  the  reversible  propeller. 
Behind  each  engine,  folded  awa)  during  Bight, 
rides  a  clam-shell-shaped  scoop  \lier  landing, 
i his  chops  into  place,  catches  the  jet  blast,  and 
bends  it  around  so  that  it  blows  Eorward,  thereby 
holding  the  airplane  back.  All  this  reduces  the 
risk  ol  over-shooting— and  therefore,  l>\  the  same 
flip  of  logic  as  before,  also  the  tisk  ol  under- 
shooting—to a  reasonable  level. 

THE     REAL     GAMBLE     IN     JETS 

Til  I  real  adventure  will  not  be  in  the  <  o<  k- 
pit  but  in  the  business  office.  \  jet  liner 
is  a  ferocious  thing  to  have  l>\  the  tail.  just  to 
own  one  costs  the  company  about  $100  an  hour, 
twenty  four  hours  a  day.  That's  lor  interest  and 
depreciation,  etc.,  and  it  pours  out  whether  the 
airplane  is  flown  or  not.  Therefore,  you  had 
better  fly  it.  That  will  cost  you  about  $600  an 
hour  lor  fuel,  crew,  and  maintenance.  Therefore, 
you  had  better  (l\   it  with  a  payload. 

That's  the  big  gamble  in  the  jet  program: 
payload.  There  are  some  lour  hundred  Ameri- 
can jet  liners  now  on  order  by  the  world's  air 
lines,  plus  quite  a  fleet  of  French  and  British 
ones,  plus  a  big  crop  of  turbine-propeller  ships 
coming  up— all  of  them  ships  of  fantastic  produc- 
tivity. The  mount  of  "seat-miles"  this  fleet  will 
oiler  is  staggering.  Meanwhile,  the  "old''  pro- 
peller fleet— Constellations,  DC-Sixes  and  DC- 
Sevens,  are  bound  to  stay  in  service  somehow, 
somewhere.  Who  is  to  ride  in  all  those  airplanes? 
The  answer  is  that  the  jets  will  create  their 
own  customers.  Trips  will  be  made  at  550  mph 
that  would  not  have  been  made  at  225  mph. 
That  has  always  seemed  incredible,  and  it  has 
always  proved  true:  faster  transport  makes  peo- 
ple travel.  There  was  a  time  when  it  was  seri- 
'uish  argued  that  there  was  no  sense  in  building 
a  railroad  between  New  York  and  Philadelphia- 
total  travel  between  the  two  cities  didn't  quite 
fill  two  mail  coaches.  The  railroads  created  their 
own  customers,  the  automobile  did  the  same, 
and   air   transport   has   already   done   so   on    the 


Atlantic:  the  ships  are  as  lull  as  ever,  but  the 
air  lines  now  c.ui\  more  people  .moss  the  At- 
lantic! than  the  ships  do.  Total  transatlantic 
travel  has  tripled  since  the  war.  The  price  of 
the  c  tossing  has  not  substantially  changed,  con- 
sidering  Inflation.  The  increase  in  travel  must 
ii  lie  c  i   the  c  ut   in   travel  time. 

And  now  the  jets  come  and  offer  practically 
no  time -loss  travel  between  Europe  and  America. 
The\  eic. iic  a  strange  new  wot  Id  where  you  can 
reach  mid  Manhattan  more  quieklv  Irom  Ber- 
muda oi  San  Juan  than  Irom  the  luilheiout 
commuters'  towns  in  Connecticut.  People  will 
respond  to  this,  and  ,1  vast  increase  in  touring 
is  only  the  least  ol  the  effects  it  will  have.  Busi 
ncss  travel  will  increase  even  more.  Till  now, 
the  wot  Id's  most  dynamic  economy  has  been 
paith  insulated  by  the  cost  ol  travel  time.  Now 
Europe  and  Latin  America  will  come  into  no- 
time-loss  proximit)  -executives  and  experts  can 
get  then  .end  still  elei  a  day's  work.  So  wh\  not 
a  laboratory  in  Germany,  a  pharmaceutical  plan) 
in  the  Argentine;  win  not  do  your  development 
work  in  Holland? 

And  vice  versa:  greal  possibilities  open  up  in 
combining  the  know-how  of  one  country  with 
the  capital  ol  another  and  the  workmanship  ol 
a  third.  Most  of  these  can't  be  thought  up  be- 
forehand, hut  the)  will  be  thought  up.  Invention 
is  often  the  mother  ol  nee  essiiv:  once  a  thing  can 
be  done,  someone  will  do  it,  and  competition 
then  lore  es  the   test. 

So  the  increase  in  travel  will  come.  It  always 
has.  The  question  is:  will  it  come  last  enough  to 
lill   the  new    ships  .is   thev    come  out? 

In  this  gamble,  some  of  the  risk  is  under- 
written bv  the  governments.  In  the  United 
States,  air  lines  that  can't  be  made  to  pay  arc 
subsidized-;  that's  a  policy  of  thirty  years'  stand- 
ing. Most  foreign  air  lines  are  government-owned 
and  their  losses  are  borne  by  the  taxpayer.  The 
air  lines  ol  this  country  have  come  out  Irom 
under  subsidy  in  recent  years— all  but  a  few 
special  routes— and  .ire  proud  of  it.  The  jet  line  i 
could  force  some  of  them  back  undei  subsidy. 
while  waiting  lot  people's  travel  habits  to  catch 
up. 

Even  if  that  happens,  the  jet  fleet  will  be 
worth  having.  In  war  or  peace,  it  will  add  much 
to  the  free  world's  strength.  In  case  of  war,  the 
airlift  capacity  of  this  fleet  is  massive;  and  it 
comes  just  as  the  new  atomic-powered  submarine 
makes  sea  transport  questionable. 

In  peace,  the  jet  fleet  will  add  even  more  to 
our  strength.  For  fast  transport  is  one  of  the 
vitamins  on  which  our  world  thrives. 


Harper's  Magazine,  Jane  1953 


,w?#ihp)tfft 


By   WILLIAM   H.   ADOLPH 

Draivings  by  Karla  Kuskin 


FASHIONS  IN  FOOD 


Random  Notes  by  an 
Historian  of  the  Fickle  Palate 

FO  R  the  moment  at  least,  cannibalism  is 
out  of  fashion.  There  is  considerable  evi- 
dence, however,  that  in  early  eras  and  in  many 
lands  it  was  a  highly  regarded  custom.  It  may 
have  had  something  to  do  with  local  protein 
shortages,  and  it  was  certainly  closely  connected 
with  primitive  religions  and  superstitions.  But 
it  also,  apparently,  had  another  justification.  As 
one  Polynesian  chief,  who  was  a  connoisseur, 
declared,  "the  white  man  well  roasted  tastes  like 
a  ripe  banana." 

Today  the  notion  is  repugnant  to  nearly  every- 
body. Yet  all  that  modern  science  has  to  say  on 
the  subject  is  that  human  flesh  should  not  cause 
an  allergy  in  man.  It  might  also  be  noted  that 
our  eating  habits  and  fancies  in  food  have  gone 
through  as  many  changes  as  our  fashions  in 
clothes.  Food  choices  have  sometimes  ruled  men's 
lives  and  changed  the  course  of  history. 

Spices  were  powerful  weapons  in  the  hands 
of  the  early  cooks;  in  the  days  before  efficient 
refrigeration  they  were  necessary  ingredients, 
both  to  counteract  spoilage  and  to  disguise  the 
off-flavors  of  putrid  meat.  The  meat  of  wild 
game  which  had  become  "high,"  for  example, 
was  treated  by  that  culinary  artist,  Apicius,  with 
a  mixture  of  pepper,  lovage,  thyme,  mint,  sage, 
honey,  vinegar,  wine,  must,  and  mustard.  And 
apparently  such  persisting  food  customs  as 
serving  mint  sauce  with  mutton  and  lemon  with 
fish  originated  in  the  same  way— as  cover  flavors 
characteristic  of  an   age  when   unsanitary   prac* 


tices  were  rampant  and  perfumes  were  used  to 
conceal  unfortunate  odors. 

During  the  Middle  Ages  the  great  demand  for 
spices  stimulated  the  trade  routes  to  the  East 
Indies  and  led,  inadvertently,  to  the  discovery 
of  the  new  world.  The  spice  trade  was  extremely 
profitable.  The  Young  Cook's  Monitor  of  1683 
gives  a  recipe  for  cod's  head  in  which  the  cod 
cost  fourpence  and  the  condiments  nine  shillings. 

Pepper  was  one  of  the  earliest  spices  used  in 
Europe.  Alaric  the  Visigoth,  we  are  told,  de- 
manded three  thousand  pounds  of  pepper  as 
part  of  Rome's  ransom.  And  the  spice  still  keeps 
some  of  its  earlier  importance.  During  World 
War  II,  L.  B.  Jensen  points  out,  coffee  was  not 
listed  as  a  strategic  war  material,  but  pepper  was 
—a  holdover,  he  suggests,  from  the  Middle  Ages. 

At  a  very  early  period— perhaps  shortly  after 
primitive  man  learned  to  cook  his  food  and 
discovered  that  infinite  variations  in  prepara- 
tion were  possible— the  custom  was  established 
that  at  a  least  there  should  be  plenty  to  eat.  As 
a  result,  a  superabundance  of  food  became  the 
fashion  and  overeating— to  show  one's  apprecia- 
tion of  the  delicacies— a  social  convention.  The 
Romans,  of  course,  solved  the  problem  by  their 
famous  custom  of  tickling  the  throat  with  a 
leather  during  a  long  banquet,  so  that  they 
could  relieve  themselves  of  what  they  had  al- 
ready eaten  and  start  again.  Some  centuries  later 
in  England  the  ability  to  gorge  oneself  gracefully 
became  a  social  accomplishment.  The  Duke 
of  Norfolk  when  dining,  it  is  reported,  never 
showed  signs  of  fatigue,  but  at  midnight  he 
would  suddenly  fall  asleep.  This  was  the  signal 
lor  his  four  footmen  to  produce  a  stretcher  and 
remove  his  huge  bulk  from  the  table. 

Life  in  medieval  Europe  was  rugged,  and  the 


58 


I    V  S  II  I  ()  N  S      IN      TOO  I) 


winters,  without  electricit)    oi    heat,   were-  hard 

.ind  dull.  Ii  is  small  wonder  then  that  cooking 
and  eating  were  ol  tnajoi  importance.  An  activi 
outdoor  life  stimulated  the  appetite,  and  people 
did  not  shrink  from  mountainous  heaps  ol  Eood. 
At  a  dinnei  foi  6,000  in  I  l(>7  the  Archbishop 
ol  York  served  300  quarters  <>l  wheat.  105  oxen, 
(i  bulls,  l.ooo  sheep,  304  calves,  304  hogs,  500 
hiuks  and  does,  2,000  geese,  1,000  capons,  100 
peacocks,  and  Hill  swans.  One  ol  Henry  VIII's 
dinners  started  at  five  in  tin-  afternoon  and 
lasted  until  three  the  nexl  morning,  at  which 
time,  the  chronicle  states,  "all  estates  found  it 
convenienl  to  withdraw  to  their  test." 

Anion"  the  wealth)  in  those  days,  gluttony 
was  so  leal  the  Church  listed  it  as  one  ol  the 
Seven  Deadl)  sins,  and  in  both  England  and 
Scotland  laws  weie  set  up  lo  c  liec  k  extravagance 
at   the  dinnei    table.    An  earl)   Statute  rules  that: 

Xo  man  shall  be  served  at  dinnei  oi  supper 
with  more  than  two  (oiuses.  excepl  upon  cer- 
tain holidays  when  three  courses  are  allowed. 

But  the  definition  ol  glutton)  was  somewhat 

elastic;  even  the  Church  had  no  special  revela- 
tion as  to  how  much   was  enough. 

It  was  not  apparentl)  until  Queen  Elizabeth's 
day  that  overeating  was  recognized  as  a  danger 
and  Thomas  Cogan  wrote:  "Use  a  measure  in 
eating  that  thou  maist  live  long."  The  danger 
is  still  witli  ns;  in  this  country  over-nutrition 
is  one  ol  the  devastating  diseases  of  oui   time. 


The  Romans  solved   the  problem. 

THE  first  great  revolution  in  eating  came 
when  primitive  man  turned  from  hunting 
to  agriculture  and  began  to  supplement  his  meat 
diet  with  vegetables  and  vegetable  products.  The 
development  ol  bread  was  his  supreme  triumph, 
and  ever  since  bread  has  been  a  caste  symbol. 

Society  soon  discovered  a  difference  between 
white  bread  and  brown  and  decided  in  favor  ol 
the  former.  In  the  Old  Testament  there  are 
references  to  temple  offerings  ol  "fine  Hour"— 
that  is,  white  flour— which  was  a  mark  of  respect 
when  offered  to  a  guest  or  before  the  altar.  In 
Rome,  white  bread  was  always  placed  on  the 
tables  of   the  elite. 

With   this  craving  lor  white  bread,  the  baker 


and  the  nullei  became  adept  in  certain  manipu- 
lations. I  he  \  found  the)  could  increase  the 
whiteness  b)  adding  hone  meal,  chalk,  and  linie; 
and  the)  were  Often  accused  ol  stealing  soiiie 
ol  the  grain  the)  milled.  Pharoah's  chiel  bakei 
in  the  honk  ol  (.cue  sis  was  imprisoned,  it  would 
appear,  lor  supplying  bread  containing  grit  from 
the  gi  indstone. 

Centuries  later,  in  Chaucer's  "Canterbury 
I  ales "  the  miller  is  (as  R.  A.  McCance  and  E.  M. 
Widdowsbn  observe)  a  dishonest  man,  for 

\\  1 1  koeiili   he  stelen  corn,  and  tollen  thrics, 

and 

A  theef  he  wis  For  sothe  of  corn  and  mele 
And  that  a  sly  and   usaunt  for  to  stele. 

In  all  wheat-consuming  countries  it  rapidly 
became  an  aristocratic  privilege  to  grumble  over 
the  quality  ol  the  bread,  and  at  a  very  early 
period  governments  enacted  laws  to  regulate  the 
composition.  Punishment  under  these  laws  was 
extreme.  In  the  Neai  last,  it  is  reported,  a 
dishonest  baker  was  nailed  by  the  ear  to  the 
dooi  ol  his  shop.  There  is  also  the  story  of 
bakers  who  raised  their  prices  and  were  sen- 
tenced to  be  baked  in  their  own  ovens.  In 
England,  we  are  told,  bakers  were  the  only  mem- 
bers of  the  community  permitted  to  keep  pigs 
in  their  homes.  The  pigs  thrived  on  bran,  and 
thus  removed  some  of  the  temptation  to  add 
too  much  bran   to  the  flour. 

All  over  the  world,  white  bread  is  a  badge  of 
social  distinction,  since  it  is,  presumably,  made 
from  first-quality  (lour.  Second-grade  flour  pro- 
duces gray  or  brownish  bread,  and  the  black 
bread  of  peasant  Europe  is  the  result  of  adding 
beans  or  acorns.  (Today  such  added  materials 
are  euphemistically  known  as  "extenders,"  but 
until  recent  years  they  were  frankly  called 
"adulterants.")  However,  about  a  century  ago, 
there  was  a  movement  in  favor  of  brown  bread. 
It  was  shown  that  in  the  refining  process  flour 
lost  important  nutrients,  and  such  men  as  Gra- 
ham in  this  country— the  originator  of  graham 
bread— became  ardent  and  vigorous  exponents  ol 
the  brown  loaf.  In  England,  royalty,  anxious  to 
set  a  good  example,  it  is  reported,  ate  brown 
bread.  At  present  an  armistice  has  been  reached; 
it  has  been  found  that  by  proper  treatment  the 
nutrients  lacking  in  white  flour  can  be  restored, 
and  white  bread  has  kept  its  rank  in  society. 
In  fact,  when  the  Communists  came  into  power 
in  China,  a  few  years  ago,  they  looked  with  sus- 
picion upon  the  users  of  white  bread  and,  to 
gain  popular  favor,  chose  one  of  the  less  aris- 


BY     WILLIAM     H.     ADOLPH 


59 


tocratic  grains,  millet,  and  proclaimed  it  the 
symbol  of  the  revolution. 

Until  the  time  of  the  Renaissance,  fruits  and 
green  vegetables  had  only  an  irregular  status  in 
European  diets.  The  Romans  used  cabbage, 
asparagus,  and  greens,  but  in  sparing  amounts 
and  largely  as  decorative  flavoring.  The  Moors 
cultivated  green  vegetables  in  Spain,  and  one  of 
these,  olus  Hispaniense,  according  to  E.  Parmalee 
Prentice,  became  known  as  "hispanich"  or 
spinach. 

During  the  Renaissance  these  vegetables 
spread  to  Holland  and  England,  and  resulted 
in  great  improvements  in  the  diet.  At  the  same 
time  other  new  foods  were  pouring  into  Europe 
from  the  new  world— corn,  potatoes,  peanuts, 
sweet  potatoes,  bananas,  rice.  The  potato  in 
particular  was  received  with  wild  enthusiasm. 
John  Foster  published  his  pamphlet,  England's 
Happiness  Increased  by  a  Plantation  of  Pota- 
toes, and  Falstaff  in  "The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor"  cries,  "Let  the  sky  rain  potatoes." 

The  early  books  on  food  and  health  regard 
fruit  with  some  suspicion  and  suggest  that  it 
be  eaten  sparingly.  One  chronicler  states  that 
fruits  "do  engender  ill  humors,  and  be  ofttimes 
the  cause  of  putrid  fevers."  When  one  realizes 
that  the  season  when  fruit  ripens  is  the  season 
when  infectious  diseases  abound,  the  source  of 
this  belief  is  not  hard  to  understand. 

It  is  only  within  recent  years  that  the  nu- 
tritive value  of  fruit  has  been  appreciated,  and 
in  many  parts  of  the  world  it  is  still  not  regarded 
as  an  orthodox  food.  One  of  my  colleagues  when 
I  was  in  Peking,  a  Western-trained  Chinese,  in- 
sisted that  his  family  eat  plenty  of  fruit.  But 
in  accordance  with  old  tradition  he  entered 
the  cost  in  his  expense  account  not  against  food 
but  against  medicines. 

EATING:     GRACE     OR     DISGRACE? 

TEA  and  coffee  came  to  England  a  little 
later  than  potatoes.  Pepys  writes  in  his 
diary:  "I  did  send  for  a  cup  of  tea,  a  China 
drink  of  which  I  never  had  drunk  before." 

The  first  coffee  house  opened  in  London  in 
the  mid-seventeenth  century,  and  scores  of  others 
followed  it  and  became  the  nucleus  for  great 
literary  and  intellectual  activity.  But  the  grow- 
ing fondness  for  tea— which  the  English  have 
kept  to  this  day— spelled  their  doom  in  time. 

At  first  green  tea,  prepared  as  a  weak  infusion 
in  the  Chinese  manner  and  served  without  milk, 
was  sold  in  the  coffee  houses.  Then  the  East 
India  trade,  supplemented  by  a  flourishing  smug- 


gling trade  with  France,  brought  the  price  of 
tea  within  the  reach  of  all,  and  it  was  enthusi- 
astically taken  up  by  all  classes. 

At  first  the  drinking  of  tea  was  regarded  as 
an  evil  and  injurious  habit.  "Your  very  cham- 
bermaids," declared  one  Jonas  Hanway,  "have 
lost  their  bloom,  I  suppose  by  sipping  tea." 
The  nutritionist  now  considers  tea  deleterious 
only  when  it  displaces  more  nourishing  food. 

In  the  Orient  tea  has  long  been  of  importance 
socially,  and  there  is  a  record  of  tea  drinking 
in  China  as  early  as  the  third  century  a.d.  Sip- 
ping tea  has,  in  fact,  come  to  represent  an 
attitude  of  mind  and  to  symbolize  leisurely 
living.  Certainly  the  introduction  of  tea  and 
coffee  in  Europe  influenced  the  time  for  meals. 
Tea  and  coffee  favored  social  entertainment  and 
led  to  the  tendency  to  dine  late,  which,  in  turn, 
led  to  late  rising  and  late  breakfasts. 


Sipping  tea  represents  an  attitude  of  mind. 

UTENSILS  for  eating  developed  grad- 
ually. The  drinking  cup  of  ceremonial 
imjaortance  and  spoons  of  a  sort  were  in  use  at 
a  fairly  early  period.  The  Chinese  had  chop- 
sticks before  the  Christian  era,  but  the  fork,  a 
less  flexible  equivalent,  first  reported  in  Italy, 
did  not  appear  in  England  until  three  or  four 
centuries  ago.  (When  forks  were  first  introduced 
to  England,  they  were  disapproved  of  by  the 
clergy  who  considered  it  a  haughty  insult  to 
Providence  to  avoid  touching  with  the  fingers 
the  meat  and  food  ordained  for  man's  welfare.) 
Queen  Elizabeth  I  ate  with  her  fingers,  but 
this  practice  was  ruled  by  strict  etiquette.  Ac- 
cording to  Stuckius,  food  "should  be  taken  with 
three  fingers,"  and  "to  lick  your  greasy  fingers 
or  wipe  them  on  your  coat  is  not  good  manners." 
The  towel  and  the  wash  basin  were  important 
items.  In  Roman  times  each  guest  came  to  the 
feast  bringing  his  own  towel.  The  napkin  came 
into  use  only  two  or  three  centuries  ago,  but 
rapidly  became  part  of  the  dinner-table  ritual. 
Giles  Rose,  Charles  IPs  favorite  cook,  gives  in- 
structions for  folding  the  dinner  napkin  in  his 
Perfect  School  of  Instructions  for  Office  of  the 
Mouth. 

The  individual  dinner  plate  was  preceded  by 
the    "trencher"— a    slice    of    bread    which,    after 


(.(» 


FASHIONS     IN     FOOD 


being  saturated  with  juice  from  the  men  laid 
upon  it,  was  eaten  (perhaps  the  prototype  for 
today's  hamburgi 

Animal  foods  have  always  occasioned  powerful 
prejudices.  I  o  some  people,  roast  dog  is  .1  (  hoice 
food;  others  regard  dogs  and  iais  as  repulsive. 
Frogs'  legs  are  a  delicacy  in  sonn  areas,  a  horror 
in  others.  Snakes  are  outcasts,  but  eels  are 
generally  accepted.  Deer  meal  is  in  good  stand- 
ing,  l)llt    hors<    meal    is   not. 


To  some  people,  roast  dog  is  a  choice  food. 

Our  ancestors  did  not  always  place  Fish  and 
meal  in  the  same  category.  Fish  by  order  of 
the  Church  replaced  meat  on  Fridays  and  last 
days.  In  the  sixteenth  century  the  English  gov- 
ernment, realizing  that  a  hatch  race  <>l  fishei 
nun  and  sailors  was  needed  for  the  navy  and 
the  ship-building  industry,  proposed  two  fish 
days  .1  week— both  to  provide  more  seafaring  men 
and  also  to  bring  down  the  price  of  meat.  Ap- 
parently the  plan  proved  to  he  difficult  to 
enforce,   and   was   dropped. 

Two  centuries  later,  fish  were  responsible 
for  George  Ill's  partially  successful  program  of 
turnpike  improvement.  Fish  spoil  easily,  and 
their  evil  odor  when  putrid  was  suspected  lo 
be  one  of  the  causes  of  the  plague.  Roads  were 
poor,  so  the  transport  of  fish  to  market  was 
regrettably  slow.  It  was  largely  to  get  the  fish 
to  their  destination  mote  rapidly  that  the  roads 
began  to  be  improved. 

The  Anglo  Saxon  prejudice  against  eating  in- 
sects is  curiously,  strong.  'Set  locusts,  cater- 
pillars, and  termites  have  often  been  used  as 
food.  The  Romans  regarded  larvae  as  a  Inst 
class  delicacy;  and  in  the  Middle  East  locusts 
hied  in  oil  or  roasted  are  greatly  relished. 
(The  \  aie  said  to  taste  like  chicken.)  Insects 
are,  actually,  a  high-quality  proiein  food,  and 
periodic  attempts  have  been  made  to  introduce 
them   into  our  diet. 

About  seventy-five  years  ago  a  small  book 
entitled  Why  Not  Eat  Insects?  was  published  in 
England.  This  pointed  out  thai  in  Other  conn 
tries  insect  dishes  were  both  fashionable  and 
nutritions.  Then,  dining  World  War  I,  when 
lood  shortages  were  threatening,  the  well-known 
American  entomologist,  L.  O.  Howard,  prepared 


.1  "white  grub  stew"  which  his  laboratory  guests 
reported  was  quite  appetizing.  In  another  recipe, 
he  used  French  dressing  and  served  the  ginhs 
as  .1  salad.  Dining  World  War  II,  laboratory 
studies  in  the  Fai  Easl  showed  thai  silkworm 
pupae  were  a  satisfactory  substitute  Im  meat. 
Hans   Zinsser,    the   epidemiologist,   discussing 

rats  and  t  he.  i  1  pail  in  spreading  plague,  ob- 
served  thai  the  b,fisl  way  to  eradicate  plague 
would  be  to  make  rats  a  table  delicacy.  This 
suggests  that  10  conquer  our  present  greatest 
enemy,  the  insect  world  we  must  set  tip  an 
effective  alliance  between  the  dietitian  and  the 
entomologist. 

Milk  has  been  the  subject  ol  curious  supersti 
tions.  The  ancients  believed  that  il  a  child 
were  given  milk  from  a  certain  animal,  it 
would  grow  up  to  have  the  characteristics  ol 
that  animal.  Romulus,  nursed  by  a  wolf,  be- 
came a  cruel  man.  A  certain  monk  who  lived 
on  doe's  milk  developed  a  meek  and  lowly  dis- 
position and  became  a  saint.  In  choosing  a  wet 
nurse  it  was  therefore  considered  important  to 
stud)  the  character  ol  the  applicants— to  avoid 
a  woman  who  was  a  drunkard  or  who  showed 
Othei    had   habits. 

Many  peoples  find  the  taste  ol  milk  disagree- 
able; to  disguise  the  flavor  honey  and  salt  were 
sometimes  added.  And,  ol  course,  cheese  has 
been  widely  used  throughout  the  world.  B. 
Eanler  calls  attention  to  a  curious  coincidence: 
no  non-milk  consuming  people  has  ever  pro- 
duced great   epic    poetry. 

In  recent  years  milk  has  been  proclaimed 
the  most  pet  lee  1  lood  and  raised  from  a  posi- 
tion ol  uncertainty  to  a  place  among  the  elite, 
finl  today  there  is  occasional  uneasiness  about 
the  high  milk  consumption  in  this  country  and 
a  faint  suggestion  that  perhaps  there  can  be 
loo  much  ol   even  a   "perfect"  food. 


No    )ion-in ill;    consuming    people    has   ever 
prod in ijil  great   epit    poetry. 


BY     WILLIAM     H.     ADOLPH 


61 


Difficulties   in   keeping  raw  milk   clean   were 
discovered   early.    There   is   an   unverified   story 
that    the    ancient    Sumerians,    who    sat    behind 
their  cows   to  milk   them,   believed   that  if   the 
gods  had  wanted  man  to  have  clean  milk  they 
would  have  placed  the  udder  on  the 
forward  part  of  the  cow.   Galen  recom- 
mended that  the  milk  ass  be  brought 
into  the  sick  room  and  milked  there, 
and  later  advice  urged  that  an  infant 
nurse  from  the  animal's  udder. 

Probably  because  of  the  difficulty  of  keeping 
milk  fresh,  a  frozen  cream  was  early  used  by 
the  Swiss.  In  the  sixteenth  century  the  French 
and  Italians  improved  upon  this  by  sweeten- 
ing it  with  honey  or  sugar.  This  reci}^  was 
brought  to  America,  and  in  1777  an  enterprising 
confectioner  in  New  York  City  announced  the 
sale  of  what  he  called  "ice  cream,"  which  could 
be  had  "almost  every  day." 

Our  forebears  believed  that  human  character 
and  disposition  were  directly  related  to  food. 
So  they  ate  the  flesh  of  the  most  savage  wild 
animals  and  feasted  on  their  defeated  enemies 
to  increase  their  vigor  and  prowess.  Even  today 
the  he-man  is  supposed  to  look  with  contempt 
upon  vegetarians. 

There  have  also  been  more  or  less  scientific 
conjectures  about  the  relation  of  diet  to  racial 
traits.  A  few  decades  ago  a  prominent  bio- 
chemist divided  the  nations  of  the  world  into 
the  meat-eating  or  warlike  peoples,  and  the 
vegetarians  or  peace-loving.  The  meat-eaters  of 
Europe  he  listed  among  the  warlike;  the  vege- 
tarians  of   the   Orient   among   the   peace-lovers. 

H.  G.  Wells  in  his  autobiography  refers  to 
his  older  sister  as  a  "bright,  precocious,  and 
fragile  little  girl  with  a  facility  for  prim  pietv" 
and  suggests  that  such  goodness  was  possibly 
the   evidence   of  a   dietary   deficiency. 

In  a  recent  psychological  study  a  large  group 


of  high-school  and  college  students 
were  asked  to  state  their  food  preju- 
dices. Buttermilk,  brains,  kidneys, 
and  cottage  cheese  ranked  first 
among  the  list  of  unpopulars.  But, 
curiously,  those  who  were  regular 
church  attendants  showed  less  aver- 
sion to  these  foods  than  non- 
attenders. 

Some  years  ago,  when  goiter  was 
the  center  of  nutritional  interest, 
it  was  noted  that  students  with 
hyperthyroidism,  an  iodine  de- 
ficiency disease,  often  had  high 
scholastic  records.  An  observer, 
pointing  out  that  this  included 
many  Phi  Beta  Kappas,  asked:  Does 

this  mean  that  membership  in  Phi 
A  symptom?  Beta  Kappa  may  itsdf  be  a  symp. 

torn  of  the  disease? 

Food  fads  are  by  no  means  a  thing  of  the 
past.  Mankind  continues  to  be  lamentably  fickle 
in  its  food  tastes.  The  first  years  of  the  present 
century,  for  example,  found  us  listening  to  the 
claims  of  Fletcherism,  the  chewing  fad.  It  was 
an  ugly  habit,  but  there  were  many  converts. 
Soon  after  we  were  urged  to  eat  roughage,  and 
we  dutifully  consumed  tons  and  tons  of  bran 
and  other  materials  of  a  sawdust-like  consist- 
ency. Then  came  the  raw  food  fad;  then,  the 
Hay  diet— all  within  the  span  of  a  single 
generation. 

Fashions  in  food  change,  but  it  is  humiliating 
to  realize  that  there  is  really  very  little  that 
is  new.  Food  fads  tend  to  operate  in  cycles, 
and  while  today's  may  disappear  in  a  few  years, 
they  will  almost  surely  reappear  later.  Spinach 
had  its  day  and  now  seems  on  the  wane.  But 
never  fear,  it  will  come  back  again.  I  believe 
Ave  would  be  sorely  disappointed  if  it— and  other 
food  fashions— did  not. 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  GRAY  FLANNEL  KIMONO 


Packed  in  Japan 
With   Diligence 
and  Responsibility 

Serve  cold  or  not 
with  lemon  perhaps 


It  is  assuredly  advised 
that  all  who  delight 
with  their  cocktails  will 
happily  engage   in  serving 
this  most  sincere  brand 


-Legend  on  can  of  Fancy  Whole  Smoked  Oysters,  Safari-San  Brand 


Harper's  Magazine.  June  1958 


By   D.   W.   BROGAN 

Drawings   by   Frederick   E.   Ban  berry 


AUSTRALIA: 


The  Innocent  Continent: 


Down  Under  is  a  land  of  ambiguous  promise, 

expanding;  industry,  and  easy-does-it  democracy 

where  men  settle  for  the  pleasures  they  have 

and  women  are  indifferent   to  fashion. 


WITHIN  ;t  few  years  we  have  witnessed 
the  phenomenon  ol  a  southeastward  mi- 
gration, in  the  settlement  of  Australia;  but  this 
affects  us  as  a  retrograde  movement,  and  judging 
from  the  moral  and  physical  character  of  the 
first  Australians,  has  not  yet  proved  a  successful 
experiment." 

Thus  wrote  Henry  David  Thoreau  a  hundred 
years  ago,  and  thus  would  e<  lio  a  vast  number  of 
people  today.  For  it  would  be  uncandid  to  deny 
that  curiosity  about  Australia  is  not  one  of  the 
most  spontaneous  of  emotions;  that  using  Aus- 
tralia for  an  exemplar  is  even  rarer  today  than 
it  was  a  generation  ago;  and  that  many  people 
are  disposed  to  think  of  the  continent  solely  in 
terms  of  tennis  players,  cricketers,  and  soldiers. 
It  they  think  of  it  as  a  society,  they  are  apt 
to  dismiss  it  as  an  inferior  America,  bound 
the  same  wa\  from  a  bad  start,  with  Convict 
Fathers  instead  of  Pilgrim  Fathers;  a  land  with 
a  remoteness  from  the  world's  problems  that 
the  American  Middle  West  no  longer  knows, 
with  a  lile  ol  no  great  interest  to  the  rest 
ol  humanity,  and  a  population  as  much  as  the 
Ancient    Britons,    "penitus    into    divisos    orbe," 


cut  oil  nearly  completely  from  the  business  of 
the  world. 

Such  judgments  are  natural.  Until  I  had 
spent  live  weeks  in  Australia  in  the  summer  of 
1!)j7  (winter  lor  the  Australians  of  course),  I 
shared  most  ol  (hem.  II  I  have  changed  these 
ideas  lor  others,  equally  clear,  simple,  and  dog- 
matic, it  may  be  due  to  the  fact  that  I  stayed 
only  five  weeks— which  was  perhaps  too  long 
for  real  clarity  ol  view.  For  I  now  think  Aus- 
tralia is  a  country  of  the  greatest  fascination 
and  most  interesting,  il  ambiguous,  promise;  a 
country  unlike  any  other  I  have  ever  known, 
and,  above  all,  unlike— how  unlike— the  United 
States,  with  which  so  many  Australians  so  often 
and  so  foolishly  compare   themselves. 

Physically  Australia  is  far  more  like  North 
Africa  than  either  Furope  or  America,  with  its 
strange  flora  and  fauna,  its  odd  marsupials  and 
weird  plants,  .particularly  that  omnipresent  em- 
blem oi  the  Australian  world— the  gum  tree.  I 
was  told  that  I  would  come  to  admire  the  strange, 
peeling,  solitary  gum  tree,  the  biggest  of  the 
"eucalypts,"  standing  in  the  great  empty  land. 
And  I  did  come  to  feel  that  way,  to  under- 
stand why  Australians  abroad  always  miss  that 
vision,  and  to  view  with  astonishment,  and  al- 
most with  resentment,  the  crowded,  magnificent, 
exiled  eucalyptus  trees  of  northern  California, 
so  unlike  those  I  had  seen  a  lew  days  before 
on  the  bleak  pastures  of  "New  Fngland"— a  New 
England  with  no  suggestion  of  the  cozy,  crowded, 
long-settled,    comfortable    New    England   of   the 


BY     D.     W.     BROGAN 


63 


United  States.  Even  Maine  gives  an  impression 
of  being  tamed  that  is  missing  in  Australia,  for 
this  very  old  continent  is  new  to  man,  not  only 
to  the  white  man  but  to  Homo  sapiens.  It  is 
only  a  few  thousand  years  since  the  ancestors 
of  the  Aborigines,  "the  Abos,"  began  to  drift 
into  the  empty  continent  with  their  dogs,  the 
ancestors  of  the  dingoes;  and  man  still  seems 
a  newcomer,  not  permanently  accepted  in  this 
empty,  austere  world.  Kangaroos,  wallabies, 
black  swans  are  all  at  home  on  the  ancient, 
thin  soil  between  the  prehistoric  eroded  rocks— 
but  man?   Well,  we  don't  know  yet. 

Of  course,  the  white  man  has  been  in  Australia 
for  one  hundred  and  fifty  years.  Fewer  Aus- 
tralians than  Americans  have  recent  immigrant 
ancestry,  though  that  is  changing  fast  now.  But 
the  works  of  man's  hands  are  lost  in  the  great 
emptiness.  And  the  most  impressive  of  them, 
like  the  great  water  pipeline  that  Charles  O'Con- 
nor drove  from  near  Perth  to  the  gold  fields, 
sixty  years  ago,  are  tributes  to  the  inhospitality 
of  the  land. 

The  Australians  have  one  American  attribute: 
they  are  ready  to  discount  the  future;  and  one 
form  this  takes  is  asking  the  visitor,  "Why 
shouldn't  we  grow  like  the  United  States?"  The 
answer  is  simple:  Is  there  a  great  desert  in 
the  American  Middle  West?  The  standard  maps 
are  deceptive;  they  show  "lakes"  like  Lake  On- 
tario or  Lake  Erie,  if  not  like  Lake  Superior. 
But  these  lakes,  like  the  biggest,  Lake  Eyre, 
differ  from  Lake  Erie  in  one  important  respect: 
they  have  no  water  in  them.  Flash  floods  may 
fill  some  of  them  for  a  few  hours  or  days  or 
weeks.  By  a  stroke  of  Providence,  Lake  Eyre 
was  filled  seven-feet  deep  in  1952.  No  man  liv- 
ing had  seen  that  sight;  there  is  no  native  tra- 
dition of  its  ever  having  occurred  before.  It 
took  two  years  for  the  water  to  evaporate,  but 
it  finally  did,  and  "boundless  and  bare  the  lone 
and  level  sands  stretch  far  away." 

THE    LAND    AND    THE    LEGEND 

MO  S  T  of  Australia  is  desert,  real  desert, 
not  what  passes  for  such  in  Arizona  or 
even  Nevada,  but  desert  like  the  Sahara.  The 
interstate  railway  that  runs  from  Perth  in  West- 
ern Australia  to  Adelaide  in  South  Australia 
has  the  longest  absolutely  straight  stretch  of 
line  in  the  world.  There  is  nothing  to  stop  it. 
Some  areas  are  intermittently  friendly  and  then 
lash  back  and  punish  the  human  intruder.  Aus- 
tralia is  full  of  ghost  towns— a  miserable  col- 
lection of  shacks  bearing  the  name  of  Metz  recalls 


only  ironically  the  noble  city  on  the  Moselle. 

But  more  impressive— and  depressing— than 
such  relics  of  the  mining  days  are  the  deserted, 
settlements  in  rural  areas  that,  for  a  brief  time, 
gave  lavish  crops,  then  stopped.  We  now  know 
why:  the  soil  was  exhausted,  and  today  "trace 
elements,"  molybdenum  and  the  -like,  can  be 
added  to  restore  the  good  temper  of  outraged 
nature.  Mediterranean  grasses,  like  subterranean 
clover,  can  provide  new  and  far  better  pastures; 
modern  genetics  can  provide  far  better  sheep. 
But  the  Australian  still  has  his  fingers  crossed. 
Suppose  the  farmer  puts  a  lot  of  money  into 
making  new  pastures  and,  that  year,  there  is 
no  rain?  There  are  memories  of  so  many  dis- 
asters—like the  great  smash  in  Victoria  in  the 
'nineties,  like  the  disastrous  policy  of  "close 
settlement"  in  the  "mallee  scrub"  that  ruined 
so  many  British  settlers  after  the  first  war. 

There  have  been  ten  good  years,  i.e.,  with 
adequate  rainfall.  But  1957  for  a  time  threat- 
ened to  be  a  bad  one.  This  is  a  country 
where  rain  is  reported  in  one-hundredths  of  an 
inch,  where  men  watch  that  rain  count  with 
far  more  anxiety  than  the  people  of  Los  Angeles 
watch  the  smog  count.  On  the  rain  depends 
the  wool  clip,  on  the  wool  clip  depends  the 
whole  economy.  Over  all  Australian  optimistic 
discounting  of  the  future  hangs  the  threat  of 
drought.  Australian  soil  chemists  and  Austral- 
ian animal  breeders  are  among  the  best  in  the 
world;  there  is  uranium;  there  may  be  oil;  in 
some  new  fields  of  industry,  Australia  is  a 
pioneer  (she  makes  the  cheapest  steel  in  the 
world).  For  this  kind  of  research,  the  federal 
government  pours  out  money. 

"We  mustn't  talk  of  a  population  of  twenty 
millions,  doubling  the  present;  we  must  aim 
at  a  hundred  millions  in  a  generation."  One 
hears  these  confident  prophecies  from  intelli- 
gent, worldly-wise  men  as  well  as  from  mere 
boosters.  The  sense  of  an  immense  effort  going 
forward,  of  at  last  justifying  the  often-deceived 
hopes  of  the  last  century,  is  exciting,  even  to 
the   visitor.    And   yet— and  yet— 

The  only  thing  the  world  definitely  wants 
from  Australia  is  the  wool  clip,  the  best  and 
biggest  in  the  world.  Only  the  most  preposter- 
ous tariffs  keep  Australia  from  supplying  the 
United  States  as  well  as  England,  France,  and 
Germany  with  wool.  But  this  great  pastoral 
industry  is  something  of  an  embarrassment  to 
Australia.  Around  it  legend  has  grown  or  been 
invented.  As  in  the  United  States,  totally  urban 
citizens  have  taken  to  themselves  the  alleged 
virtues  and  even   the  vices  of  the  shearers  and 


Ill 


AUSTRALIA:     THE      INNOCENT     CONTINENT 


stockmen.  Then  are  synthetic  folk  ballads, 
adapted  from  London  music-hall  songs,  and  Aus- 
tralian equivalents  ol  Paul  Bunyan  and  Mike 
Fink.  The  legend  is  largely  phony,  as  it  is  in 
America,  but  its  phoniness  is  revealing,  lor  it 
turns  the  eye  and  eai  awa)  From  the  basi< 
demographic  lac  i  ol  Australian  life— the  creation 
of  an  overwhelmingly  urban  society,  living  olf 
the  profits  <>i  a  rural  monopoly. 

Most  Australians  would  indignantly  den) 
litis,  claiming  that,  even  il  it  is  true  at  the 
moment,  soon  Australia  will  be  manufacturing 
not  only  for  hersell  but  for  the  whole  south- 
east \sian  market.  I!  there  were  no  alternative 
purveyor  but  the  United  States,  hamstrung  as 
the  United  States  is  and  will  be  by  her  own 
tariff  policy— i.e.,  her  unwillingness  to  be  paid- 
there  might  be  some  hope  for  Australia  in  this 
bold,  new  role.  But  in  competition  with  Brit- 
ain, Germain,  [apan,  and  Red  China,  only 
a  deeply  transformed  Australia  can  hope  to  off- 
set her  handicaps,  above  all  the  non  competitive 
attitude  of  Australian  labor. 

On  the  other  hand  to  depend  on  the  wool  clip 
or  other  agricultural  exports  offends  Australia's 
democratic  sensibility.  For  Australian  agriculture 
(in  its  widest  sense)  is  not  "democratic"  at  all. 
It  is  the  product  of  great  landowners,  individual 
or  corporate.  Of  course,  there  are  lots  of  small 
and  middling  farmers;  and  mixed  farming  is 
growing.  But  most  of  the  optimistic  experi- 
ments of  "close  settlement,"  intended  to  give  the 
country  the  equivalent  of  a  bold  independent 
peasantry,  have  been  abandoned  (except  in  the 
dreams  ot  Catholic  "Distributists").  The  most 
important  and  economically  representative  rural 
unit  in  Australia  is  more  like  the  King  Ranch 
than  like  the  frugal  American  husbandman  on 
his  quarter  section.  (I  ignore  the  element  of 
fiction  in  the  American  picture  of  America; 
it  is  less  than  in  the  Australian  picture  of 
Australia.)  And  the  equivalents  of  the  Kleberg 
family,  the  "graziers"  or,  as  they  are  hostilely 
known,  "the  squatters,"  are  politically  and 
socially  unpopular,  flagrant  denials  of  Australia's 
egalitarian  dream.  Other  Australians  regard 
them  as  usurpers  ol  the  national  domain— men 
whose  grandfathers  got  their  wealth  by  graft, 
b\  coercing  or  seducing  weak  royal  governors, 
and  built  their  fortunes  on  the  bloody  backs 
ol  the  white  slaves  of  the  convict  system. 


For  the  Ausir.ili.inN.  at  last,  have  got  ovei 
their  diffidence  about  tin  convicts.  The)  ma\ 
rightl)  celebrate  the  heroic  landing  on  (.alii 
poli  in  1915  rathei  than  the  coming  ol  "the 
First  Fleet"  in  1788  with  its  cargo  ol  comic  i 
emigrants.  But  there  is  now  more  readiness  to 
admit  that  the  convicts  and  their  natural  allies. 
the  pooi-law  exiles  from  Britain  and  Ireland. 
have  set  an  indelible  mark  on  Australia— the 
mark  ol  an  aggressiv<  egalitarianism  and  sus- 
picion ol  authority  and   "nice  people." 

The  pool  made  Australia:  the  rich,  lavorcd 
h\  the  imperial  government,  siole  it:  that  is 
an  epitome  ol  popular  Australian  history.  Unlike 
America.  Australia  has  nevei  Eorgiven  her 
Robber  Barons,  and  the  main  I  unction  ol  the 
Australian  state  is  not  to  favoi  production,  hut 
to  promote  equality— to  "spare  the  weak  and 
put  down   the  proud.' 


THE  consequences  are  many.  American 
business  firms  in  Australia,  like  the  Amer- 
ican services  there  in  the  war,  run  up  against 
a  hostility  to  "efficiency"  that  it  is  easy  but 
superficial  to  put  down  to  laziness.  Its  core  is 
"mateship"— the  desire  that  all  should  advance 
together  or  not  at  all.  The  curse  of  Adam 
is  a  curse,  why  kid  yoursell  that  it  is  a  bless- 
ing as  "the  Yanks"  and  "New  Australians' 
(European  immigrants)  and  even  some  of  the 
despised  "Pommies''  (recent  English  immigrants) 
do?  Why  kill  yourself  to  make  profits  for  the 
"boss  class"?  The\  tell  vou  you  will  share  in 
the  profits,  but  all  that  is  certain  is  that  you 
will  have  to  work  harder  and  lose  time  on 
the  dockside,  in  the  mine  and  the  factory,  that 
you  could  better  use  fishing,  going  to  race 
meetings  or  cricket  or  football  matches,  playing 
tennis,  reading,  or  even  making  love. 

Confronted  with  the  passionate  American  be- 
lief in  industry,  the  Australian  simply  thinks 
the  Yanks  are  mad.  When  they  have  made  their 
pile,  look  at  them,  frazzled  with  ulcers  and 
neuroses.  The  great  Snowy  River  hydroelectric 
scheme  is  being  built  b\  American  companies; 
their  speed  and  drive  are  generally  admired,  but 
1  found  no  passionate  desire  to  imitate  them. 
American  companies  like  General  Motors  have 
big  plants  in  Australia.    The  "Australian"  pop- 


BY     D.     W.     BROGAN 


65 


ular  car,  the  Holclen,  is  a  smaller  Chevrolet. 
But  General  Motors  can't  get  Detroit  results  in 
their  Australian  plants.  Labor  economists  and 
politicians  find  sophisticated  reasons  to  explain 
the  fact  that  only  Ireland  in  the  Western  world 
has  a  poorer  record  of  increasing  production 
per  head  of  work  force. 

"So  what?"  says  the  Australian  Labor  voter. 

The  Australian  worker  sees  in  the  boss  class 
the  old  enemies  he  and  his  ancestors  were  fight- 
ing in  Britain  and  Ireland,  then  in  the  colonies, 
long  before  Australia  turned  to  industry.  A 
leading  American  expert  in  industrial  concilia- 
tion came  back  from  an  Australian  trip  hor- 
rified at  the  gulf  between  workers  and  bosses. 
They  don't  negotiate  "at  arm's  length"  but  from 
behind  a  century-old  barrier  of  suspicion. 

This  class  hate  plus  the  memory  of  great 
strikes,  the  "Digger's"  permanent  chip  on  the 
shoulder  and  his  remoteness  from  the  dangerous 
European  and  North  Atlantic  world,  have  made 
an  indelible  imprint  on  Australian  politics.  The 
Australian  Labor  voter  is  a  "man  of  the  Left" 
in  the  French  sense.  Like  the  man  of  the  Left 
in  France,  he  is  reluctant  to  admit  that  the 
Soviet  Union  is  not  run  by  slightly  deviant 
brethren,  but  by  national  and,  more  important, 
class  enemies.  There  are,  I  should  guess,  more 
men  and  women  in  Australia  suffering  from  a 
"deception  d'amour"  caused  by  recent  Soviet 
performances  than  in  any  other  English-speak- 
ing country;  and  more  men  and  women  willing 
to  believe  that  most  of  it  is  a  Yankee  invention. 
Yet  even  the  stoutest  Australian  Marxists  are 
beginning  to  lose  faith  in  the  imminent  coming 
of  the  Red  dawn. 

For  one  thing,  there  is  a  purely  local  com- 
plication. No  open,  concealed,  or  unconscious 
Australian  Communist  is  daft  enough  to  apply 
the  party  line  inside  Australia.  They  may  all 
be  for  the  liberation  of  Asia,  and  they  all 
think  American  policy  toward  China  is  mere 
imbecility  where  it  is  not  malignant  warmonger- 
ing. But  one  thing  they  will  not  do  for  their 
oppressed  Asiatic  brethren— let  them  into  Aus- 
tralia. "White  Australia"  may,  in  the  begin- 
ning, have  been  a  device  of  the  boss  class,  but 
now  it  is  far  more  than  the  Monroe  Doctrine 
is  to  Americans.  The  Australian  Left  could  say 
with  Lowell's  Yankee: 

"I  do  believe  in  freedom's  cause 
As  far  away  as  Peking  is." 

The  Left  also  has  other  more  immediate 
things  to  worry  about.  In  Australia,  as  in 
France,  there  is  a  natural  Left  majority.     (More 


than  one  Australian  lamented  to  me  the  sterility 
of  Australian  Labor  party  thinking.  No  one 
discussed  the  thinking  of  the  Liberal-Country 
party  coalition  that  is  in  office;  it  is  assumed 
that  there  isn't  any.)  But  two  forces  have  dis- 
rupted the  "Left."  One  is  the  revolt  of  the 
Irish-Catholic  section  of  the  Labor  party  against 
fellow-traveling. 

THE    CATHOLIC     FORCE 

TH  E  Catholics,  almost  all  of  Irish  extrac- 
tion, are  a  quarter  of  the  population  and 
more  powerful  in  political  and  religious  organ- 
ization than  even  this  figure  would  suggest.  Far 
more  than  in  the  United  States,  the  Irish  have 
moved  into  politics,  and  politics  at  the  top.  They 
have  produced  a  series  of  federal  Prime  Ministers, 
many  state  Premiers,  and  politicians  of  all  ranks 
and  degrees  of  public  prestige.  (The  Australian 
equivalent  of  Mrs.  Roosevelt,  the  beautiful  and 
elegant  Dame  Edith  Lyons,  a  figure  in  her  own 
right  and  widow  of  a  famous  Prime  Minister,  is 
of  Irish-Catholic  origin.) 

The  Labor  party  has  depended  on  Irish  votes, 
leadership,  drive,  and  militancy.  But  whereas  the 
non-Catholic  Left  could  bear  with  equanimity 
the  persecution  of  the  Church  in  China,  Poland, 
Hungary,  etc.,  the  Catholic  rank  and  file  could 
not.  To  them  Dr.  H.  V.  Evatt,  the  erudite, 
reckless,  egotistic  lawyer-politician,  has  got  his 
hands  dirty  by  his  tolerance  of  fellow-traveling. 
To  Dr.  Evatt  and  his  followers,  the  Labor 
"Movement"  was  and  is  in  danger  from  clerical- 
ism and  imported  "Christian  Democracy"  a  la 
Gasperi  and  Adenauer.  In  the  bitter  personal  and 
doctrinal  war  that  still  rages,  the  Labor  party 
has  been  split  and  its  chance  of  governing  Aus- 
tralia lost  for  an  unknown  period  of  time— some 
unkindly  suggest  for  the  life  of  Dr.  Evatt. 

The  second  force  which  is  splintering  the  Left 
is  the  postwar  wave  of  immigration.  Australia, 
in  the  second  world  war,  got  a  bad  fright.  The 
fall  of  Singapore,  following  on  Pearl  Harbor, 
made  the  threat  of  Asia  sharp  in  all  minds. 
An  empty  Australia  asked  for  immigrants  from 
Europe,  armed  or  unarmed.  And  since  the  war 
immigration  has  been  encouraged  at  a  remark- 
able rate.  A  million  immigrants  have  come  since 
1945,  a  large  number  of  them  Italian,  German. 
Dutch,  and  Polish  Catholics.  Many  others  are 
"displaced  persons"— and  DPs  have  no  illusions 
about  the  Communists  being  misguided  brethren. 
They  don't  bring  with  them  British  and  Irish 
resentments;  they  have  their  own.  They  make 
poor  recruits  for  the  Labor  party,  and  now  they 


66 


AUSTRALIA:     THE     INNOCENT     CONTINENT 


are  being  naturalized  l>\   the  hundred  thousand 
and  M>nn   the)    will  hi'  voting. 

The  Australian  Lefl  is  thus  divided,  threat 
cnid.  and  bewildered.  Old  strongholds  like  the 
coastal  shipping  unions,  the  dockworkers,  and 
the  railwa)  workers  are  dwindling  in  impor- 
tance. The  airplane  and  the  truck— what  the 
Australians  call  "transports"— have  broken  the 
old  labor  monopolies.  The  new  Vmericanized  in- 
dustries, like  the  automobile  plants,  and  the  new 
steelworks,  which  offei  high  wages  and.  I>\  Aus- 
tralian stand. uds.  good  labor  relations,  are  hard 
to  fit  into  the  old  pattern  ol  "mateship."  There 
are  clashes  of  interest  inside  the  sacred  working 
class.  There  are  new  patterns  ol  labor  organiza- 
tion to  be  imitated,  which  cannot  be  pushed  to 
one  side  by  legislation  about  wages  01  court 
decisions  t<>  protect  such  sacred  tights  as  the 
"smoko."  (An  American,  even  a  British,  visitor 
learns  that  he  knows  nothing  ol  "featherbedding" 
until    he    has    been    to    Australia.) 

The  old  industries  are  in  the  red.  requiring 
both  subsidies  and  preposterous  tarifl  protec- 
tion, and  only  the  most  partisan  worshiper  ol 
the  traditions  ol  "the  Movement"  really  believes 
thai  the  stales  oi  die  Commonwealth  are  reach' 
to  run  great  businesses  like  the  Broken  Hill 
Proprietary  (the  great  vertical  trust),  to  produce 
steel  in  competition  with  Japan,  or  to  administer 
the  sheep  stations.  But  the  egalitarian  tradition 
is  strong.  The  bosses  of  Broken  Hill  and  the 
Bank  of  New  South  Wales,  the'  graziers  with 
their  high  incomes,  power  ol  bequest,  and  veto 
over  the  decisions  ol  the  Labor  politicians,  are 
an  affront  to  the  vision  of  Australia  as  the  land 
where  nobody  looks,  talks,  or  is  better  off  than 
anybody  else,  where  law  and  public  opinion 
combine  to  enforce  Big  Tim  Sullivan's  law,  "God 
and  the  People  hate  a  chesty  man." 

NOT     GIVING    A    DAMN 

AUSTRALIA  is  the  most  air-minded 
country  and  has  the  best  air  lines  of  any 
place  I  have  ever  visited.  The  train  is  even  more 
obsolete  than  it  is  in  the  United  States.  In  a 
five-weeks  tour,  covering  all  the  states,  I  not  only 
never  once  set  foot  in  a  train,  but  only  once  saw 
one— a  quaint  old  museum  piece  crawling  into 
Brisbane.  But  in  many  airports,  great  and  small, 
in  that  five  weeks,  I  saw  only  one  set  of  matched 
airplane  luggage.  Most  Australians  travel  by  air 
or  by  car;  there  is  little  left  of  that  class  dis- 
tinction in  flying  that  can  still  be  noticed  in 
Europe  and,  less  markedly,  in  the  United  States. 
That  many  Australians  should  use  ordinary  lug- 


gage while  living  is  not  surprising.  What  is 
surprising  is  that  privileged  Australians— "U" 
Australians-  do  nol  bothei  to  make  a  (lass 
impression  b)   their  luggage. 

Consider  how  much  American  advertising  is 
directed  to  the  increase  ol  status  confidence  <>i 
the  injection  ol  status  doubtl  Consider  how 
much  ol  English  life  is  devoted  to  acquiring 
the  outward  marks  ol  superior,  or  concealing 
marks  ol  inferior,  status,  or  defiantly,  irritably, 
unconvincingly,  asserting  thai  you  don'i  give 
a  damn.  Then  consider  the  Australian,  male 
or  female,  who  really  doesn't  give  a  damn  and 
shows  it  by  hauling  around  any  old  containers 
that  will  hold  his  or  her  clothes.  The  absence 
ol  airplane  luggage  is  a  double  symbol  of  a 
feature  ol  Australian  life  that  impressed  me 
more  and  more  as  I  moved  around:  the  absence 
ol  conspicuous  consumption  in  the  Veblenian 
sense;  the  absence  of  competitive  standards  in 
the  Madison  Avenue  sense. 

The  same  reflection  ol  a  social  ease,  or  in- 
difference, is  revealed  in  the  dress  of  Australian 
men.  I  am  not  myself  dressy,  but  there  were 
limes  in  Australia  when  I  felt  that  I  was  by 
comparison  with  the  men  around  me.  Many 
Australians  chess  like  American  businessmen,  in 
the  styles  that  they  see  in  the  American  journals 
they  read.  But  an  Australian  in  an  American- 
style  outfit,  with  baggy  pants  and  unshined 
shoes,  is  a  deeply  un-American  figure.  A  lew 
Australian  men  to  be  sure  dress  smartly  in  the 
English  "U"  manner,  often  with  English  clothes. 
(A  member  of  a  great  dynasty  told  me  that 
there  were  a  lew  good  tailors  in  Australia, 
but  not  one  first-class  one.  Men  of  this  type 
try  to  shop  in  London  as  their  wives  shop  in 
London   and    Paris.) 

Australia  is  lull  ol  men  who  haven't,  by  any 
means,  "got  everything,"  but  don't  want  any- 
thing that  they  haven't  got.  Still  odder,  Aus- 
tralian women  seem  equally  indifferent  to  the 
demands  of  fashion.  They  dress  less  care- 
fully, less  stylishly,  less  appropriately  than  the 
women  of  Western  Germany,  with  whom,  how 
ever,  they  share  a  deplorably  uncontrolled  lik- 
ing for  bright  colors.  True,  I  was  in  Australia 
in  the  winter.  In  the  summer,  I  was  told, 
Australian  women  when  dressed— which  is  onlv 
part  of  the  clay  in  that  beach-conscious  coun- 
try—dress well. 

It  is  rare,  indeed,  to  see  a  smart  woman  in 
the  streets  of  Melbourne  or  Sydney— and  I  am 
not  asking  for  the  standards  of  Paris  or  New 
York  or  San  Francisco;  I'll  settle  for  Glasgow 
or    Amsterdam.     Wrapped    up    in    woolies    like 


BY     D.     W.     BROGAN 


67 


so  many  teddy  bears,  "rugged  up"  as  they  put 
it  in  the  local  idiom,  they  conceal  what  I  am 
told,  and  am  ready  to  believe,  is  the  admirable 
natural  equipment  of  the  Australian  female 
with  an  almost  Moslem  zeal.  There  are,  of 
course,  exceptions.  French  houses  send  collec- 
tions (promptly  disfigured  by  the  zealous  cus- 
toms service).  Miss  Sybil  Connolly  from  Dublin 
sends  landing  parties.  But  the  advertising,  the 
archaic  underwear  on  display  in  the  big  stores, 
reveal  all  too  plainly  the  acceptance  of  a  non- 
competitive mediocrity.  No  one  should  look 
much  smarter  than  anybody  else;   nobody  does. 

Australiennes  who  have  known  other  skies- 
London,  New  York,  Paris— lament  that  you  can't 
get  a  hairdo,  or  at  least  a  decent  hairdo  any- 
where in  Australia  (the  heads  of  the  young 
Australians  suggest  that  there  is  something  in 
this  lament);  that  there  are  no  good  specialty 
shops;  that  you  can't  buy  a  really  smart  hat 
or  even  the  traditional  "little  black  frock"  in 
which  the  New  Yorker  or  Parisienne  advances 
to  battle.  And,  they  add,  there  is  no  battle,  for 
having  to  choose  between  women  and  horses, 
the  Australian  man,  like  that  most  phony  of 
gallants,   the  modern   Irishman,   chooses  horses. 

Housing,  like  clothing,  is  almost  aggressively 
modest.  There  is,  except  in  the  old  quarter 
of  Adelaide,  hardly  a  section  of  any  great 
Australian  city  that  gives  the  impression  of 
real  wealth.  The  smart  suburbs  of  Toorak 
(Melbourne)  and  Vaucluse  (Sydney)  are  solid 
middle-class  neighborhoods. 

"This  is  a  very  smart  neighborhood;  most  of 
the  houses  have  two  floors  and  two  cars,"  said 
a  bright  young  woman,  with  some  irony,  for 
she  had  lived  in  Europe.  This  has  another 
aspect,  too,  as  I  learned  when  I  commented  on 
the  tiny  size  of  the  houses  provided  for  the 
faculty  by  an   Australian   university. 

"Yes,"  replied  my  host.  "You  can  have  books 
or  a   baby,  you   can't  have   both." 

But  it  is  not  only  the  absence  of  competitive 
smartness  that  is  striking  in  Australia;  there 
is  also  the  survival  of  ancient  artifacts.  I  think 
the  oddest  sight  I  saw  was  the  typical  Australian 
substitute  for  the  brief  case— a  squarish  leather 
case,  black  or  brown,  now  totally  obsolete  in 
its  ancestral  home,  Britain.  I  was  puzzled,  at 
first,  as  to  where  I  had  seen  the  like.  Then  I 
remembered:  this  was  the  old  black  bag  in 
which  in  Scotland,  before  the  first  war,  doctors 
in  fable  brought  babies  and,  in  fact,  instru- 
ments and  drugs. 

I  could  explain  this  by  putting  the  praise 
or   blame   on    the   social    leadership    universally 


conceded  in  Australia  to  the  medical  profession. 
But  that  would  not  explain  the  absence  of 
shower  curtains  in  hotels,  the  absence  of  well- 
placed  shaving  mirrors  in  hotel  bathrooms,  the 
absence  of  writing  desks,  the  absence  of  any 
form  of  heating,  the  acceptance  of  unnecessary 
discomfort  which  surpasses  English,  or  even 
Irish,  tolerance,  as  the  cooking  surpasses  in 
badness  not  only  the  horrors  of  English  indus- 
trial towns,  not  even  the  horrors  of  Ireland, 
but  the  horrors  of  the  American  South. 

THE    COMPENSATIONS 

IT  WOULDbe  easy  to  put  all  this  down  to 
a  social  system  designed  to  penalize  effort 
the  way  colleges  like  Yale  and  Harvard  penalized 
it  around  1900.  The  Australian,  it  might  be 
said,  only  goes  out  for  the  equivalent  of  "gen- 
tleman's grades."  But  this  explanation  won't 
do.  The  Australian  educational  world— like 
many  other  Australian  worlds— is  run  in  a 
spirit  of  highly  competent  industry.  Austral- 
ian universities,  scandalously  under-endowed  to 
be  sure,  are— making  all  allowances  for  num- 
bers—the equal  of  good  American  universities. 
The  Australian  school  system  isn't  beset  with 
worries  about  "why  can't  Johnny  read."  Johnny 
not  only  can  but  does.  The  idle,  sports-loving 
Australians  spend  far  more  time  and  money 
on  books  than  do  the  serious  Americans.  A 
small  college  town  like  Armidale  has  a  better 
bookshop  than  any  in  American  college  towns 
I  know  ten  times  its  size.  Adelaide  has  a  book- 
shop equaled  only  in  a  very  few  much  bigger 
American  cities.  The  bookshops  of  Melbourne 
and  Sydney  are  among  the  best  in  the  world. 

No,  the  Australian  isn't  lazy;  he  is  relaxed. 
So  a  competent  British  observer  told  me.  There 
are  a  great  many  things  he  doesn't  think  worth 
worrying  over,  including  most  social  distinc- 
tions. To  the  British  visitor,  the  most  astonish- 
ing Australian  phenomenon  is  the  absence,  or 
near  absence,  of  identifiable  class  accents.  With- 
out trespassing,  incompetently,  into  the  field 
of  Professor  Henry  Higgins,  I  might  add  that 
there  are  of  course  many  accents  in  Australia, 
and  some  of  them  set  off  their  users  from  the 
Australian  mass.  But  some  mass  accents  don't 
set  off  their  users  from  anything.  And  to  hear 
an  intelligent,  critical,  sardonic  conversation 
(the  Australians  are  admirable  talkers)  in  an 
accent  which,  in  England,  one  associates  with 
near  illiteracy,  is  a  startling  experience. 

Australians  resent  having  the  basic  Sydney 
or   Melbourne   accent   called    "cockney."    I   saw 


68 


Al'STRALIA:     THE     INNOCENT     CONTINENT 


;i  musical  show  in  Sydney  in  which  the  elm  I 
comedian,  anxious  to  tell  som<  stories  reflect- 
ing on  the  "Pommies,"  couldn'l  use  .1  real 
cockney  accent,  for  only  Professoi  Higgins  could 
have  distinguished  i(  from  the  accent  of  most 
ol  his  hearers.  I  decided  that  the  Australians 
are  now  more  cockney  than  the  Cockneys;  the) 
drop  (heir  aitches  more  than  the  modern  Lon 
doner  does.  But  it  is  not  a  thing  to  make 
them  "look  back  in  anger."  To  one  English 
c  urse,  wounding  and  mutilating  snobbery,  they 
are  nearly  immune. 

And  to  the  American  curse  ol  pointless  com- 
petitive living,  the)  are  nearly  immune,  too. 
To  jump  by  ail  horn  Sydney  to  San  Francisco 
is  like  jumping  from  republican  to  imperial 
Rome.  Americans  told  ol  Australia's  egalitarian 
bias  and  absence  ol  the  driving  force  that  in 
America  makes  wealth  for  the  nation  and.  on 
.1  slightly  smaller  scale,  lor  the  psychiatrists,  can't 
believe  that  anything  is  well  done  in  Australia. 
But  a  great  main  things  are  ver\  well  done  in- 
deed, and  some,  like  having  a  public  educational 
ostein  that  teaches  more  than  constructive  Hy- 
ing, are  better  clone  than  in  America. 

No  doubt  relaxation  has  its  limits,  but  often 
they  are  appealing  limits.  Australians  "in 
strife,"  as  the  local  idiom  has  it.  can  be  for- 
midable and  vindictive  enemies,  as  they  can 
be  formidable  and  ruthless  soldiers,  and  they 
rather  glory  in  a  reputation  lor  lawlessness. 
Vet  it  is  such  small-scale  lawlessness!  The  local 
eomio  epic  ol  Sydney,  The  Sentimental  Blithe. 
has  just  been  reissued  in  a  castrated  edition. 
Its  hero  does  "bash"  policemen,  but  how 
harmless  he  is  by  American  standards!  How- 
harmless  the  Australian  equivalents  of  "crazy 
mixed-up  kids,"  the  "Widgies"  and  "Bodgies"  of 
Sydney!  Australians  may  "bash"  policemen,  wives, 
and  other  drivers;  there  are  petty  gangsters;  but 
Sydney  and  Melbourne,  each  with  populations 
ol  around  1,500,000.  have  less  deadly  crime  than 
epiite  small  American  cities.  There  is,  by 
repute,  a  lot  of  petty  graft  in  Australia,  but 
how  petty  in  its  cash  rewards,  how  compara- 
tively innocuous  in  its  methods  and  objec  ts  by 
American  standards!  The  contrast  goes  back  a 
long  way.  How  peaceful  the  history  of  the 
Australian  gold  rush  compared  with  the  violent 
anarchy  of  California!  How  innocent  the  one 
little  civil  disturbance,  the  Eureka  Stockade— 
a  less  serious  revolt  than  a  minor  strike  often 
provokes  in  America! 

And  there  is,  indeed,  a  winning  innocence  in 
the  Australian  attitude  to  the  outside  world. 
It    is    not    naive    or    ill-informed,    it    is    not— 


apart  from  the  sacred  cow  ol  "White  Australia"— 
isolationist.  The  Australians  take  a  highly  in- 
telligenl  interest  in  their  Asiatic  neighbors,  so 
much  nearer  to  them  than  to  the  Americans. 
But  they  have  a  reluctance  to  accept  some 
lac  ts  ol  this  iron  age.  They  still  cling  to 
the  old  belief  that  Australia  can  and  will  set 
an  example  to  the  old,  competitive,  harsh, 
militaristic  nations  ol  Europe— and  ol  North 
America.  Even  in  their  moment  of  peril  in 
1942,  Australians  refused  10  adopt  general  con- 
scription, and  many  still  talk  as  il  they  had 
shown  startling  magnanimity  in  adopting  con- 
scription in  any  form.  II  the  Yanks  were  fools 
enough  to  do  otherwise,  well,  all  right.  All 
rational  calculation  binds  Australia  to  the  United 
Stales  as  all  Australians  ol  any  intelligence 
know,  but  the  necessity  is  not  welcomed. 

CREEPING     AMERICANISM 

ALL  the  same,  some  aspects  of  the  Ameri- 
can way  of  life  are  coveted.  American 
methods  are  creeping  in.  And  these  cost  money 
and  effort  and  impose  unequal  reward  if 
they  are  to  be  paid  lot.  The  new  industries 
are  incompatible  with  "mateship."  The  legal 
fixing  of  wages,  that  keystone  of  the  egalitarian 
sociel\,  is  an  obstacle  to  the  new  and  abundant 
life  that  Australia  must  develop  if  it  is  not 
to  be  overwhelmed,  just  as  the  ceaseless  indus- 
try ol  the  new  Australians  is  a  source  of  irri- 
tation to  the  old.  It  is  hard,  even  in  Australia. 
10   prevent   industry   breeding  inequality. 

There  must  and  will  be  some  adjustments.  It 
would  be  a  pity  il  there  were  too  many.  The 
justification  ol  the  Australian  way  of  life  is  the 
Australian— intelligent,  relaxed,  open-minded, 
with  admirable  natural  "good  manners  and  none 
ol  the  oppressive  American  organization  of  good 
fellowship.  The  Australian  man— and  still  more 
the  Australian  woman— has  a  lot  of  time  not 
organized  lor  him  and  her  in  clubs  or  move- 
ments. He— and  she— buy  books,  not  "books  of 
the  month."  The  young  Australian  student 
seemed  to  me  more  lively  in  mind,  less  timid 
and  hidebound  than  the  American  students  I 
have  come  to  know.  A  department  store  adver- 
tising lor  somebody  with  a  "strong  sense  of 
sell"  seemed  a  voice  crying  in  the  wilderness.  I 
hope  it  wasn't  heard.  A  country  free  from 
salesmanship  has  main  attractions  and  one  great 
asset.  1 1  may  be  better  able  to  distinguish  the 
contents  from  the  packaging  than  the  American 
people,  in  this  critical  moment  in  their  history, 
have  been   trained  to  do. 


I l,n  />(■)  \  Magazine,  June  1958 


JOHN  KAY  ADAMS 

A  curious  alliance — including  a  shrewd 

grandmother,  some  angry  Negroes,  and 

honest  politicians  in  both  parties^-is 

making  it  harder  to  steal  an  election  .  .  . 

and  is  showing  the  way  for  fed-up 

citizens  in  other  boss-ridden   communities. 

IN  A  special  election  last  New  Year's  Eve, 
Chicagoans  voted  8  to  1  to  send  Roland  V. 
Libonati,  a  Democratic  party  hack,  to  Congress. 
The  results  were  even  more  overwhelming  in  the 
44th  Precinct  of  the  First  Ward,  where  Libonati's 
margin  was  a  sensational  40  to  1.  It  appeared 
also  that  85  per  cent  of  the  44th  Precinct  regis- 
tered voters  had  gone  to  the  polls— as  against 
only  22  per  cent  in  the  whole  District. 

.The  Election  Board  set  investigators  to  check 
up  on  this  phenomenal  turnout  and  they  found 
that  only  48  persons  had  signed  their  names  to 
vote  in  the  precinct  but  468  extra  votes  appeared 
mysteriously  on  the  voting  machines.  The  five 
precinct  judges  and  the  Democratic  precinct 
captain  were  called  into  court  to  try  to  explain 
it.  This  wasn't  the  first  time  for  the  captain, 
Morris  (Red)  Glickman.  Sixteen  years  ago  he 
served  thirty  days  in  jail  for  vote  fraud. 

In  trying  to  size  up  the  results  of  citizen  re- 
form campaigns  in  the  city,  I  talked  recently 
with  another  precinct  captain  about  cheating 
on  voting  machines. 

"People  think  voting  machines  are  foolproof," 
he  said.  "They  may  be,  mechanically,  but  they 
are  just  gadgets  operated  by  people.  I  control 
the  people." 


My  informant  is  a  veteran  of  thirty  years  in 
precinct  politics;  he  insisted  on  anonymity  and 
he  talked  as  if  all  the  frauds  he  described  be- 
longed to  the  "old  days."  But  I  gathered— in 
view  of  the  Libonati  election  scandal— that  the 
"old  days"  were  no  farther  back,  in  reality,  than 
the  last  election. 

In  a  larger  sense,  what  the  precinct  captain 
said  about  the  mechanical  voting  machine  ap- 
plies also  to  that  human  monster— the  political 
machine— by  which  party  bosses  have  tradition- 
ally controlled  city  government  in  this  country. 

Citizens  of  Chicago  have  been  driving  hard 
for  election  reform  since  1940.  The  Joint  Civic 
Committee  on  Elections,  representing  practically 
every  reform  outfit  in  the  city,  recruits  poll 
watchers  to  oversee  voting  in  all  big  elections— 
as  many  as  four  thousand  volunteers  have  at 
times  been  assigned  to  the  most  suspect  precincts. 
In  recent  elections  major  candidates  on  both 
tickets  have  campaigned  on  reform  platforms. 
The  once-invincible  Cook  County  Democratic 
machine,  which  covers  the  city  of  Chicago,  has 
been  cut  down— as  was  shown  most  clearly  in  the 
local  defeat  of  Illinois'  own  Adlai  Stevenson  in 
1956.  Public  pressure  has  brought  improved 
election  laws.  Fifty  reforms,  some  of  them  ob- 
scure but  important,  were  voted  last  summer  by 
the  Illinois  state  legislature. 

Yet  Chicago  still  has  one  of  the  worst  reputa- 
tions for  election  fraud  in  the  United  States.  In 
the  past  the  city  deserved  its  legendary  notoriety, 
but  many  claim  that  voting  now  is  pure,  com- 
paratively. As  a  newspaper  reporter,  I  have 
learned  that  facts  are  not  always  found  at  the 
top,  in  this  instance  in  the  high  conclaves  of 
Mayor  Richard  J.  Daley  and  his  party  chiefs. 
The  secret  strength  of  the  old  ward  system  is  at 
the  humblest  precinct  level  where  thousands  of 
petty   dictators   run    the   show.      These   are    the 


70 


REFORM  INC.     CHICAGO:     MOW      BUT     NOT     HOPELESS 


precinct  captains:  Republicans  and  Democrats, 
white  and  colored,  honest,  (looked,  timid,  bully- 
ing, all  kinds— appointed  1>\  ward  committeemen 
loi   the  sole  purpose  of  delivering  the  vote. 

I    \  I)  E  RMINING     THE     M  A  CHINE 

Til  1  big  political  picture  is  brightei  than 
it  used  to  be.  The  way  the  Democrats 
pul  it,  cheating  at  the  polls  is  nothing  like-  it 
was  thirty  years  ago  when  a  Republican  mayor, 
Big  Bill  Thompson,  was  running  the  <iiv  for  the 
Britain-haters  and  the  beer  barons.  The  way 
the  Republic  ans  see  it.  the  Cook  County  Demo- 
crats organization  is  cracking  from  within  and 
a  good  thing  for  Chicago,  too.  Even  with  a 
candidate  as  strong  as  Dale)  a  powerful  vote- 
getter,  a  quiet  family  man  with  a  clean  personal 
record— the  Democratic  machine  could  delivei 
only  a  modest  365,000  votes  lot  him  in  a  1951 
primary.  That  was  a  three  to  two  majority 
ovei  his  opponent,  loimei  \la\oi  Martin  H. 
Kennelly,  a  presentable  figurehead;  but  it  was 
a  lai  cr)  from  the  600,000  primary  votes  which 
the  machine  delivered  in  its  last  knock-down  pri- 
mary fight  lor  the  late  Mayor  Edward  |.  Kelly 
in   1939. 

Three  outstanding  Chicago  Democrats  have 
climbed  to  prominence  in  recent  years  within 
the  machine  and  then  defied  it:  Frank  Kecnan. 
elected  county  assessor  as  a  Democrat,  turned 
Republican  in  1954  and  supported  Republican 
Robert  E.  Merriam— another  formei  Democrat— 
in  his  battle  tor  mayoi  against  Daley;  and  Ben- 
jamin S.  Adamowski,  a  defecting  Democrat,  was 
elected  Cook  Countv  State's  Attorney  as  a  Re- 
publican. Merriam  was  beaten  708, (><">(>  to 
581,461,  but  probably  hopes  to  make  a  comeback. 
Keenan  is  finished  politically.  He  was  convicted 
of  income-tax  evasion  and  sentenced  to  two  years 
in  prison.  The  county  Board  expelled  him  from 
the  assessor's  office. 

But  if  Adamowski  and  President  Eisenhower's 
appointee,  If.  S.  District  Attorney  Robert  Tie- 
ken,  constitute  a  strong  threat  to  corrupt  politi- 
cal practices  by  either  party,  the  Democrats  have 
naturally  received  the  victor's  share  of  attention. 
Tieken  has  subpoenaed  stoics  ol  precinct  cap- 
tains, election  board  members,  and  illegal  voters 
from  nine  of  Chicago's  fifty  wards  and  paraded 
them  before  federal  grand  juries. 

In  Tieken's  most  celebrated  prosecution,  a 
guilty  precinct  captain,  seventy-one-year-old 
Louis  W.  Nathan,  was  sentenced  to  five  years  in 
prison.  The  decision  was  a  body  blow  to  all  dis- 
honest   precinct    captains,    lor    it    showed    their 


bosses    could    no    longer    give    them    protection. 

"I'm  sorr)  to  have  to  commit  a  man  ol  his 
age  to  tin  penitentiary,"  said  U.  S.  Distiici  [udge 
Julius  J.  Hoffman,  "lint  Congress  has  not  said 
that  a  man  ovei  si\t\  five  should  receive  no 
penalty.  .  .  . 

"Tampering  with  the  election  procedures  in 
one  pu  cine  i.  especially  by  individuals  bold 
enough  to  operate  undet  assumed  names,  fosters 
the  supposition  that  such  baud  not  only  exist-. 
in  oilui  areas,  but  even  is  an  accepted  but  ol 
Amei  ic  an  politic  al  life." 

THE     HAND     ON     THE     LEVER 

BUT  while  these  prosecutions  have  strength- 
ened the  efforts  ol  the  reform  movement  on 
a  cii\,  county,  and  state-wide  basis,  the  situation 
on  the  wait!  level  is  still  obscure.  Chicago's 
thousands  ol  Republican  and  Democratic  pre- 
cinct captains,  appointed  b\  the  ward  committee- 
men, have  no  responsibility  to  the  voters— except 
to  win  their  confidence  and  support  lor  the  party 
ticket  on  election  claw  Although  the  ward  com 
mitteemen  are  elected  in  part)  primaries,  they 
are  nominated  by  the  party  chiefs  and  rarely  op- 
posed. Fhe  precinct  captains  are  not  supposed 
to  get  the  committeemen  in  trouble  by  dishonest 
practices,  but  il  the)  lad  to  deliver  the  vote  they 
forfeit  then  hopes  ol  a  political  career  and  their 
sinecures  in  City   Hall. 

The  veteran  precinct  captain  who  told  me 
that  the  voting  machine  was  just  a  "gadget"  and 
boasted  that  he  "controlled"  the  people  said  that 
a  small  li\  captain— one  who  hadn't  clone  his 
legitimate  ward  work  well  and  was  scared— could 
still  guarantee  success  lor  the  party  at  the  polls. 
No  one  knows  who  pulls  the  lever  on  the  voting 
machine.  It  is  supposed  to  be  the  voter,  but  the 
election  judge  often  steps  behind  the  curtain  on 
the  pretense  of  assisting  an  illiterate.  If  the  pre- 
cinct captain  has  chosen  both  Democratic  and 
Republican  members  lor  the  election  board  at 
the  polls,  there  is  nobody  to  object.  Where  the 
captain  has  made  a. good  "deal"  in  the  precinct, 
he  can  easily  pay  the  policeman  to  be  out  to 
lunch  all  day  and  the  poll  watcher  to  look  the 
other  way. 

Of  course,  this  kind  of  cheating  has  to  be  bi- 
partisan; Republican  and  Democratic  precinct 
captains  must  be  in  cahoots. 

"The  Republican  precinct  captain  is  watching 
me.  He  is  as  smart  as  I  am,"  said  the  captain. 
"I  can't  get  away  with  anything  unless  a  deal  is 
made.  I've  been  on  both  the  winning  and  the 
losing  side,  depending  on  the  agreement  made  b) 


the  ward  committeemen.  They  decide  and  we 
get  the  orders." 

At  the  precinct  level,  when  the  majority  party 
owns  the  minority  party,  the  captain's  pitch 
might  be:  "Look,  I'm  going  to  let  you  have  three 
or  four  jobs.  You  have  some  boys  you'd  like  to 
reward,  but  you  haven't  a  chance  and  you  know 
it.  I  don't  want  any  trouble  from  you  Republi- 
cans. If  you  don't  work,  I  won't  have  to  spend 
my  time  and  money  fighting  you.  We  can  turn 
over  some  of  the  money  Ave  save  to  you,  and 
we'll  all  be  ahead." 

They  shake  hands  and  the  Democrat  names 
both  Democratic  and  Republican  members  of 
the  board.  He  sweetens  each  board  member's 
$25  official  pay  with  a  matching  amount,  spreads 
a  little  extra  money  here  and  there,  and  is  free 
to  operate. 

His  work  sometimes  produces  results  startling 
to  the  outsider.  In  the  Daley-Kennelly  primary, 
for  example,  there  were  sharply  different  results 
in  neighboring  precincts.  One  precinct  cast  485 
for  Kennedy  and  7  for  Daley.  Across  the  street 
in  the  same  ward  the  vote  was  400  for  Daley  and 
10  for  Kennedy. 

The  man  least  likely  to  protest  is  the  voter 
himself.  Even  if  he  isn't  dependent  on  a  city 
job  or  doesn't  mind  paying  traffic  tickets,  he 
doesn't  want  to  repair  his  own  street  or  haul 
his  own  garbage.  The  alternative  may  be  to 
move  to  one  of  the  two  hundred  Chicago  sub- 
urbs and  live  in  blissful  contempt  for  the  city's 
problems.  In  the  opinion  of  the  precinct  captain, 
the  indifferent,  unprotesting  voter  is  the  biggest 
friend  the  political  machine  has. 

"Much  emphasis  has  been  put  on  the  thieving 
jaolitician,"  he  told  me.  "But  get  this  straight. 
It's  the  public  that  is  lax.  The  ballot,  the  thing 
most  sacred  to  our  democracy,  is  the  thing  they 
know  the  least  about.  If  they  would  find  out 
what  it's  all  about  and  turn  out  in  herds,  what 
the  hell  could  any  captain  do?" 

THE     CHAIN     BALLOT 

IT  I  S  true  that  the  mechanical  voting  gadget 
has  eliminated  some  old  dodges,  but  machines 
are  not  in  general  use  throughout  the  nation. 
Even  Chicago,  comparatively  progressive  in  this 
respect,  still  has  paper  ballots  in  30  per  cent  of 
its  3,779  precincts.  In  these,  the  old-time  "chain" 
ballot  can  still  be  as  effective  as  it  was  fifty  years 
ago  when  a  couple  of  characters  named  Bath- 
house John  Coughlin  and  Hinky  Dink  Kenna 
used  it  to  run  the  city  from  a  Turkish  bath  and 
saloons  in  the  downtown  red  light  district. 


BY     JOHN     KAY     ADAMS  71 

The  virtue  of  the  chain  ballot  is  its  simplicity. 
The  precinct  captain  doesn't  have  to  bribe  the 
whole  election  board.  He  operates  from  outside 
the  polling  place.  All  he  needs  is  a  pocketful  of 
small  bills  and  one  unmarked  official  ballot. 

"I  stop  a  voter  going  into  the  polling  place," 
said  the  captain.  "I  give  him  the  ballot  which 
I  have  marked  myself.  All  he  has  to  do  is  get 
a  clean  ballot  from  the  election  judge  and  bring 
it  back  to  me  to  get  his  money.  My  boy  makes 
the  switch  while  he  is  inside  the  booth  and  gives 
the  ballot  I  marked  to  the  judge. 

"Not  only  do  I  have  an  unmarked  ballot  for 
the  next  guy,  I  have  absolute  proof  that  my  boy 
did  as  he  was  told.  Naturally,  I  would  never  try 
that  with  anyone  unless  I  knew  he  would,  go 
along  with  it.  If  I  suspect  he  might  holler  for 
a  cop,  I  forget  it." 

(The  law  recognizes  the  evil  of  the  chain 
ballot  and  provides  safeguards.  The  election 
judge  is  supposed  to  place  his  initials  on  the 
back  of  each  ballot  when  he  hands  it  to  the 
voter.  When  the  judge  gets  the  ballot  back,  he 
verifies  his  own  initials.  Then  the  judge,  not  the 
voter,  places  the  folded  ballot  in  the  box.  Yet  it 
is  almost  traditional  for  a  news  photographer  to 
catch  the  leading  candidate  violating  the  law  by 
placing  his  own  ballot  in  the  box.) 

"If  I'm  operating  inside  the  polling  place," 
said  the  captain,  "I  know  a  voter  who  is  against 
me  when  I  see  him.  I  signal  my  judge  and  he 
hands  the  goof  a  ballot  with  no  initials  on  it. 
The  voter  won't  notice,  and  during  the  counting 
we  throw  out  his  ballot.  He  thinks  he  voted 
against  me,  but  he  didn't  vote  at  all." 

Permanent  registration  has  put  a  crimp  in  the 
captain's  old  practice  of  voting  for  people  who 
have  died  or  moved  away.  "Everyone  had  100  to 
150  stiffs  on  his  list.  I  remember  one  time  we 
had  a  hundred  ballots  for  stiffs.  We  marked 
them  easily  enough  in  another  building,  but  we 
had  a  watcher  that  day  who  couldn't  be  bought. 
He  wouldn't  go  out  to  eat.  He  wouldn't  even 
go  to  the  toilet. 

"Three  o'clock  came  around  and  those  ballots 
weren't  in  the  box  yet.  We  were  beginning  to 
get  desperate.  Finally  we  faked  a  fight,  and  the 
policeman  tossed  out  everyone  but  our  board 
members.    In  a  minute  it  was  all  fixed." 

In  a  notoriously  fraudulent  election  in  1954, 
a  racial  contest  made  the  steal  so  obvious  that 
Chicago  reformers  later  publicized  the  lopsided 
results  effectively.  On  Chicago's"  West  Side  a 
respected  Negro  physician,  Dr.  Joshua  M.  Brown, 
ran  as  an  independent  candidate  for  state 
representative.     The    [continued    on    page    74~\ 


OPERATION  UPTURN: 


Excerpts  from  the  report  of  Ralph  J.  Cor  diner  to  General  Electric  share  owners: 


IN  the  light  of  economic  circumstances  today,  what 
must  be  done  to  bring  about  the  resurgence  of  busi- 
ness and  employment  that  everyone  wants?  The  situa- 
tion seems  ripe  for  a  special  effort:  consumers  have 
the  money  to  spend,  industry  is  tooled  up  to  deliver  as 
never  before,  and  there  are  signs  that  the  upturn  is 
trying  to  get  under  way. 

Opportunities  to  serve  customers  better 

//  seems  to  me  that  the  most  practical  and  effective 
course  right  now  is  for  every  business  to  buckle  clown 
and  sell  goods  as  never  before.  I  mean  a  total  effort, 
by  every  man  and  woman  on  the  job,  to  concentrate  on 
airing  customers  the  best  service  and  the  best  reasons  to 
buy  they  ever  had.  King  Customer  needs  some  construe- 
tire  attention.  He  is  willing  to  do  his  part,  if  he  is  con- 
vinced that  this  is  the  time  to  buy.  Let's  convince  him 
by  shotting  him  the  best  values  and  by  giving  him  the 
best  service  he  could  ask  for. 


This  may  seem  like  an  old-fashioned  prescription  to 
those  who  are  shouting  for  massive  government  make- 
work  programs  and  meaningless  tax  cuts,  but  we  in 
General  Electric  are  convinced  that  what  happens  to 
the  economy  in  the  remainder  of  this  year  will  be 
largely  determined  by  what  business  does  to  help  its 
customers  and  itself.  This  is  a  do-it-yourself  country. 
Each  of  us  is  in  some  way  responsible  for  a  part  of 
the  total  effort,  as  a  consumer,  an  employee,  an  investor, 
a  voter,  or  whatever  roles  we  play  in  economic  life. 

That  is  not  to  say  that  federal,  state,  and  local  govern- 
ments do  not  have  important  work  to  do.  There  are 
many  constructive  measures  that  would  stimulate  a 
sound  recovery  without  sowing  the  seeds  of  future  infla- 
tion. What  I  am  suggesting  is  that  the  government  must 
provide  the  political  conditions  in  which  the  economy 
can  work  its  way  out  of  the  recession:  but  the  govern- 
ment cannot  be  expected  to  cure  the  recession. 


'OPERATION 


up/turn 

jfEjFlBuild  sales  and  jobs  in  '58 

GENERAL®  ELECTRIC 


A  nation-wide  "do-it-yourself"  program 
to  help  build  sales  and  jobs  in  1958 


Outstanding  values  available  now 

General  Electric's  three-year,  $500,000,000  program 
of  capital  expenditures,  which  was  announced  in  1955, 
is  proceeding  on  schedule.  This  modernization  and 
expansion  program  has  put  the  company  in  an  excellent 
position  to  give  its  customers  outstanding  values  and 
up-to-date  products. 

The  competitive  industry  prices  at  ivhich  General 
Electric  sells  have  remained  about  level,  in  spite  of  the 
continued  rise  in  costs.  Customers  are  getting  unusual 
values  at  today's  prices,  and  this  will  help  build  busi- 
ness volume  back  up  to  the  normal  trend.  Looking  at 
the  situation  realistically,  however,  such  bargain  prices 
cannot  be  expected  to  continue  indefinitely. 

In  addition,  the  company  is  offering  improved  credit 
terms  that  recognize  the  problems  of  the  times.  More 
advantageous  terms  have  been  made  available  through 
the  General  Electric  Credit  Corporation,  such  as  the  Un- 
employment Protection  Plan  to  aid  customers  through 
periods  of  unemployment  due  to  sickness  or  layoff. 

A  program  to  accelerate  the  upturn 

This  is  a  moment  of  opportunity.  The  slight  upturn 
in  some  sectors  can  be  turned  into  a  definite  trend,  and 
then  snowball  into  a  steady  recovery,  if  business  will 
make  a  fresh,  concerted  effort. 

To  this  end,  the  General  Electric  Company  today 
announces  that  it  is  setting  in  motion  a  company-wide 
program  of  aggressive  action  in  all  departments  and  in 
all  functions  to  accelerate  the  upturn  in  business. 

It  is  known  as  OPERATION  UPTURN.  Basically,  it 
is  a  program  to  accelerate  the  upturn  in  business  by 
bringing  extra  values  and  renewed  confidence  to  cus- 
tomers. Its  purpose  is  to  build  sales  and  jobs  in  1958. 
All  across  the  country,  other  companies  are  announcing 
their  own  plans  to  stimulate  sales  and  renew  public 
confidence.  OPERATION  UPTURN  is  part  of  this  ex- 
citing national  picture  of  the  people  of  the  United 
States  shaking  themselves  loose  from  the  doubt  and 
confusion  of  recent  months  and  setting  about  purpose- 
fully to  resume  the  national  advance. 

Remember,  programs  such  as  this,  even  if  they  are 
conducted  by  all  the  leading  companies  in  the  country, 
cannot  work  overnight  miracles.  But  the  tide  is  turning, 
and  this  is  the  time  for  a  massive  effort  by  everyone 


OPERATION 
UPTURN... 


is  General  Electric's  program  to  help  acceler- 
ate the  upturn  in  business  by  bringing  extra 
values  and  renewed  confidence  to  customers. 
Its  purpose  is  to  build  sales  and  jobs  in  1958 
through  the  enthusiasm  and  participation  of 
more  than  a  quarter  million  employees,  their 
community  friends  and  neighbors,  some  45,000 
suppliers,  more  than  400,000  firms  that  sell  or 
service  the  company's  products,  and  nearly  half 
a  million  share  owners.  OPERATION  UPTURN 
can  help  all  of  us  together  to  contribute  more 
effectively  toward  our  common  goals  and  add 
confidence  and  strength  to  the  nation's  economy. 


to  keep  the  economy  moving  in  the  right  direction.  All 
signs  indicate  that  this  country  can  have  its  biggest 
surge  of  growth  in  the  1960's. 

Responsibilities  for  every  citizen 

In  a  free  economy,  economic  growth  is  paced  and 
directed  by  the  decisions  of  millions  of  businessmen, 
consumers,  investors,  employees  —  indeed,  by  every 
citizen.  The  faith  of  our  society  is  that  these  millions  of 
points  of  initiative  will  produce  swifter  progress,  with 
greater  liberty,  than  any  system  of  centralized  control. 

Thus,  a  business  recession  is  really  a  test  of  the 
American  people  and  their  form  of  society.  Their 
decisions  —  to  buy,  to  invest,  to  modernize,  to  work 
more  purposefully,  to  raise  their  levels  of  living  —  will 
determine  the  speed  of  economic  advance.  They  will 
also  decide  whether  Russia  will,  as  she  has  announced, 
surpass  us  in  the  years  ahead. 

It  is  my  opinion  that  the  American  people  will  bring 
about  the  upturn  this  year  and  head  into  a  great  surge 
of  growth  that  will  leave  both  the  recession  and  the 
Russians  far  behind.  This  is  what  we  Americans  want. 
And  what  we  want,  we  are  willing  to  work  for.  That 
is  all  that  is  needed. 


Progress  Is  Our  Most  Important  Product 

GENERAL®  ELECTRIC 


71 


REFORMING     CHICAGO:     SLOW      P.  I     I       NOT     HOPELESS 


second  district  post  he  soughi  covered  sixty-six 
precincts  where  Negroes,  although  in  the  ma- 
jority, are  virtually  without  representation.  The 
chairman  <>l  the  committee  [01  Dr.  Brown  was 
the  Reverend  Vrchie  Hargraves,  pastoi  ol  the 
Lawndale  Community    Presbyterian  Church. 

"Dr.  Brown's  candidacy,"  said  Mr.  Hargraves, 
"was  an  attempt  to  break  the  grip  ol  the  ma- 
chine in  an  area  where  it  is  pretty  strong.  We 
organized  and  got  people  to  man  ever)  one  ol 
the  precincts  for  Broun.  Ii  was  the  first  linic 
in  a  long  time  there  had  been  an\  leal  campaign 
in  the  pi  imary. 

"When  election  da)  came,  we  thought  we  had 
a  good  chance.  Then  reality  set  in.  We  didn't 
have  enough  roving  squads  to  answer  all  the 
complaints  from  our  watchers.  The  main  trouble 
was  with  judges  going  into  the  voting  machines, 
supposedl)  to  instruct,  but  actually  pointing  out 
which  wm  in  vote.  I  hey  either  pulled  the  levers 
themselves  or  told  people  which  one  to  pull. 
Several  watchers  told  us  \agrants  on  West  Madi- 
son Street  (Skid  Row)  were  paid  oil  right  in  front 
ol  them.  The  pi  ic  e  w  as  S2. 

"Our  people  have  a  very  real  desire  for  a 
voice  in  the  government.  The)  were  instituted 
to  vote  lor  one  man  only,  which  would  have 
given  Brown  three  votes  foi  each  voter  under  the 
cumulative  voting  system.  Hut  in  some  ol  the 
heavily  Negro  precincts,  Brown  got  only  six  or 
seven   voles." 

When  it  was  over  Dr.  Brown's  supporters  were 
thoroughly  chastened.  The  count  showed  the 
leading  machine  candidates— an  Italian  and  an 
Irishman— had  more  than  18,000  votes  each.  Dr. 
Brown  had  only  1,339.  Reformers  used  this  <ase 
to  recruit  poll  watchers  and  to  put  a  needle  in 
their    lobbyists   at    the    slate    legislature. 

GRANDMA     CLEANS     HOUSE 

ELECTION  reform  in  Chicago  has  got 
right  down  into  the  precincts,  those  nerve, 
centers  of  the  ui\.  county,  and  state  political 
machines.  But  it  still  has  a  long  wav  to  go.  The 
rallying  point  is  the  Joint  Civic  Committee  on 
Elections,  which  includes  workers  from  women's 
clubs,  fraternal  and  social  organizations,  service 
clubs,  and  (lunch  and  neighborhood  groups. 
Their  main  activity  is  to  recruit  volunteer  poll 
watchers,  to  oriel  them  in  precinct  politics,  and 
to  keep  them  on  the  job  from  six  in  the  morning 
on  election  day.  It  the  watcher  is  late,  the  ballot 
box  may  already  be  completely  stuffed  when  he 
walks  in. 

The   chief   instructor   is    Mrs.    Laura    Hughes 


Lunde,  a  grandmothei  who  has  been  poll  watch- 
ing and  lobbying  I01  bettet  election  laws  since 
1941.  She  is  scciciaiv  ol  the  Illinois  Conference 
on  Legislation  and  the  Citizens  of  Greater  Chi- 
cago. She  leal  necl  all  the  trickso!  the  poll  watch- 
ing name  In  si  ha  in  I.  \i  one  election,  she  watched 
iii  a  filthy  slum  neighborhood: 

"One  ol  the  judges  told  me  privatel)  that  the) 
had  nearly  600  votes  in  thai  precinct  in  the 
previous  election,"  \hs.  Lunde  said.  "When  my 
leliel  watchci  showed  up  at  3:30  there  had  been 
only  350  <as(.  Three  times  men  came  in  who 
evidentl)  were  feared  by  the  poor  wretches  on 
the  election  board.  They  demanded  openly, 
'U'hv  haven't  you  got  more  voles?'  and  the  pre- 
cinct captain  pointed  silently  to  me." 

Another  frightened  board  member— a  woman— 
once  told  Mis.  Lunde:  "You  aren't  going  home, 
aie  you?  When  you  are  around,  the  precinct 
1  aptain  can't  make  me  <  heat." 

1  he  Illinois  election  code  (which  is  .100  pages 
long  and  incomprehensible  to  most  election 
board  members)  requires  registration  canvassers 
and  election  board  officials  to  reside  in  the  pre- 
cincts or  wards  they  serve.  In  blight  areas,  com- 
petent people  are  difficult  to  find.  Besides  a  pre- 
cinct captain  with  larcenous  intentions  doesn't 
want  a  brainy  board,  and  he  recommends  only 
the  people  he  can  dominate.  The  election  com- 
mission is  chronically  short  of  precinct  board 
members,  so  the  captain's  nominations  almost 
always  stand.  Mrs.  Lunde  sympathizes  with  the 
board  members  most  ol  the  time;  you  can't 
criticize  people  who  are  not  lice,  she  savs. 

Mis.  Lunde  is  impartial  in  her  criticism  of 
Republicans  and  Democrats.  Republican  mem- 
bers of  the  legislature  have  been  trying  to  repeal 
permanent  voter  registration  ever  since  1941,  she 
savs,  because  it  blocks  efforts  of  Downstate  Re- 
publicans to  run  in  votes  against  Democratic 
Cook  County.  "In  rural  areas  everywhere,  there 
is  little  public  knowledge  of  vote  fraud  and  no 
attempt  to  do  anything  about  it.  But  I've  learned 
that  nothing  crooked  is  done  in  the  river  wards 
ol  Chicago  that  is  not  clone  more  effectively  by 
the  Downstate  Republicans." 

The  fifty  laws  passed  last  summer  by  the  Illi- 
nois legislature  did  something  to  tighten  the 
election  code  but  most  changes  were  minor. 
"Every  time  we  take  a  licking  we  learn  some  new 
nicks,"  said  one  veteran  ol  the  legislative  wars. 
"We'll  get  'em  yet." 

Three  basic  changes  are  the  long-range  objec- 
tives of  the  reformers  on  the  legislative  front. 

The  first— a  law  to  require  election  ol  pre- 
cinct   captains— applies    only    to    Cook    County, 


Sail  on  this  adventure  in  leisure       go 


You  photographed  Tahitian  beauties 
against  the  fabulous  background  of 
Moorea,  roamed  New  Zealand  shops  for 
Maori  souvenirs.  Now,  it's  fascinating 
Australia,  then  Fiji,  Samoa  and  Hawaii. 
Visit  all  these  lands  on  Matson's  yacht- 
like mariposa  or  Monterey.  Time  short? 
Business  pressing?  Sail  Matson  one  way, 


fly  the  other  or  stop  off  anywhere  along 
the  route.  A  42-day  round-trip  from 
$1035.  One  way  to  New  Zealand,  from 
$505;  to  Australia,  from  $575.  All  accom- 
modations in  First  Class,  air-conditioned 
with  private  bath.  Supreme  cuisine,  service 
and  entertainment.  Sailings  from  Califor- 
nia every  3  weeks.  See  your  Travel  Agent. 


THE    SMART    WAY    TO 

NEW  ZEALAND 
a^/  AUSTRALIA 


Matson  Lines  .   The  Oceanic  Steamship  Company   .   Offices:  New  York,  Chicago,  San   Francisco,  Seattle,  Portland,  Los  Angeles,  Honolulu,  Vancouver,  B.C. 


76 


REFORM  INC.     CHICAGO:     SLOW     BIT     NOT     HOPELESS 


where  the  undemocratic  appointment  system 
makes  the  captain  a  little  tin  god.  The  KM 
Downstate  Illinois  counties  already  elecl  their 
precinct  lea'dei  s. 

The  second  objective  is  the  abolition  of  the 
absentee  ballot.  Although  the  public  thinks  ol 
the  absentee  ballot  as  a  convenience,  u  has  hern 
much  abused.  Official  ballots  Eor  absentee  voters 
may  escape  from  the  <usi<hI\  ol  election  officials 
and  often  become  the  stall  ol  a  "chain"  ballot. 
No  oath  is  required  ol  a  doctoi  who  signs  an 
affidavit  that  the  votei  is  ill.  \  Christian  Science 
practitionei  ma)  also  legally  sign  the  illness  affi- 
d.i\  it. 

I  he  third  goal  is  elimination  ol  illiterac)  .is 
a  basis  loi  assistance  in  easting  ballots  on  voting 
machines.  The  law  allows  a  \olei  to  have  assist- 
ance il  he  is  blind,  physically  incapacitated,  or 
illiterate.  When  the  law  is  abused,  tin  precinct 
captain  can  control  the  voting,  and  the  whole 
sti  uc  tuie  lot  protecting  the  secrec)  ol  the  ballot 
breaks  down.  According  to  1 1.u  \e\  \\  ecks.  attor- 
ii*  \  lot  the  Joint  Civic  Committee  on  Elections, 
"Voters  sometimes  sa\  the)  an-  illiterate  merely 
to  prove  to  the  precinct  captain  the)  are  going 
clown  the  line  lot  him.  .  .  .  Nine-tenths  ol  the 
\oiers  in  the  city  cast  straight  ballots.  1  hose- 
lew  who  split  ballots  usually  are  persons  who 
don't  have  an)  trouble  reading.  1  he  parties  on 
the  straighl  ticket  levers  are  top  lor  Republican 
and  bottom  lot  Democratic,  oi  \i<e  versa.  Any- 
one who  doesn't  know  top  from  bottom  shouldn't 
be  voting  anywa) ." 

I  hese  three  reforms  would  break  the  control 
ol  the  precinct  captain  and  safeguard  the  secrec) 
ol  the  ballot.  "We  need  laws  and  vigilance,"  Mr. 
Weeks  has  said,  "to  keep  the  voter  from  cheating 
e\  en  il  he  wants  to." 

PEOPLE     IN      HIGH     PLACES 

IN  CASE  you  have  decided  that  Chicago 
voters  aie  particularly  stupid,  stop  and  ask 
yourself  how  the  precinct  captains  are  chosen  in 
your  city.    Do  you  know? 

In  Chicago— quite  naturally— some  of  the  peo- 
ple who  know  most  about  the  situation  are  re- 
sponsible officials— even  the  mayor  himself.  It 
is  perhaps  surprising  to  find  some  ol  them  back- 
ing the  reform  movement. 

The  Democratic  machine  has  a  colorful,  out- 
spoken advocate  of  clean  elections  in  Sidney  T. 
1  lolzman,  Chairman  ol  the  Board  ol  Election 
Commissioners.  Describing  himsell  as  a  realist, 
Holzman  advocates  the  use  ol  registration  can- 
vassers from  outside  the  precinct,  and  the  repeal 


ol  the  absentee  ballot.  "One  pi  ae  tie  a  I  reason,"  he 
s.i\s.  "is  that  it  costs  $1.17  lo  handle  a  legul.u 
ballot  and  $4.31   lor  an  absentee  ballot." 

Holzman  is  not  much  impressed  with  people 
who  sta\  in  bed  on  Tuesda)  and  then  scream 
about  fraud  on  Wednesday.  "We  are  dealing 
with  two  million  nun  and  women  who  have  the 
privilege  ol  voting  and  20,000  judges  who  are 
protecting  thai  privilege.  Some  will  do  wrong. 
Who  can  s.i\  what  an  evil-doer  is  intending?" 

Mayoi  Daley— who  has  been  (\pc-east  b)  his 
opponents  as  a  ruthless  political  boss  may  turn 
out  lo  be  an  effective  election  reformer.  In  1051, 
the  Cook  Count)  central  committee  refused  to 
renominate  Mayoi  Kennelly,  a\m\  chose  Daley  to 
replace  that  tall,  white-haired  picture  ol  <  i\  te 
elegance.  Dale)  fits  the  traditional  "boss"  pat- 
tern a  well-disciplined  politician  who  came  up 
through  the  machine  and  was  chosen  Chairman 
ol  the  Cook  County  Democratic  Central  Com- 
mittee because  the  Old  Guard  willed  it.  This 
stoek\  Irishman  with  little  platform  presence 
compared  unfavorabl)  with  Kennelly  on  the 
sin  lace,  but  he  had  pushed  lor  installation  ol 
more  voting  machines  when  he  was  County 
Clerk,  and  during  the  mayoralty  campaign,  he 
remarked  that  he  would  like  to  see  Cook  County 
precinct  captains  elected  rather  than  appointed. 

As  mayor,  Dale)  has  upset  some  cynical  ex- 
pectations, lie  has  chosen  able  and  honest  de- 
partment heads  and  he  has  been  running  the 
i  it \  council  as  effective!)  as  he  < ontrols  the  ward 
committeemen.  Kennell)  never  could  get  to  be 
one'  ol  the  boys.  Main  of  his  programs  were 
killed  by  the  balky  aldermen.  Daley  doesn't  have 
that  problem.  What  he  wants,  he  gets. 

In  contrast  with  some  ol  his  predecessoi s  as 
Chicago  bosses,  Daley  is  downright  frugal.  State 
inheritance  tax  examiners  found  $1,488,250  in 
unmarked  bills  in  big  bill  Thompson's  safety 
deposit  boxes.  Ed  Kelly  lei t  almost  as  much.  But 
on  his  salary  ol  $25,000,  Daley,  his  wife,  and  six 
ol  their  seven  children  occupy  a  nine-room, 
SI 5,000,  story-and-a-half  brick  bungalow  a  lew 
blocks  from  the  stockyards.  Mrs.  Daley  has  no 
in.ud  and  does  her  own  baking. 

I  lis  enemies  aie  beginning  to  think  Daley 
looks  too  good  to  be  true.  But  the  crusaders  lor 
election  reform  and  honest  government  are  puz- 
zled. Could  it  be  that  an  utterly  fantastic  poli- 
tical accident  has  raised  up  a  secret  friend  in  the 
enemy  camp?  We  are  between  elections  now  in 
Chicago,  they  say,  and  it's  hard  to  tell.  But  this 
is  just  the  time  to  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  the  big 
boss  in  City  Hall  as  well  as  the  petty  autocrats 
down  in  the  precincts. 


Harper's  Magazine,  June  795.9 


«1 


It  is  only  one  of 
many  competitive  tools 

that  help  keep 
food  prices  down 


It  is  an  axiom  of  American  business  that  for  every  new 

competitive  sales  tool  that  comes  along,  another  new  one  will  come  along 
and  try  to  surpass  it.  So  it  is  with  the  trading  stamp. 


Trading  stamps  are  only  one  of  several  competi- 
tive tools  available  to  the  merchant  seeking  to 
increase  his  business  volume.  He  may  give  a 
discount  for  cash.  He  may  cut  some  prices  and 
feature  "loss  leaders."  Or  he  may  use  prize 
contests,  giveaways  or  other  promotion  devices. 

All  these  sales  tools  have  two  things  in  com- 
mon. First,  to  be  successful,  they  must  pay  their 
own  way  by  the  creation  of  new  business  vol- 
ume. Second,  they  cause  intense  competition 
which  has  the  effect  of  helping  to  hold  prices 
down  even  during  inflationary  times.  Because 
stamps  are  given  nationwide,  marketing  experts 
connected  with  universities  have  been  able  to 
measure  this  effect  in  the  case  of  stamps. 

Food  prices  in  five  cities  where  stamps  were 
not  given  by  supermarkets  and  in  ten  cities 


where  stamps  were  given  were  compared  with 
the  U .  S.  Bureau  of  Labor  Statistics  Price  Index 
for  the  two  years  ending  in  December  1956. 
Food  prices  in  the  "stamp"  cities  rose  less  than 
the  national  average.  Price  increases  in  "non- 
stamp"  cities  were  more  than  the  average.  No 
evidence  was  found  that  stamp  stores,  as  a  class, 
charged  more  than  non-stamp  stores. 

It  seems  clear  that  in  these  inflationary  times 
the  trading  stamp  is  needed  to  work  side  by  side 
with  the  many  other  competitive  tools  also 
helping  to  keep  prices  down. 


REFERENCES :  "Status  of  Trading  Stamps  in  Food  and 
Drug  Stores."  Selling  Research,  Inc..  New  York,  1957. 

"Competition  and  Trading  Stamps  in  Retailing."  Dr. 
Eugene  R.  Beem.  School  of  Business  Administration,  Uni- 
versity of  California. 


This  message  is  one  of  a  series  presented  for  your  information  by 

THE  SPERRY  AND  HUTCHINSON  COMPANY,  114  Fifth  Avenue.  New  York  11,  New  York. 

S&H  pioneered  62  years  ago  in  the  movement  to  give  trading  stamps  to  consumers  as  a  discount  for  paying  cash. 

S&H  GREEN  STAMPS  are  currently  being  saved  by  millions  of  consumers. 


After  Hours 


THE     HARPSICHORD     WITH 
THE     FORWARD     LOOK 

Bernard  Asbell,  a  Chicagoan  who 
last  appeared  in  Harper's  as  the 
author  of  an  article  on  dist  jockeys, 
has  sent  mi-  the  following  account 
o)  what's  happening  at  the  othei 
end  o)  the  musical  spectrum. 

DETROIT,  the  home  oi  the 
swept-wing  Dodge  and  the 
Edsel,  is  also  the  home  ol  the  Ameri- 
can harpsichord  industry.  The  harp- 
sichord, as  any  music-lovei  worth 
li is  salt  very  well  knows,  has  been 
enjoying  a  revival  in  recent  years 
thanks  largely  to  the  miracles  per- 
formed on  that  instrument  by 
Wanda  Landowska  and  her  many 
pupils  and  followers,  most  notably 
Ralph  Kirkpatrick  and  Sylvia  Mar- 
lowe. But  the  motor  city  is  the  site 
of  the  modernization  of  the  ancient 
instrument  and  the  man  behind  it 
is  John  Challis. 

I  visited  him  recently  in  Detroit 
where  I  found  him  in  a  large,  red- 
brick dwelling,  old  but  indestruc- 
tibly proud,  in  a  laded  downtown 
street  called  Vernor  Highway.  On 
his  house  a  black  plaque  with  gold 
letters  quietly  announced  "John 
Challis— Harpsichords." 

Mi.  Challis  himsell  came  to  the 
door;  he  was  short,  chubby,  and 
spry,  and  wore  a  shirt  open  at  the 
collai  and  tight  corduroy  trousers. 
His  age,  according  to  Grove's  Dic- 
tionary o]  Waste  and  Musicians  is 
fifty-one,  bui  he  looks  ten  years 
younger.  He  was  immediately  oil  on 
his  subject. 

"No,  it's  nol   so  odd   thai    harpsi- 


chords should  be  made  in  Detroit. 
II  I  had  been  born  anyplace  else, 
1  probabl)  wouldn't  be  doing  this 
today. 

"There  are  two  attitudes  you  can 
take  inward  making  harpsichords. 
First,  there's  the  altitude'  thai  the 
instrument  had  been  perfected  by 
the  end  ol  the  eighteenth  century, 
when  it  also  disappeared.  Then 
there's  the  attitude— the  one  you'd 
expect  to  find  in  Detroit  — that  the 
instrument  wasn't  perfeel  at  all,  but 
needed  development  to  revive  it. 
That   was  my  altitude. 

"At  the  end  ol  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury, conceit  halls  as  we  know  them 
hard  I  \  existed.  Music  was  intended 
lo  be  played  in  a  room  about  this 
size."  His  living-room  is  about  forty 
feet  long. 

"II  the  harpsichord  were  to  be 
played  in  a  concert  hall,  then  tonally 
it  had  to  grow. 

"But  that  wasn't  all.  The  eight- 
eenth-century harpsichord  was  like 
the  Model-T  Ford,  made  lor  people 
with  lots  of  time  on  their  hands. 
Every  time  the  Model-T  owner  took 
his  en  out,  there  was  a  contest  to 
see  who'd  succeed,  the  car  or  the 
driver.  Every  driver  brought  a  tool 
kit  with  screwdrivers,  pliers,  heaven 
knows  what.  The  same  with  the 
harpsichord  player.  Each  time  he'd 
set  up  lo  play,  he  had  to  retune  the 
strings,  adjust  the  action  of  the  jacks, 
all  soils  ol  things.  The  instrument 
requires  extreme  1\  accurate  adjust- 
ment. II  the  jack  is  five-thousandths 
of  an  inch  out  ol  line,  the  string 
won't  be  plucked  properly.  Let  me 
show  you." 

From  the  living-room  we  went 
through  a  short  corridor  to  his  shop 


in  die  rear.  It  was  about  twice  the 
si/e  ol  the  living-room,  lighted  b\ 
large  windows,  and,  as  wood-work- 
ing shops  go,  remarkably  neat. 

"Now  here  are  the  jacks,"  he  said, 
leading  me  lo  one  ol  lour  or  five 
harpsichords  distributed  about  the 
floor.  The  jack  is  a  black  finger 
that  slips  up  and  down,  perpen- 
dicular lo  the-  strings  that  stretch 
horizontally  back  from  the  keyboard. 

Challis  picked  up  a  strip  of 
leather,  c  ut  off  about  an  inch-length, 
.ind  began  to  pare  down  one  end 
until  it  was  paper-thin.  He  slipped 
this  through  a  slot  in  the  jack  and 
struck  a  key.  The  jack  popped  up 
and  the  leather  plucked  a  string  in 
die  manner  ol  a  guitar  pick.  He 
removed  the  leather,  pared  it  some 
mote,  struck  the  key  again,  and  kept 
repeating  the  process  until  he  ap- 
peared satisfied.  Then  he  began  on 
the  next  jack.  It  looked  rather 
simple.  But  fitting  the  jacks  and 
paring  the  leather  picks,  or  plectra, 
Challis  told  me,  were  jobs  he  could 
not  delegate.  These  were  critical 
steps  in  separating  fine  harpsichords 
from  so-so  ones. 

"In  the  old  instruments,  ja<  ks 
were  made  of  wood.  If  they  worked 
well  in  the  winter,  they  got  stuck  in 
the  summer.  A  good  summer  jae  k 
was  too  loose  in  winter.  It  took  me 
ten  years  to  invent  a  climate-prool 
jack.  I  finally  found  it  in  one  of  the 
oldest  of  plastics,  hard  rubber.  It 
does  a  beautiful  job." 

Long  before  Challis  had  invented 
die  rubber  jack,  he  modernized  the 
frame,  the  basic  skeleton  of  the  harp- 
sichord. 

"I  have  to  make  instruments  for 
touring  concert  artists  who  change 
climates  every  day.  European  harp- 
sichord-makers still  poke  along  with 


«! 


AFTER     HOURS 

wood  that  expands  and  contracts. 
It's  impossible  to  keep  one  of  those 
instruments  in  tune.  I  ordered  an 
aluminum  casting  of  the  whole  frame 
from  a  foundry  in  Detroit,  and  sure 
enough  it  worked  very  well.  Next, 
I   needed  a  new  tuning-pin  block." 

He  fingered  the  section  just  be- 
hind the  keyboard  where  the  ends 
of  strings  curled  around  a  row  of 
pins. 

"On  pianos,  this  block  is  still  made 
of  wood.  After  a  few  years,  it  loosens 
or  splits.  I  cast  one  out  of  aluminum 
and  bakelite. 

"But  the  big  problem  was  the 
sounding  board.  This  is  the  soul  of 
the  instrument." 

Challis  pointed  out  the  slab  of 
wood  underlying  the  strings. 

"For  centuries,  instrument-makers 
have  tried  to  keep  these  from  split- 
ting, not  only  in  harpsichords,  but 
in  violins,  guitars,  every  kind  ol 
stringed  instrument.  I  knew  that  in 
the  last  quarter  oi  the  eighteenth 
century,  a  harpsichord-builder  had 
made  a  sounding  board  by  gluing 
together  sheets  of  veneer  so  their 
grains  would  cross.  But  the  glues 
weren't  waterproof  and  in  damp 
weather  the  veneers  would  loosen. 
Today  we  have  absolutely  water- 
proof glues.  So  all  we  had  to  do  was 
add  some  new  glue  to  an  old  idea. 

"This  opened  great  new  oppor- 
tunities. In  building  sounding 
boards,  we  could  forget  all  the  old 
problems  of  cracking  and  warping 
and  be  concerned  only  with  beauty 
of  tone  and  greater  resonance.  So 
I  began  a  whole  new  series  of  ex- 
periments with  thickness  and  size, 
with  the  placement  of  the  bridges 
and  the  barring  that  goes  under- 
neath. Today  we  have  a  modern, 
beautiful   instrument." 

IT  WAS  the  pianoforte  that  did 
the  harpsichord  in  during  the  eight- 
eenth century.  The  new  composers, 
led  by  Mozart,  obliterated  the  old 
instrument  when  they  began  to  com- 
pose melody  and  accompaniments 
suited  only  for  the  pianoforte. 

"In  less  than  two  centuries," 
Challis  said,  "music  has  changed 
from  a  concord  of  sweet  sounds  to 
an  exploitation  of  emotions,  then  ol 
new  emotions  that  had  no  sweetness 
at  all.  We  piled  discord  upon  dis- 
cord until  there  was  no  concord  left. 
But  now  some  people  feel  that  we've 


DOES  SCIENCE  PROVE 
THE  BIBLE  WRONG? 


Some  people  are  convinced  that  it 
does. 

They  read  in  the  Bible,  for  example, 
that  the  stars  are  fixed  in  the  "roof"  of 
the  world  like  luminous  ornaments, 
which  is  the  way  they  appeared  to  the  un- 
scientific eyes  of  the  authors  of  Genesis. 
Later  scientific  knowledge  proves  that 
the  stars  are  incandescent  bodies  moving 
in  space. 

Although  willing  to  acknowledge  that 
God  created  the  universe,  these  scienti- 
fic-minded folks  refuse  to  believe  the 
Biblical  account  in  which  apparently  it 
all  took  place  in  six  days.  Also,  they 
contend  that  the  scientific  evidences  of 
evolution  appear  to  contradict  the  Bible 
in  this  instance. 

As  far  as  Catholics  are  concerned, 
there  can  be  no  real  conflict  between 
scientific  truth  and  religious  truth.  From 
the  time  of  Moses  down  to  the  present 
day,  science  has  opened  the  doors  to 
many  of  the  earth's  physical  secrets  — in- 
cluding in  our  own  time,  the  fantastic 
secret  of  atomic  energy.  There  will  un- 
doubtedly occur,  in  the  unforseeable 
future,  even  more  revolutionary  discov- 
eries. But  the  fact  remains  that  science 
has  yet  to  produce  any  evidence  that 
discredits  the  basic  truths  of  Holy 
Scripture. 

The  Bible,  to  begin  with,  is  a  book 
of  religion— not  a  scientific  textbook. 
The  Book  of  Genesis  should  be  regarded 
therefore,  not  as  a  scientific  explanation 
of  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  but  as  an 
exposition  of  certain  divine  truths.  These 
include  such  matters  as  the  creation  of 
all  things  . . .  the  creation  of  man  as  the 
object  of  God's  special  providence  . . . 
the  unity  of  the  human  race  .  .  .  the  loss 
of  man's  original  state  of  blessedness 
through  original  sin  .  .  .  God's  promise 
and  plan  of  redemption. 


In  writing  of  these  things,  the  authors 
of  the  Old  Testament  were  divinely  pro- 
tected against  error.  God  did  not,  how- 
ever, stand  over  them  and  dictate  what 
they  wrote.  Their  writings,  therefore, 
while  recording  basic  truths,  are  clothed 
in  language  forms  common  to  their  pri- 
mitive time,  and  are  influenced  by 
cultural  and  scientific  concepts  far  less 
enlightened  than  our  own. 

A  correct  appraisal  of  the  Book  of 
Genesis,  and  the  history  of  Creation,  re- 
quires an  understanding  of  the  meanings 
which  the  Old  Testament  authors  in- 
tended to  convey,  and  an  appreciation 
of  the  language  forms,  philosophy  and 
mores  of  their  times.  An  interesting 
pamphlet  explaining  these  things,  and 
detailing  the  doctrine  of  the  age-old 
Catholic  Church  concerning  Creation, 
will  be  sent  free,  in  a  plain  wrapper,  on 
your  request.  Nobody  will  call  on  you. 
Write  today  for  Pamphlet  No.  D-48. 


IP^r 


SUPREME  COUNCIL 
KNIGHTS  OF  COLUMBUS 
RELIGIOUS  INFORMATION   BUREAU 
4422  Lindell  Blvd.,  St.  Louis  8,  Missouri 

Please     send     me     your     Free     Pamphlet    entitled: 
"God's    Story    of    Creation" 

NAME 


D-48 


ADDRESS- 


CITY_ 


_STATE_ 


SUPREME        COUNCIL 

KNIGHTS  of  coLumeus 

RELIGIOUS      INFORMATION      BUREAU 


442  2      LINDELL      BLVD 


ST.    LOUIS     8,    MISSOURI 


I 


had  enough  of  th.it  and  they're  min- 
ing full  circle  l>.uk  to  the  golden 
period." 

I  he  modern  development  ol   the 

LP  record,  too.  he  said,  has  helped 
ie\  ive  the  hat  psi<  hord.  1  he  LP  has 
changed  the  economics  ol  the  record 
industry  and  made  ii  possible  to 
market  a  greatei  variety  ol  music. 
\ln  1  the  populai  foi  ms  wire  .ill  re- 
corded, the  companies  tinned  to  re 
viving  the  old  forms.  People  who 
had  never  heard  harpsichord  musie 
in  their  lives  now  began  to  bu)  it; 
some  bei  ause  ol  its  charm  and  others 
because  it  was  something  new.  I  hal 
is.  new  because  it  was  so  old  it  had 
disappeared. 

( lhallis  s.it  down  at  the  lat  g<  i  i  »J 
two  harpsichords  standing  at  each 
end  ol  his  li\  ing-room.  I  le  played 
a  saraband  ol  Ba<  h,  then  a  I  [andel 
passacaille. 

I  he  instrument  had  been  built 
months  ago,  l>nt  Challis  doesn't  con- 
sider a  harpsichord  completed  until 
he's  finished  "playing  it  in."  This  is 
an  agreeable  kind  ol  work,  helping 
the  sii  in<4s  id  siietc  h  .iiitl  finding 
minute  adjustments  to  make  in  the 
action  of  the  jacks  and  the  plectra. 
So  when  Challis  has  a  spare  moment 
to  play,  he's  not  playing;  he's  work- 
ing. 

Challis  was  eighteen  when  he  first 
learned  about  building  eighteenth- 
century  instruments.  He  had  come 
upon  a  clavichord  owned  b\  his 
music  teacher,  Frederick  Alexander, 
at  Eastern  Michigan  College,  and 
he  dec  idecl  he  wanted  one. 

"In  those  days,  il  a  boy  wanted 
something  he  made  it.  My  father  was 
a  watchmaker,  so  precision  work  was 
nothing  strange  to  me.  There  were 
no  books  about  making  these  in- 
struments, bul  that  was  no  problem. 
II  you  wanted  to  know  how  a  thing 
was  made,   you   looked   at   it." 

Alexander's  instrument  had  been 
built  by  one  ol  the  masters  of  harpsi- 
chord-making. Arnold  Dolmetsch  of 
Haslemere,  England.  A  lew  months 
alter  he  had  built  his  own,  Challis 
went  to  Haslemere  to  learn  how  to 
learn  more  of  the  art.  From  1928  to 
1930,  be  held  the  Dolmetsch  Founda- 
tion Scholarship.  In  1 930,  he  opened 
his  own  studio  in  Ypsilanti,  Michi- 
gan, a  lew  miles  from  Detroit. 

Challis'  fust  customer  was  Alex- 
ander, who  ordered  a  harpsichord  on 
behalf  ol  Eastern  Michigan  College. 


\  I  T  E  R     HO  I   R  s 

Thus  officiall)  in  business,  Challis 
toured  Michigan  demonstrating  the 
sii ange  music .  \\  tei  ten  years, 
Challis  had  become  so  bus)  making 
harpsichords  that  he  no  longer  had 
time  to  demonstrate  them. 

\ow  ( lhallis  i  ustomers  have  to 
cool  then  fingers  on  a  waiting  list. 
I>ut  Challis  steadfastly  limits  his 
produc  lion  to  twelve  Ol  hi  teen  in 
struments  a  year,  piicccl  between 
$900  and  $5,500  each.  Should  he  ex 
pand  his  pioduc  tion.  he  would  need 
to  employ  more  than  his  presenl  stall 

ol  I  on  i  assistants.  Then  he  would 
have  to  direct  their  work  from  a 
swivel  chaii  instead  ol  adjusting 
ja<  ks  and  ple<  1 1 a  himself,  and 
Challis  doesn't  care  to  make  that 
conversion.  A  number  ol  his  past 
employees  have  set  up  shop  them- 
selves, diverting  some  ol  the  con 
sinnc  i    demand    a\u\.    ( lhallis    s.i\s, 

"    I    III  A    lc      .ill     l)lls\. 

"P<  ople  aie  in  a  c onsiant  sc  i amble, 
espe<  i.iIK  hen  in  Detroit,  to  produi  e 
more  than  will  make  them  happy.  1 
find  thai  l>\  making  twelve  or  fifteen 
instruments  a  year,  I'm  happy.  After 
all."  ( lhallis  said,  fingei  ing  a   set  ies 

ol  (holds  on  the  new  harpsichord  to 
pla\  il  in  some  moi  e,  "shouldn't  that 
be  the  purpose  ol  a  man's  work?" 


SIGNS     OF 
THE     TIMES 

AF  R  I  E  X  1) ,  the  impresario 
ol  a  television  program,  re- 
ports  that  not  long  ago  he  found 
himsell  in  Cleveland,  between  trains, 
and  thai  from  the  platform  there 
seemed  to  he  no  one  in  town  but 
himself  and  the  porter.  He  was 
settling  down  lor  the  wait  when  the 
latin  add] essed  him.  as  follows: 

"Sah,  I  wonder  il  you  could  settle 
an  argument  between  my  friend  and 
myself?" 

"(  lei  lainly,"   he  said. 

"It's  about  who  wrote  that  music 
you  start  your  program  with,"  the 
poitei  went  on.  'A  on  see,  he's  a 
taxi-drivei    but    we're   both   musical, 


and  he  s.i\s  it's  In  Wallet  Piston. 
I  tole  him  W'altei  Piston  never  wiole 
(  oiinie  i  point  like  that  in  his  life." 

'Who  do  you  think  it's  by?"  m\ 
friend  managed  to  ask. 

"1    think   it's   by   Aaron   Copland. 

Right   he-  was. 

I  was  reflecting  on  this  when  I 
gOI  in  a  taxi  lee  clltlv  one  Satlllelav 
morning    and    asked     to    go     to     the 

Columbia  Faculty  Club,  at  Morning 
side  and  1 1 7 1 1 i .  where  I  had  an  en- 
gagement lot  lunch.    The  eh  ivei  took 

this  in  silence  loi  a  while,  hut  final!} 
tinned   around   and   said: 

"How  do  people  leel  these  ela\s 
about    Alexanelei    Hamilton:-'' 

I  used  to  think  I  knew,  hut  now 
I'm  not  so  sure. 


YOUNG     OLD     TROUPER 

I\  tele\  ision  <  \  ei  \  i\a\  is  the  end 
ol  an  era.  Shows  come  and  go  so 
last,  lads  change  so  quickly,  stars 
.niel  material  ate  wot  n  out  with  such 
speed  that  ever)  da\  is  doomsday, 
and  every  tomorrow  is  a  bright  new 
dawn  We  are  told  th.it  money  lust, 
lor  example,  is  waning  (as  unlikely 
.is  that  seems)  and  that  the  high 
voltage  quiz  show  is  losing  its  powei 
to  enchant.  But  there  will  always  be 
something  else  to  take  its  place,  and 
there  will  always  be  a  lew  people  to 

preside  over  whatever  happens.  Desi 
will  always  love  Lucy  in  one  way  or 
another.  I  d  Sullivan  will  go  on  pre- 
senting his  Sunday  night  lace  with  ils 
Monday  morning  look,  and  Can\ 
Moore  will  continue  to  smile  bright 
and  quip  good  like  an  old  trouper 
should. 

One  ol  Mr.  Moore's  eras  is  about 
lo  come  to  an  end  after  eight  years, 
and  he  is  not  sorry.  Since  1950  he 
has  clone  a  morning  show  (a  hall- 
hour  Monday  through  Thursday  and 
an  hour  on  Friday)  e>l  song,  humor, 
and  miscellany  and  the  show  is  about 
to  go  oil  the  air.  He  will  continue 
lo  be  mastei  "I  <  eremonies  of  "I've 
( .ol  a  Sc  e  ret"  and  he  plans  lo  open 
a  new  show,  very  expensive,  in  the 
autumn  about  which  he  talks  only 
guardedly  lest  somebody  else  who  is 
looking  for  a  bright  new  dawn  gels 
up  earlier  than  he  does,  with  Moore's 
pants  on. 

I  talked  with  Mr.  Moore  in  his 
office  in  April,  and  if  I  learned  \ci\ 
little  about  what  his  new  show  will 
be  (except   that  he  plans  to  spend  a 


Si 


A  I     I    I    U      II  <)  II  R  S 


loi  on  writers,  ideas,  and  the  odd  and 
pteresting,  and  very  little  on  elabo 
rate  production)  I  did  learn  some- 
ping  aboul  Mi.  Moore  and  his  ideas 
;il)oin  television. 

I  te  started  Ids  theati  i<  al  career  as 
a  writer  in  Baltimore  al  the  age  of 
Bineteen.  Scoti  Fitzgerald  had  seen 
some  skils  lie  1 1 . i < I  Written  lor  ;i  local 
ffinateur  review,  and  asked   him   to 

collaborate  Willi   him  on  .in   idea   tor 
a   musical    soil    <>l    Grand    Guignol 
llial    he    hoped    would    make    Kroacl 
way. 
"All  I  knew  aboul  Fitzgerald  then 

was    thai    I'd    seen    his    name    in    die 

mturday  Evening  Post.  To  me  he 
was  just  a  (hunk  old  man  (ahoul 
forly  then),  and  ill  I'd  known  who 
he  was  I  would  have  paid  more  at- 
tention." I  lie  collaboral  ion  dis 
solved  all  ei   I  luce  nionl  lis  and  Moore 

goi  a  job  writing,  announcing,  and 
raing  ,i  in ilii  v  a<  tor  for  a  Baltimore 
radio  station,  lie  wrote  the  jokes 
and  performed  on  a  show  called 
g!High  Noon  High  Jinks"  and  from 
thai  he  graduated  in  due  course  to 

bee  ome  |  ininiv  Dittanies  partner  in 
a  venture  dial  one  week  was  called 
iihe  "Durante  Moore  Show"  and  on 
(alternate  weeks  die  "Moore  Durante 
Show." 

I  le  was  I  hirly  live  when  "  The 
Garry  Moore  Show"  firs)  appeared 
on  lelevision,  and  he  says  he  isn'l  as 
physically  spry  as  he  was  then,  and 
he  gels  tired.  Originally  the  show 
iacl  a  sponsor  lot  eac  h  quarter  ol  an 
Bur.  Then,  he  explained,  as  die 
|sl  ol   lelevision   wc ail    up,   there  gol 

o    be    more    sponsors    with    more 
ihings  they   wanted    i<>  sell,  so   thai 

now    iii    I  he  c  oinse   ol    a    week    he    ha. 

commen  ials  to  do  foi  thirty-nine 
>roc!ucls,  and  a  greal  deal  ol  his 
inie  goes  into  policing  die  coinnicr 
ials  "to  maintain  some  dignity"  and 
iiiio  rehearsing  them.  "You  can'l  re- 
member which  is  crispy  and  which 
is  crime  by,"  he  said.  I  le  yearns  lo 
lu  more  writing  lor  his  own  show 
nid  he  means  to  when  die  new  one 
•ccouies  a  reality  in  the  fall. 

Garry  Moore  is  nol  easy  lo  pin  a 
iiign  on,  and  it  you  did  you  prob 
ihly  i  ouldn'l  see  him.  I  le  is  shoi  I , 
lues  nol  always  wear  bow  lies,  and 
s  intelligent  and  It  iendly.  I  le  lives 
m  Rye,  New  York,  owns  a  forty  two- 
uoi  sloop,  has  iwo  sons,  eighteen 
mil  loin  teen,  and  reads  a  good  deal. 

lis  liuinoi    comes  easily  and   his  en 


joyment  of  people  is  nol  an  act;  ii 

is   a    genuine    lasc  illation    and    is    the 

basis  of  his  beliefs  aboul   television 

as  a  medium  ol  enlei  laiinnenl.  I  le 
believes  dial  dure  is  nothing  more 
interesting  than  a  human  lace  on  die 
sc  reen  and  you  clon'i  have  lo  pill  a 
paper  hal  on  il  lo  make  it  entertain- 
ing. Il  is  (he  five  seconds  of  puzzle 
nieitl    or   panic    on    die   face  of  some 

one  who  is  being  questioned  dial 
gives  lelevision  whal  radio  never 
had  .  .  .  die  visually  exciting  and 
humanly    revealing   pause. 


I  lis    spec  ial    gill    is    lo    establish    a 
kind  ol    rapporl    between   die   people 

on  die  show,  either  professional  01 
amateur,  and  the  audience  so  thai 
they  seem  i<>  he  enjoying  themselves, 

nol  al  eac  h  Other's  expense  (as 
GrOUcho,  loi  example,  does)  hill  he 
cause    they    are    all     in     this     unreal 

situation  together.    Ii  is  lor  this  rea 

son  thai  he  believes  dial  "I've  (.ol  a 
Sec  ret"  (which  is  in  the  lop  ten  in 
popularity)  will  go  on  and  on.  (Its 
formula,  incidentally,  is  a  panel  plus 
die  old  fashioned  variety  show  .  .  . 
personalities,    plus    oddments,    plus 

son^s    and    dances.)     Ill's    new    show 

will  he  based  on  these  same  ingredi 
c  nis  mixed  into  a  quite  different  son 
of  brew. 

The  longevity  ol  Ml.  Moon's 
career  i;i  lelevision  was  something 
he  was  glad  lo  explain  and  he  did 
il  modest  ly  hut  nol  in  sell  cleprec  al 
ing  terms.  Me  had  secai  a  good  many 
"stand  up"  comedians  come  and  go. 
"You  see  a  man  go  through  his 
routine  a  lew  limes,"  he  said  "and 
you've  had  il."  lie  went  on  to  say 
ili. ii  tied  Allen  had  once  told  him 
that  die  new  kind  of  c  oinedian  who 
would  last  on  lelevision  was  "the 
poinlei  "     i  he    actoi     who    poinls    al 

somebody   else   who   then    performs 

and  ol   whom  the  public    soon   I  ires. 

"According    to    Allen,"    he    said, 
"you   could   do   the  same   ihing   with 

a    dog    by   spreading    meal    cm    the 

ac  tor." 

Mi.  Harpei 


'ffS. 


•*H^t  I 


Athanasios  may  build  you 
a  book  case  someday 

Athanasios  bus  decided   to  become  ;i 

cabinet  maker,  lie's  only  ?),  and  al- 
ready be-  shows  great  aptitude  for  carv- 
ing bits  of  wood  info  little  animals. 

Ilul.  Athanasios  may  never  realize 
bis  ambition.  Mis  parents  looked  In  a 

bright  future;  then  Communist  bands 
began  to  terrorize  Greece  and  Alba 

n.asios'  lather  was  recalled  info  the  Na- 
tional Guard.  Hostilities  have  ceased 

but  the  couple  is  forced   to  live  in  a 

tiny  two  room  bouse  with  their  four 
children  for  whom  their  shepherd- 
father  cannot,  adequately  provide. 
Their  mother  finds  seasonal  work  al, 
.almond  harvest  lime,  bill.  Athanasios 
may  soon   be  forced    to  leave  school, 

and  go  to  work  to  supplement  the 
family's  income  unless  someone  like 
you  can  help  this  promising  boy. 

What  you  can  do  for  only  $10  a  month 
There  are  5,000  overseas  children  like 
Athanasios  who,  thanks  to  the  generosity 
ol  American  friends,  are  sponsored 
through  Save  the  Children  Federation. 
An  SCF  Sponsorship  means  food,  cloth- 
ing, cash  benefits  and  most  important  — 
hope!  A  child  like  Athanasios  can  be 
"your  child."  You  will  receive  his  story 
and  photograph  and  may  correspond 
with  the  child  and  the  family.  SCF  invites 

you  lo  licl| ' 

SCF  National  Sponsors  include:    Mrs. 

Dwight  I  >.  Eisenhower,  Herbert  Hoover, 
Henry  It.  Luce,,  Rabbi  Edgar  I1'.  Magnin, 
Norman  Rockwell,  Dr.  It.  W.  Sockman. 

Hi'Hlmmetl  wiili  V.  S.  Slum  I'rpi.  \diiliory  Com- 
mlll.ee.    <•//    Voluntar)    Faraltvi     lid. 


Mil   0.00 
SEIIVINCI   CHILDIIEN    Mill   27   YEARS 

SAVE   THE   CHILDREN 

FEDERATION 

345   East   46th   St.,   Now   York    17,   N.    Y. 

Please  semi  me  my  child's  name,  story  anil  picture 

I  wcini  i"  sponsoi  M  i  hlld  In  Korea  .  .  . 
Greoco  .  .  France:  .  .  .  Maty  .  .  ( Inland 
.  .  .  Wi-.i  I  loi  many  /'  i  is  I  rla  .  ,     01 

Hi  •  in  .'-I  Is  greatest  .  Eni  losod  1>  10  foi 
I  month  .  .  .  '|.  10  foi  1st  quarti  i  !p 1 20  foi  I 
...  ,  ii  I  cannot  bo  a  si  ionsoi  bi  it  em  losed  Is 
my  gift  of  

ii ■  


Ail- In  ss 


City  State 

Contributions   Am   Docluot llilo   From    Income   Tnx 


the  new 


BOOKS 


Rich   Man.   Poor  Man 


r  \l    L    PICKREL 


JK.  (■  A  I.  B  RAJ  I  II  is  a  Harvard  econo- 
•  mist  with  a  ba<  kground  in  economic  journal- 
ism and  .1  considerable  drive  to  sei  the  world 
straight.  What  other  economists  think  ol  him  I 
do  not  know,  though  it  is  usually  eas)  to  guess 
what  economists  think  <>l  each  other.  What  Gal- 
braith  thinks  ol  othet  economists  he  makes  abun- 
dantly clear;  even  I  had  not  supposed  thai  error, 
Tail nre  to  recognize  the  obvious, and  inhospitalit) 
to  new  ideas  were  so  universal  among  them.  Hut 
whatevei  his  standing  in  the  trade,  Galbraith  is 
one  ol  the  most  influential  ol  contemporary 
American  economists  with  the  reading  public, 
because,  unlike  mosl  ol  his  colleagues  in  the 
dismal  science,  he  has  a  gift  loi  setting  forth  his 
ideas  in  vigorous  language  thai  anyone  can 
understand,  a  keen  sense  ol  the  dramatic  that 
makes  them  seem  adventurous,  and  a  willingness 
to  put  them  in  a  context  ol  sweeping  generaliza- 
tions about  society  thai  gives  diem  a  prophetic 
urgency. 

The  Affluent  Society  (Houghton  Mifflin,  $4), 
Galbraith's  new  book,  is  essentially  an  attempt 
io  change  the  reader's  idea  ol  whal  constitutes 
an  efficient  society.  The  argument,  with  a  certain 
inevitable  simplification,  goes  something  like 
this:  the  hasis  ol  modern  economic  thought  was 
laid  in  an  era  of  scat  city,  when  there  were  just 
not  enough  things  being  produced  to  go  around. 
I  herelore  economists  have  maintained,  and  the 
public  has  gullibly  echoed  die  economists  in 
maintaining,  that  a  society  is  most  efficient  when 
I  is  making  die  most  things— or,  to  put  it  in  more 
seemly  language,  that  productivity  is  the  index 
ol   soc  ial   effic  ienc  y. 

But,  according  to  Galbraith,  this  concept  of 
social  efficiency  is  anachronistic  and  inadequate. 
We  live  in  an  economy  thai  can  not  only  turn 
out  all  the  things  we  need  but  must  spend  bil- 
lions ol  dollars  a  yeai  and  employ  some  ol  the 
cleverest  men  alive  in  order  to  soup-up  demand; 
ii  lakes  the  subtlest  wiles  ol  advertising  to  keep 
our  appetite  lor  new  things  sufficient!)  whetted 
lo  clear  the  shelves  ol  the  stupendous  mass  ol 
si  ull    we   can    produce,    and    even    then,   as    Mi. 


Secretar)  of  Agriculture  Benson  knows,  we  fall 
behind  in  oui  consumption  ol  some  pioduets. 

Besides  (still  according  to  Galbraith),  the  em- 
phasis on  making  things,  on  turning  out  the 
stuff,  has  given  us  a  lopsided  attitude  toward 
produc  lion.  We  value  the  man  who  makes  some- 
thing more  highly  than  the  man  who  merel) 
does  something.  In  an  altogether  characteristic 
homely  illustration  Galbraith  s,i\s  that  we  re- 
gard the  man  who  makes  toilet  seals  lor  a  new 
schoolhouse  as  a  true  producer,  while  we  assign 
a  doubtful  productivity  to  the  man  or  woman 
who  merel)  teaches  in  (he  schoolhouse  alter  il 
is  built.  Traditional!)  economists  have  lumped 
togethei  die  lesulis  ol  human  toil  in  the  phrase 
"goods  and  sci\iccs."  but  il  Galbraith's  leading 
of  the  public  mind  is  correct,  die  work  that  goes 
into  producing  goods  enjoys  a  prestige  that  is 
denied  the  work  thai  goes  into  producing  services. 

HERE  I  suspect  that  Galbraith  exaggerates. 
People  who  work  with  ideas  are  deepl)  attached 
to  the  notion  that  the  world  doesn't  love  them 
enough  and  are  sometimes  overingenious  in 
locating  evidence  in  support  ol  their  opinion. 
Probabl)  die  president  of  a  toilet-seai  manufac- 
turing company  would  be  accorded  more  prestige 
ill. in  mosl  classroom  teachers,  but  I  doubt  vei  \ 
much  that  the  workers  in  his  factory  would  be, 
and  I  strongly  suspee i  dial  a  man  who  occupied 
a  corresponding  position  in  the  educational 
hierarchy— say,  the  president  ol  a  university- 
would  in  most  situations  be  regarded  as  outrank- 
ing him,  although  I  conless  that  my  acquaintance 
in  toilet-seal  manufacturing  circles  is  too  limited 
to  enable  me  to  speak  with  authority. 

However  that  may  be,  Galbraith  makes  no 
suggestions  about  how  a  more  just  view  ol 
production  is  to  be  inculcated  in  the  public  ai 
large;  presumably,  like  one  ol  George  Eliot's 
characters,  they  will  just  have  to  be  born  again, 
and  bom  different.  lint  Galbraith  does  offei 
some  \er\  telling  criticisms  ol  die  consequences 
ol  oui  present  concept  of  productivity  as  the 
key  to  social  efficiency,  and  sets  forward  another 
concept  which  in  his  opinion  will  make  lib' 
better.    He  calls  ii  "social  balance,"  and  it  means 


A  work  of  religious  and  historic  importance 
even  more  absorbing  and  significant 
than  his  earlier  book 


When  the  first  of  the  Dead  Sea  Scrolls  were  discovered  in  1947,  the  world  was 
roused  to  speculation  and  controversy.  And  Dr.  Burrows'  book,  The  Dead  Sea 
Scrolls,  was  an  enormous  popular  and  scholarly  success.  Now.  Dr.  Burrows  tells  the 
dramatic  story  of  later  findings,  of  new  interpretations,  of  the  detective  work  behind 
each  carefully  reasoned  conclusion.  Will  the  evidence  of  the  scrolls  affect  the 
traditions  of  the  Christian  faith?  Were  John  the  Baptist  and  Jesus  members  of  the 
Essene  sect?  Did  Christian  doctrine  arise  primarily  from  the  teachings  of  these  men? 

"A  far  clearer  picture  emerges  of  the  religious  life  of  the  two  centuries  before  and 
after  the  birth  of  Christ  than  we  have  had  before.  .  .  .  Millar  Burrows  has  written  an 
important  book  with  a  double  edged  appeal;  first  to  the  readers  who  feel  the 
romance  of  these  great  Palestinian  discoveries  and  are  drawn  by  the  desire  to  know 
more  about  the  life  and  times  of  Christ;  second  to  scholars  and  archaeologists  who 
will  welcome  the  careful  account  of  the  latest  discoveries  by  this  professor  of  the 
Yale  Divinity  School.  Translations  of  the  fragments  by  the  author  are  included." 

—  Virginia  Kirkus  Bookshop  Service     $6.50 

MORE   LIGHT 
ON  THE   DEAD 

New  Scrolls  and  New  Interpretations 

by  MILLAR  BURROWS 


THE 


"A  splendid 
saga  of 
victory 

over  disease 

—a  documentary  which  reads 
like  a  novel— a  story  of  hope 
and  victory  and  understanding." 

—DR.  HOWARD  A.  RUSK, 

Associate  Editor,  N.  Y.  Times 
From  the  villages  of  Mexico  to 
the  Amazon  jungle,  from  the 
Andean  plateaus  to  the  wilds 
of  Africa  — here  are  exciting, 
human,  on-the-spot  stories  of 
men  and  women  battling  disease 
around  the  world.  A  vivid  and 
heartening  report  of  a  great  in- 
ternational endeavor,  the  World 
Health  Organization. 

Photographs     $5.00 

DOCTORS  TO 
THE  WORLD 

by  Murray  Morgan 


Now— a  revised 

mid-century 

gift  edition 

of  "the  best  comprehensive  an- 
thology of  British  and  American 
poetry  yet  made." 

—MARK  VAN  DOREN 

Up-dated  to  include  16  new 
contemporary  poets,  this  hand- 
some 1958  edition  of  a  basic 
collection  contains  one  and  one- 
half  times  as  many  lines  of  verse 
as  the  best  similar  anthology 
now  available.  To  give  or  to 
own— a  prized  possession! 

Two  volumes,  boxed     $12.50 

THE  VIKING 

BOOK  OF 

POETRY 

of  the  English- 
Speaking  World 

Edited  by 

Richard  Aldington 


625   Madison   Avenue,  New  York   22 


SI 


I   II  I      NEW     II  OO  k  S 


simpl)  ili. H  the  side  ol  th(  e< >m)  thai  provides 

sei  \  i(  es  i  lai  gi  l\    in  the  hands  ol  .1   loi  al  01    the 

federal  gove lent)  should   bi    enormousl)   ex 

panded,  and  the  side  "l  tin  e<  onom)  thai  pro 
vides   goods   (largely    in    private    hands)   should 

undergo  s contraction     He  points  oul   that, 

undei  om  presenl  > pi  ol  social  efficiency,  .is 

oin  consumption  ol  goods  increases  (thanks  to 
tin  pressure  ol  advertising),  we  havi  more  and 
more  wasti  to  throw  away,  bui  the  collection  ol 
waste,  being  .1  publii  service,  grows  more  and 
more  unsatisfactory.  Cars,  being  produced  b) 
private  manufacturers,  gel  biggei  and  bigger,  bul 
10. ids  and  parking  spaces,  largely  supplied  l>\ 
state  and  municipal  governments,  grow  less  and 
less  adequati 

1  he  analysis  is  in<  ontro>  ei  tible,  tin  >ugh 
whethei  il  is  .is  original  .is  Galbraith  thinks  il 
is  seems  to  be  open  to  question.    People  with  .1 

ver)  elemental  5  tr: g  in'ei  onomii  s  hav<  prob 

abl)  observed  thai  oui  streets  are  littered  and 
parking  spaces  hard  to  find,  and  onl)  the  most 
naive  can  suppose  thai  gum  wrappers  and  Fords 
are  brought  l>\  the  stork.  Practically  ever)  com 
1 1 1 1 1 1 1  i  1  \  in  America  does  need  bettei  publii 
services  bettei  schools,  bettei  streets,  bettei  po 
lui  .Hid  Iik  departments,  bettei  parks  and  pla) 
grounds,  bettei  collection  ol  waste  bui  the  prob 
Iciii  is  hou  to  gel  them, 

Galbraith  makes  .1  lew  practical  suggestions; 
he  provides,  foi  example,  an  ingenious  defense  ol 
1  In  sales  tax  .is  .1  source  ol  increased  revenue  foi 
local  governments;  bui  he  hardly  touches  the 
psychological  difficulties  thai  lie  in  the  wa)  of 
putting  his  concepi  ol  "social  balance"  in  effect. 
Win  11  ,1  111. 111  buys  .1  (.11  with  .1  six  fool  upswepl 
real  end.  .is  wasteful  economically  .is  it  is  porno- 
graphii  artistically,  he  al  leasi  knows  whal  he 
is  buying;  bul  when  he  pays  .111  exorbitanl  sales 
tax  on  .1  pa<  kage  ol  <  igarettes  he  docs  not.  That 
is  one  difficulty.  \nolhci  is  this:  though  it  is 
cas)  to  agree  thai  we  should  have  bettei  com- 
munity services  and  even  perhaps  to  agree  thai 
we  should  |i.i\  highei  taxes  foi  them  the  word 
betU  i  covers  .1  multitude  ol  problems.  Probably 
niosi  readers  ol  this  magazine  would  be  willing  to 
pa)  highei  taxes  in  order  to  have  "better" 
s.  hools,  bui  il  they  were  to  gel  togethei  to  dee  ide 
wh.ii  kind  ol  schools  would  in  l.ui  be  better,  the 
meeting  would  nol  be  totall)  amiable. 

In  shot  1.  Galbraith  is  arguing  for  an  objective 
thai  musl  be  obvious  to  anyone  who  h.is  looked 
around  him,  bin  he  is  nol  ver)  c\|>li<ii  aboul 
how  we  are  to  realize  thai  objective,  which  is 
the  hai d  pari  ol  the  problem. 

Actually,  Galbraith   sees   American  societ)    as 

having   two   layers  ol   e< mi<    doctrine,  some- 

whal  as  the  ancieni  Greeks  had  two  layers  ol 
religion  an  Olympian  religion  for  official  pur 
[loses  and  the  myster)   cults  through  which  the 

man  in  the  streel  in iled  himsell  to  existence. 

Our    Olympian    economic     doctrine    recognizes 


productivit)  as  the  kc\  to  social  well  being,  and 
official  pronouncements  on  how  "good"  a  yeai 
the  countr)  has  had  are  based  on  how  una  h  ii 
has  prodiu  id.  Bui  the  man  iii  the  sin  el  is  fai 
less  interested  in  whal  the  (.loss  National  Prod 
u<  1  foi  an)  pai  ti<  ulai  yeai  has  been  than  in 
whethei  01  nol  he  has  had  a  job.  Full  emplo) 
mi  in.  al  leasi  loi  himself,  is  his  fundamental 
economh  doctrine.'  (Il  has  .1  certain  official  si  a  1  us 
too  since  the  passage  ol  the  Employment  \c  1  ol 
MMn  i 

Galbraith's  eiiiieism  ol  lull  employmenl  as  .1 
desirable  economii  l;o.iI  is  more  telling  and  more 
unexpected  than  his  defense  ol  "social  balance," 
though  his  concepi  ol  social  balance  provides 
the  platform  from  which  he  can  uitici/r  lull 
employment.  II<  has  an  imaginative  scheme  for 
making  unemployment  compensation  variable, 
so  thai   du    payments  are  lowesi  when  emplo) 

mrnl   is  highesl   and   the  olhci    w.i\   aiound.    Now 

thai  American  societ)  is  feeling  considerabl)  less 
affluent  than  ii  was  when  Galbraith  wrote  mosi 
ol  his  hook,  liis  scciions  on  unemploymeni  and 
unemploymeni  compensation  ma)  well  turn  oul 
10  be  the  mosl   influential  pan  ol   whal   he  has 

to  sa\ 

rhe  writing  in  The  A  fluent  Soi  iety  is  Iik  id  and 
lively,  though  repetitious.  Galbraith  hasn'l  the 
happiest  taste  in  adverbs  like  mosl  social  scien- 
tists he-  uses  the  word  importantly  where  gram- 
ni. n  demands  important,  and  he  has  a  passion 
loi  the  word  anciently,  which  he  apparently  uses 
in  the  sense  "before  this  hook  was  written,"  not 
recognized  l>\  m\  dictionary.  The  hook  is  more 
stimulating  than  this  review  makes  it  sound,  be- 
cause man)  ol  the  illustrations  and  incidental 
observations  are  more  original  and  more  im- 
aginative than  the  main  argument.    It  is  a  hiisk 

pel  loi  mane  <  . 

NOT     SO     A  FF  I.  II  F  NT 

he  Long  March  (World,  $7.50)  is  an  ac- 
*  count  ol  Communist  China  written  l>\  the 
French  philosopher  and  novelist  Simone  de 
Beauvoir,  who  visited  China  al  the  invitation 
ol  ilu  government  a  couple  ol  years  ago.  It  is 
thoroughl)  sympathetic  to  the  Communist 
regime;  iii  lac  i.  I  <;et  the  impression  thai  the 
hook  is  an  attempt  (and  certainl)  a  ver)  skilllul 
one)  to  save  Communism  for  the  Western  Eu- 
ropean inlelleelu.il  after  the  disastrous  blow  to 
Ins  faith  thai  came  with  the  Hungarian  uprising. 
Mile,  de  Beauvoii  quietl)  bul  repeatedl)  makes 
the  point  that  China  is  the  countix  where  Com 
munism  has  nol  fallen  into  the  errors  thai  blotch 
its  record  in  Russia  in  China  there  has  been 
(according  to  her)  nothing  corresponding  t<>  tin 
liquidation   ol    the    Kulaks,    the    purges   ol    the 

'thirties,    the    excesses    ol    Stalinism,    die     supples 

sion  ol   Hungary.    China  is  presented  as  a  ver) 
strong   candidate   foi    the    position   ol    the   new 


The  Great  Age  of  Discovery 


By  PAUL  HERRMANN 

Author  of  Conquest  by  Man 

The  vivid  story  of  the  men,  from  Columbus  to  now,  who  opened  up 
the  undiscovered  oceans  and  continents. 

"A  fascinating  book.  The  history  of  early  exploration  is  presented 
with  all  the  drama  of  a  best-selling  novel." — Roy  Chapman  Andrews 

Lavishly  illustrated  •  $6.00 


Physics  and  Philosophy 

THE  REVOLUTION  IN  MODERN  SCIENCE 

By  WERNER  HEISENBERG 

Winner  of  the  Nobel  Prize  in  Physics 
Introduction  by  F.  S.  C.  Northrop.  "The  book  will  give  to  the  reader 
a  glimpse  of  the  great  perspectives  which  modern  physics  has  opened 
for  wide  fields  of  human  endeavour  and  for  the  understanding  of  man 
.  .  .  Heisenberg  has  startled  everybody  with  his  youthful  enthusiasm, 
his  unassuming,  seemingly  effortless  approach  to  the  most  difficult 
problems." — Richard  Courant,  Director,  Institute  of  Mathematical 
Sciences,  New  York  University.  A  volume  in  WORLD  PERSPEC- 
TIVES. $4.00 


Foreign  Policy 

THE  NEXT  PHASE 

By  THOMAS  K.  FINLETTER 

An  authoritative,  temperate,  non-partisan  analysis  of  America's 
foreign  policy  —  particularly  its  failures  in  adapting  to  today's  drasti- 
cally changing  world.  Mr.  Finletter  draws  upon  his  broad  experience 
in  foreign  policy  and  defense  to  spell  out  a  program  which  he  believes 
might  lead  us  out  of  the  present  crisis.  Published  for  the  Council 
on  Foreign  Relations.  $3.50 


HARRY  EMERSON  FOSDICK'S 

Riverside  Sermons 

Introduction  by  Henry  Pitney  Van  Dusen.  An  omnibus  edition  of  40 
of  Dr.  Fosdick's  greatest  sermons,  delivered  from  one  of  the  most 
influential  pulpits  in  the  U.  S.  A.  $3.95 

At  all  bookstores 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS 


A.  J. 
CRONIN 


The  Northern 
Light 

In  his  new  novel  A.  J.  Cronin,  one  of  the 
greatest  storytellers  of  our  time,  creates 
a  character  worthy  to  stand  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  the  doctor  of  The  Citadel 
and  the  priest  of  The  Keys  of  the  Kingdom 
—  a  newspaper  publisher  whose  integrity 
matches  his  courage.  The  Northern 
Light  tells  the  story  of  his  fight  for  his 
convictions  against  a  ruthless  plot  to 
smash'  his  pride,  disgrace  his  family  and 
destroy  his  paper.  $4.00 


Mazo 
de  la  Roche 


Centenary 
at  Jalna 

The  boisterous,  fiercely  loyal  Whiteoak 
family  that  millions  of  readers  know  and 
love  appears  again,  this  time  to  celebrate 
the  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  old 
homestead  —  Jalna.  Once  more,  with  all 
her  accustomed  skill,  Mazo  de  la  Roche 
transports  the  reader  into  the  doings  of 
this  turbulent  clan,  presenting  besides  fa- 
miliar characters  a  new  generation  of 
Whiteoaks  who  will  some  day  control  the 
destiny  of  Jalna.  $4.00 


Bruce 
Lancaster 


*Night  March 

Bruce  Catton  says:  Mr.  Lancaster  is  not 
only  a  genuinely  excellent  novelist  but  he 
has  also  won  recognition  as  a  first-rate 
historian!' Beginning  with  Dahlgren's  dar- 
ing raid  on  Richmond  and  an  escape  from 
Libby  Prison,  Night  March  relates  a 
Civil  War  romance  of  breathless  excite- 
ment that  carries  the  reader  clear  across 
the  Confederacy  in  an  odyssey  of  war. 

$4.50 

*  Atlantic  Monthly  Press  Books 
LITTLE,  BROWN    A   COMPANY 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 

home    ol     the    world's    proletariat. 

A   good   deal   of   the   book   is   of 

very  little  value.  Mlle.de  Beauvoir's 

accounts  ol  such  subjects  .is  the 
workers  and  die  peasants  go  some- 
thing like  this:  she  quotes  \.nious 
writers  on  how  horrible  the  lot  of 
the  people  was  under  previous  gov- 
ernments, then  she  cites  various 
do<  uments  ol  the  present  regime  that 
demonstrate  how  much  things  have 
improved,  and  finally  she  gives  an 
.a  (  omit  ol  how  she  visited  a  fa<  toi  j 
or  farm  and  indeed  found  everything 
fine.  She  makes  sweeping  excursions 
into  China's  past  and  speedily  sets 
the  reader  straight  on  such  subjects 
as  Confucianism,  Buddhism,  and  so 
on,  always  ending  at  the  convenient 
position  that,  however  the  present 
government  has  dealt  with  one  or 
another  aspect  of  the  Chinese  past, 
it  has  done  the  right  thing.  Some- 
times she  gets  herself  snarled  up  in 
Marxisl  jargon  to  the  point  where 
the  meaning  of  her  words  may  elude 
the  laity;  Eoi  instance,  in  speaking 
of  literature  she  writes:  "Unable  for 
the  time  being  to  transform  tech- 
niques, superstructures  are  being  re- 
sorted to  as  a  means  tor  modifying 
substructures.  Literature  hence  finds 
itself  signed  with  an  economic  coef- 
ficient." And  she  is  given  to  gen- 
eralizations so  broad  that  they 
sometimes  border  on  the  comic. 
There  are  many  fine  examples  to 
choose  horn,  but  I  think  my  favorite 
is  her  remark  that  "for  every  Chinese 
woman,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom 
of  the  social  scale,  physical  love  has 
a  negative  coefficient."  Must  there 
not  be  one  Chinese  woman  who  was 
not  interviewed  by  Mile,  de  Beau- 
voir,  and  might  she  not  think  of 
physical  love  as  just  good  clean  fun? 
The  likelihood  is  increased  by  the 
fact  that  Mile,  de  Beauvoir  speaks  no 
Chinese. 

Apart  from  the  sections  of  the 
book  that  are  nearly  valueless,  it 
has  an  aspect  that  will  appeal  only 
to  readers  of  rather  specialized  in- 
terests, lor  it  not  only  portrays  China 
but  incidentally  provides  a  sell-por- 
trait of  Mile,  de  Beauvoir— humor- 
less, bad-tempered,  incredibly  naive 
when  it  suits  her  game,  and  with  a 
hatred  of  America  as  fundamental 
to  her  outlook  on  the  world  as  the 
conviction  of  sin  was  to  earlier  puri- 
tans. Only  once  does  humor  touch 
the  500  pages  of  her  book,  in  an  ae- 


by  WILLIAM  CARLOS  WILLIAMS 
The  Autobiography  of  the   Works  of  a 
Poet,  Reported  and  Edited  by  Edith  Heal 

One  of  the  most  ex- 

»  citing  and  revealing 
books  ever  published 
in  belles-lettres.  A 
••talked"  book  by 
one  of  the  most  il- 
lustrious and  versa- 
tile writers  of  our 
time.  Informal,  do- 
tailed,  and  highly 
animated  discus- 
sions by  the  poet 
himself  on  how  each 
of  his  works  came 
to  be.  .  .  .  The 
creative  process  in 
action. 
$3.95 


32    at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 
BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm-6 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 

Send  me  postpaid: 

D  I  WANTED  TO   WRITE 

A  POEM  $3.95 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 


Street- 
City 


.State- 


Check Money  Order  No  CO.D.'s 

I......................J 

Bt  Sonic  rezd 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

An&riea*  freedom  4 


by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 


$3.95 


e/ 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


count  of  some  young  Frenchmen 
with  an  unusual  avidity  in  sociologi- 
cal research  who  discovered  that 
prostitution  is  not  so  completely  ob- 
literated in  China  as  the  government 
c  laims. 

Mile,  de  Beauvoir's  method  of 
dealing  with  other  writers  who  have 
not  found  Communist  China  the 
paradise  she  finds  it  suggests  that  the 
French  enjoy  a  reputation  for 
urbanity  in  controversy  that  is  not 
entirely  deserved;  a  typical  rejoinder 
to  an  account  different  from  her  own 
is  "That  is  a  flagrant  lie."  An  ex- 
ample of  her  convenient  naivete  is 
her  account  of  how  some  Chinese 
children  entertained  a  group  of 
writers  at  tea  and  reproached  their 
guests  for  not  writing  enough  chil- 
dren's books.  Obviously  such  an  event 
could  only  have  been  staged  by  of- 
ficial manipulation,  but  Mile,  de 
Beauvoir  reports  it  with  the  straight- 
est  of  faces.  Her  anti-Americanism 
is  everywhere— if  she  visits  a  prison 
in  Peking  she  finds  it  far  better  than 
the  prison  she  once  visited  in  Chi- 
cago; if  others  see  the  contemporary 
Chinese  as  living  in  an  anthill,  she 
tells  them  they  should  go  to  Pitts- 
burgh or  Detroit,  where  people 
really  live  in  anthills;  she  grants  that 
Chinese  Communist  leaders  are  oc- 
casionally in  the  spotlight,  but  at 
least  they  are  not  demagogues  like 
Truman  and  Eisenhower;  any  con- 
spicuously bad  example  of  Western 
architecture  in  China  is  likely  to  re- 
mind her  of  Chicago. 

Yet  for  all  this,  Mile,  de  Beauvoir 
is  in  some  ways  an  intelligent  and 
perceptive  woman.  She  does  not  care 
lor  traditional  Chinese  art,  and  she 
gives  extremely  interesting  reasons 
lor  her  dislike,  incidentally  reveal- 
ing the  extent  to  which  she  is  a 
product  oi  the  Western,  Christian, 
(as  she  would  say)  "bourgeois"  civili- 
zation that  she  scorns.  And  where 
she  has  been  able  to  look  at  things 
lor  herself  she  has  valuable  and  not 
necessarily  flattering  opinions.  She 
got  to  know  several  Chinese  writers, 
she  read  a  great  deal  of  recent  Chin- 
ese writing  in  French  and  English 
translations,  she  looked  at  paintings 
and  inspected  handicrafts,  and  what 
she  has  to  say  on  all  these  subjects 
is  well  worth  reading.  In  her  con- 
clusion she  says  that  she  feels  most 
doubtful  of  Communist  China  in  its 
artistic  life,  and  it  happens  that  that 


was  the  part  of  its  life  she  was  most 
competent  to  judge,  but  at  least  she 
judges  it. 

ACT     OF     VENGEANCE 

UNFORTUNATELY  I  read 
Theodore  H.  White's  new  novel 
about  the  United  States  Army  in 
China  in  1944— The  Mountain  Road 
(Sloane,  $3. 95)— immediately  after  I 
read  The  Long  March,  and  all  the 
time  I  was  uneasily  aware  of  what 
Mile,  de  Beauvoir  would  make  of  it. 
But  nothing  is  more  foolish  than  to 
condemn  a  book  for  the  impression 
it  will  make  on  hostile  foreign  ob- 
servers; White's  book  is  a  study  ol 
the  use  and  misuse  of  American 
jaower,  addressed  primarily  to  his 
compatriots,  and  if  it  is  cited  in 
future  editions  of  The  Long  March 
as  evidence  of  the  brutality  and 
barbarism  of  Americans  in  China  we 
will  just  have  to  bear  it  philosophi- 
cally. 

White's  main  character,  Major 
Baldwin,  is  an  engineer  from  Boston 
wdto  has  served  most  of  his  Army 
career  at  a  desk.  Suddenly  he  finds 
himself  in  command  of  a  demolition 
crew  in  Southeast  China,  charged 
with  the  task  of  destroying  whatever 
he  can  that  lies  in  the  path  of  the 
invading  Japanese  army.  He  is  a 
man  afraid  of  decision  and  respon- 
sibility; the  fact  that  his  orders  bid 
him  to  act  "at  his  discretion"  fills 
him  with  terror.  But  act  he  does, 
and  the  appetite  comes  with  eating; 
as  he  destroys  roads  and  bridges  and 
ammunition  dumps  with  success,  he 
comes  to  exult  in  the  work,  and  goes 
on  to  an  act  of  vengeance,  a  piece  of 
wanton  destruction,  when  he  burns  a 
whole  Chinese  village  of  no  military 
importance. 

The  events  of  the  novel  are  bril- 
liantly realized,  as  anyone  who 
knows  White's  work  as  a  reporter 
would  expect;  the  look  of  the  Chi- 
nese countryside,  the  pitiful  mass 
of  Chinese  fleeing  belore  the  Japa- 
nese, the  disintegration  of  Chiang's 
army— all  these  are  described  mem- 
orably. The  weakness  of  the  book 
lies  in  its  characterization:  the 
characters  are  too  obviously  allegori- 
cal. The  development  of  Major 
Baldwin's  character  arises  less  from 
internal  psychological  necessity  than 
from  the  fact  that  he  has  to  carry 
the    book's    "message."     He    stands 


AMERICA'S 
GARDEN  BOOK 


KATHERINE    GAUSS    JACKSON 

Harper's  Magazine,  says: 

"To  the  serious  beginner,  start- 
ing from  scratch,  who  is  planning 
a  vegetable  or  a  flower  garden  or 
may  be  putting  in  trees  and 
shrubs,  the  newly  revised 
AMERICA'S  GARDEN  BOOK  will  be 
guide,  philosopher,  and  much- 
needed  friend.  And  this  applies 
wherever  you  live  in  the  U.  S.  A. 
It  tells  how  to  construct  and  keep 
up  lawns,  paths,  fences,  foun- 
tains; how  to  design  and  plant 
any  kind  of  garden ;  how  to  choose 
and  take  care  of  trees,  vegetables, 
flowers,  and  house  plants ;  how  to 
control  pests  and  weeds ;  how  to 
operate  coldframes  and  green- 
houses. And  in  the  new  part  of  the 
book  there  are  sections  on  swim- 
ming pools,  flower  boxes,  'invit- 
ing the  birds,'  penthouse  gar- 
dens, plants  under  artificial  light, 
mulches,  and  lists  of  gardens  open 
to  the  public  in  forty-seven  states 
...  One  man's  obvious  will  be  an- 
other's revelation,  of  course,  but 
there's  something  in  this  book  for 
everyone." 

JOAN   LEE  FAUST 

says  in  the  New  York  Times: 

"A  familiar  garden  handbook 
comes  out  in  a  brand  new  edition 
this  month.  No  finer  volume  could 
be  welcomed  .  .  .  For  the  average 
gardener  who  seeks  a  helpful 
guide  to  lean  on,  this  book  is  the 
answer." 

$7.95  at  bookstores 

CHARLES 

SCRIBNER'S   SONS 


The  Mentally  111 
Can  Come  Back 

Yet  thousands  are  without  hope! 
..  .because  they  cannot  get 
the  treatment  they  need 
Give  them  the  chance 
you'd  want  for 
yourself! 


Give! 


^w^* 


Mental  Health 

Campaign 

A  Stimulating 

New  Book 
from  Beacon! 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 

The  first  edition  of 
Blanshard's  famous 
classic  has  stood 
like  Gibraltar  over 
the  years  against 
every  criticism.  In 
this  new  edition,  he 
provides  a  Calendar 
of  Significant 
Events,  1947-57  ; 
adds  fresh  analyses 
of  new  Supreme 
Court  decisions  ; 
hundreds  of  new 
documentary 
sources.  .  .  .  The  in- 
dispensable refer- 
ence book.  $3.95 


27    at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm-6 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid: 

□  AMERICAN  FREEDOM  AND 
CATHOLIC  POWER  1958     $3.95 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 

Street 

City State 

Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


THE     NEW      HOOKS 


simply  for  t lie  United  States,  at  first 
afraid  ol  the  responsibility  ol  inter- 
national leadership,  then  acting 
coolly  aiul  successfully  under  pres- 
sure  ol  i  in  umstances,  and  then  in 
dangei  ol  running  amuck  with  its 
new-found  strength.  The  men  sur- 
rounding Baldwin  are  equally  car- 
riers ol  i In  message  the  idealist 
destroyed  by  the  actual,  the  man  ol 
great  technical  competence  uninter- 
ested  in  anything  but  technique,  and 
so  on. 

Criticism  <>l  The  Mountain  Road 
(.in  proceed  along  two  lines.  One 
can  ask  how  accurate  it  is  as  an 
allegory  ol  the  use  and  misuse  ol 
American  power,  and  that  1  leave 
to  others  to  decide.  Or  one  can  ask 
how  successful  it  is  as  an  adventure 
sioi\  ol  American  troops  in  China. 
1  believe  that  most  leaders  will  find 
it  dec  idedly  exi  iting.  |  \  Book-of- 
the-.Month  Club  selection.) 

OF     SUFFERING 

A  I.  B  1   RIO  MO  RAVI  AS 

new  novel,  Two  Women  (Farrar, 
sii.ms  and  Cudahy,  $4.95),  is  also  set 
in  the  period  near  the  end  ol  the 
second  world  war,  but  on  the  other 
sick  ol  the  globe,  in  Italy.  Mora 
via's  chief  character,  and  the  nar- 
rator ol  the  story,  is  a  woman  who 
comes  from  mountain  peasant  stock, 
but  who  at  a  very  earl)  age  has  mar- 
lied  a  much  older  man  from  Rome, 
the  owner  of  a  small  grocer)  store, 
and  turned  into  a  thoroughly  con- 
ventional member  of  the  Roman 
petite  bourgeoisie.  Her  husband  dies 
unlamented  (there  was  no  love  and 
little  sex  in  the  marriage),  and  she 
spends  the  early  years  of  the  war 
comfortably  enough,  operating  as  a 
black-marketeer  on  a  small  scale,  ob- 
serving the  necessary  religious  rites 
but  putting  her  real  faith  in  money, 
chiefly  interested  in  providing  a 
down  and  arranging  a  suitable  mar- 
riage for  her  daughter,  a  gentle  con- 
vent-reared girl. 

As  the  fighting  comes  closer  to 
Rome  the  mother  decides  that  they 
will  be  safer  back  where  she  came 
from,  and  so  she  and  her  daughter 
leave.  The  book  presents  a  remark- 
ably vivid  picture  of  life  in  the 
mountains  of  Italy  at  the  time  and 
of  the  effect  that  life  has  on  the  two 
women  who  come  to  share  it.  For 
both  of  them  it  constitutes  a  rebirth. 


I  he  niotlii  i  realizes  that  money  is 
not  enough;  she  gets  ;i  glimpse  ol 
what  lies  "back  ol  money"'  and  what 
money  leaves  out.  The  daughter 
passes  through  a  shocking  sexual  ex- 
pel ie  nee  that  threatens  to  ruin  her 
life  but  instead  brings  hei  to  an  emo- 
tional maturity  such  .is  she  might 
otherwise  never  have  achieved. 

The  best  thing  about  the  hook  is 
tin  charactei  ol  the  woman  who  re- 
lates it.  Shrewd,  down-to-earth,  sure 
ol  hersell  \et  capable  ol  learning 
from  experience,  she  is  a  powerful 
c  i  eat  ion. 

Chiara  (Knopf,  $3.95)  is  another 
novel  set  in  Italy,  though  the  author. 
Gene  D'Olive,  is  an  American.    The 

book  is  an  account  ol  the  love  affair, 
culminating  in  marriage  and  the 
birth  ol  twins,  between  a  no-longer- 
young  American  newspaperman, 
who  tells  the  story,  and  Chiara,  a 
beautiful    Italian    girl. 

I  do  not  know  how  the  story 
would  strike  a  reader  who  had  not 
read  ./  Farewell  to  Aims:  ii  is  so 
close  to  Hemingway's  novel  in  its 
attitude  toward  experience,  in  the 
way  it  uses  language,  and  even  in 
some  ol  its  incidents,  that  1  lelt  the 
presence  ol  the  earliei  and  better 
hook  throughout.  There  are  cer- 
tainly important  differences,  and 
D'Olive  does  many  things  that  Hem- 
ingway did  not  do.  His  picture  ol 
Chiara's  family  is  fine;  the  girl  her- 
sell is  drawn  with  considerable  dis- 
cernment, and  she  is  quite  unlike 
Hemingway's  heroine.  The  sex  in 
which  the  book  abounds  is  rather 
mechanical  and  uninflammatory, 
though  the  age  of  the  reader  may 
have  something  to  do  with  his  judg- 
ment  on    thai   score. 

1  N  Journey  to  Java  (Doubleday, 
$5)  the  veteran  British  diplomat  and 
author,  Sir  Harold  Nicolson,  gives 
an  account  ol  a  trip  that  he  and 
his  wife  (V.  Sackville-West)  took  to 
the  Far  East  in  1957.  But  it  is  more 
than  a  travel  book,  because  in  plan- 
ning the  trip  Nicolson  drew  up  a 
program  of  reading  for  himself  that 
was  to  deal  with  the  causes  ol  human 
discontent,  and  he  has  as  much  to  s,i\ 
about  the  books  he  read  as  about  the 
sights  he  saw. 

Obviously  Nicolson  is  puzzled  by 
the  phenomenon  of  the  "angry 
young  men"  in  England.   He  is  past 


89 


THE     NEW     BOOKS 


seventy,  reasonably  contented,  and 
has  a  sneaking  suspicion  that  in  be- 
ing so  he  may  be  mildly  ridiculous. 
When  a  younger  man  looks  at  him 
he  sees  "a  well-led,  plump,  flabby, 
complacent  survival  from  Edwardian 
England,  who  has  been  accorded 
advantages  and  opportunities  which 
lie  has  done  nothing  to  justify  or 
deserve,"  Nicolson  writes. 

"My  curiosity  about  life,  my  senile 
zest,  must  seem  to  him  no  more  than 
a  shallow  euphory,  based  upon  in- 
sensitiveness  to  the  fears  of  this 
hydrogenic  age,  indifference  to  the 
wickedness  and  cruetty  of  the  world 
around  me,  and  a  lack  of  any  even 
rudimentary  sense  of  originaf  sin. . . . 
I  am  aware  that  many  of  my  younger 
friends  ...  regard  contentment  as 
bourgeois  or  even  vulgar.  To  them 
it  suggests  a  trivial  view  on  life."  He 
remembers  too  an  older  friend's  (T. 
S.  Eiiot's)  line  about  "Those  who  sit 
in  the  sty  of  contentment,"  and  re- 
minds himself  that  he  ought  to  be 
more  unhappy  than  he  is. 

So  he  reads  and  reports  on  all 
kinds  of  writers,  both  happy  and  un- 
happy, from  Galen  and  Lucretius  to 
Miss  Rachel  Carson  and  Colin  Wil- 
son. The  conclusions  he  reaches 
about  what  makes  people  soreheads 
or  contented  are  not  earth-shaking; 
the  pleasure  of  the  undertaking,  like 
that  of  the  trip,  lies  more  in  the 
quest  than  in  the  destination. 

Journey  to  Java  is  a  civilized 
book,  witty,  urbane,  self-deprecatory, 
ironic.  The  style  is  elegant  without 
being  in  the  least  precious,  and  the 
obvious  fact  is  that  Nicolson  gets  so 
much  pleasure  out  of  life  because  he 
finds  life  so  intensely  interesting. 
The  only  people  he  really  dislikes 
are  people  who  are  bored  and  indif- 
ferent, who  do  not  care.  The  people 
who  appeaf  to  him  most  strongly  are 
people  who  "notice  .  .  .  things,"  peo- 
ple who,  like  himself,  are  carrying 
on  a  lively  traffic  with  the  world 
around  them. 

THE     AMERICAN     SCENE 

A  L  T  H  O  U  G  H  it  is  a  far  cry  from 
a  man  as  efegant  as  Sir  Harold  Nicol- 
son to  the  New  York  dress  manufac- 
turer (the  "Dior  of  the  masses")  who 
is  the  chief  character  in  Elick  Moll's 
novel  Seidman  and  Son  (Putnam, 
$3.95),  the  two  men  have  in  common 
a  tremendous  appetite  for  life.   The 


story  told  in  Seidman  and  Son  is 
fairiy  conventional;  it  relates  how 
young  Seidman  comes  home  from  the 
Korean  War  fufl  of  half-baked  ideas 
of  reform  that  embarrass  and  in- 
furiate his  father,  and  then,  through 
various  experiences,  comes  to  accept 
his  father's  benevolent  capitalism 
and  even  goes  into  business  with  him. 
But  the  book  is  not  conventional 
because  Mr.  Seidman  himself  is  a 
powerful  and  splendid  character.  He 
speaks  a  wonderful  kind  of  New 
York-Jewish  English,  vivid,  colorful, 
and  eminently  expressive;  and  he 
is  a  really  passionate  man,  a  man 
with  genuinely  powerful  feelings 
which  he  is  able  to  communicate. 
His  warmth  and  humanity  and  tire- 
less vitality  give  a  rush  and  energy 
to  the  story  that  could  carry  it  even 
if  the  plot  had  twice  as  many  creaks 
in  it.    (Book-of-the-Month  Club.) 

NANCY  HALE'S  reminiscences 
of  her  younger  days  in  Boston,  col- 
lected under  the  title  A  New  Eng- 
land Girlhood  (Little,  Brown,  $3.75), 
is  a  book  that  has  strayed  into  the 
wrong  stack;  my  colleague  Mrs.  Jack- 
son undoubtedly  could  have  dealt 
with  it  more  judiciously  than  I  can. 
Miss  Hale's  sketches  of  the  days 
when  her  idea  of  a  really  fascinating 
older  man  was  a  Harvard  freshman 
are  slight  and  graceful  and  moder- 
atefy  entertaining  even  to  me,  but 
I  have  some  difficulty  in  entering 
fully  into  the  spirit  of  this  world  of 
cr'epe-de-chine  teddies,  pink  taffeta 
party-dresses,  and  endless  sub-debu- 
tante giggling. 

Some  of  the  pieces  in  A  New  Eng- 
land Girlhood  are  in  effect  essays, 
in  which  Miss  Hale  puts  together  a 
series  of  incidents  that  make  a  neat 
ironic  point.  They  give  a  weicome 
astringent  taste  to  a  volume  that 
otherwise  seems  about  to  perish  of 
a  surfeit  of  Turkish  delight. 

Parktilden  Village  (Beacon,  $3.50) 
is  a  first  novel  by  George  P.  Elliott, 
a  writer  who  has  already  made  a 
considerable  reputation  as  a  poet 
and  critic.  The  story  is  set  in  a  vast 
apartment-development  near  a  big 
university  in  California,  probably 
Berkeley,  and  the  main  character  is 
a  young  sociologist  who  has  recently 
joined  the  faculty.  Earlier,  as  an 
undergraduate  in  another  univer- 
sity, he  had  done  some  baby-sitting 


% 


he  inspiring  story 

of  the  talented  men 

who  for  almost 

two  centuries 

have  clone  so  much 

to  produce 


The  Great 


The  Story  of  the 

Encyclopaedia 
Britannica 


by  Herman  Kogan 

For  almost  two  centuries  the  Encyclo- 
paedia Britannica  has  stood  forth  as  a 
monument  of  intellectual  enterprise. 
What  kind  of  men  inspired  it?  Who 
has  been  responsible  for  its  remarkable 
growth  and  development?  Why  has  the 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica  always  been 
considered  the  most  reliable  and  com- 
plete source  of  knowledge — the  most 
dependable  reference  work  ever  com- 
piled? Herman  Kogan,  distinguished 
journalist  and  biographer,  tells  us  in 
this  fascinating  story.  In  dramatic  detail 
Mr.  Kogan  shows  how  each  of  the  three 
major  periods  of  development  in  the  life 
of  the  Great  E  B  was  dominated  by  dedi- 
cated and  dynamic  personalities:  "The 
Beginnings"  in  1768  and  the  "Three 
Men  of  Edinburgh" ;  the  "Era  of  Horace 
Hooper",  the  flamboyant  advertising 
genius  who  boomed  the  sale  in  England 
through  "a  guinea  down  and  a  guinea  a 
month";  the  "Modern  Period"  which 
portrays  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica's 
present  enviable  position  as  a  world- 
wide educational  institution. 


464  pages.  $4.95 
at  all  bookstores. 


UNIVERSITY    OF         Chicago 
CHICAGO    PRESS         Illinois 


Tennessee  v.  John  Thomas  Scopes 
by  RAY  GINGER 


The    first    full  story 
of  the  famou 
key   Trial."   The 
Broadway    hit    In- 
h i  r i t     the     i 
touched  on  the  trial 
scenes  .   .   .   Darrow 
and    others    have 
written     partial     ac- 
counts .  .  .  No 
can    read    the    com- 

lory    of    the 
trial    that    left    the 

!  world  gasp- 
ing with  incredulity. 
$3.95 


36    <it   your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm-6 

25  BEACON  ST..  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid; 
Q  SIX  DAYS  OR 

FOREVER?  S3.95 

n  Your  new  catalog 

Name 


Street. 
City — 


.State- 


Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s    I 

C. .......... .-.....-.-.! 

The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

America*  treedoM  i 


by  PAUL  BLANSHARD 


$3.95 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

A-YOGI 


by  Paramhansa  Yogananda 


The  Inspiring  Story  of 
A  Man  Who  Found  God 

"I  am  grateful  to  you  for  granting 
me  some  insight  into  this  fascinating 
world."  Thomas  Mann, 

Nobel  prizeman 


At  All 
Bookstores 

$4.00 


Self-Realization 
Fellowship,  Dept.  AH-6 
Los  Angeles  65,  Calif. 


BOOKS      IN      li  R  I  E  F 


OUT-OF-PRINT  ■&.H,fffD-  BOOKS 


Also     Genealogies     and 

Incomplete     sets     com. 

jmbers     suppl  ied.       Send 

obligation.      We     report 


All  subjects,  all  languages 
Family  and  Town  Histories 
plcted.  AM  magazine  back 
us  your  list  of  wants.  N 
quickly    at     lowest    prices. 

(We   also   supply    "ll   current   books    at   retail   *i<"? 
prit  r^  — Postpaid,  as   well  as  all  books   reviewed,  ad- 
,  d  or  listed  in  this  issue  of  Harper's  Magazine.) 
AMERICAN    LIBRARY   SERVICE 

117    West    48th    Street,    Dept.    H,    New    York    36.    N.    Y. 
N.B.     We  also  BUY  booti     a:    I   magazines. 


WRITING' 


Before  you  consider  any  course  in  writ- 
ing-Compare! NYS  offers  complete  training 
in  fiction,  non-fiction.  TV;  placement  of 
saleable  scripts.  Write  for  Information  and 
sample  material. 

The  New  York  School  of  Writing, 
Dept.   341,   2   E.   45th   St.,   N     Y.    17,   N.   Y. 


foi  .1  mathemati<  ian  and  de\  eloped 
,i  considerable  crush  on  his  wife. 
Now  he  finds  the  mathematic  ian  and 
his  wife  in  California,  and  discovers 
that  he  is  still  susceptible  to  the 
wife's  charms.  Bui  meanwhile  the 
l).ili\  with  whom  he  once  sal  has 
grown  up  in  be  a  very  attractive  girl, 
..ml  soon  two  crushes  are  growing 
where  one  grew  before.  The  ladies, 
old  and  young,  respond  to  his  ad- 
vances, .iiul  he  ends  up  l>\  finding 
himsell  deepl)  and  messily  involved 
with  ;i  couple  ol  women  who  do  not 
take  as  light  a  view  <>l  sexual  esca- 
pades as  he  does. 

I  he  writing  in  Parktilden  Village 
is  t  lean  and  li\el\ ;  the  Story  moves 
along  nicely;  and  the  characters, 
with  one  exception,  are  well  drawn. 
The  exception  is  the  young  sociolo- 
gist -which  is  unfortunate,  because 
he  has  the  job  ol  making  the  point 
ol  the  book.  What  Elliott  is  saying 
in  the  sion  is  that  human  life  does 
not  have  merely  a  quantitative,  mea- 
surable dimension,  stub  as  the 
sociologist  records,  but  that  it  also 
has  a  moral  dimension;  it  contains 
the  possibility  ol  evil,  as  the  young 
man  discovers  too  late.  But  the 
young  man  does  not  seem  to  be  much 
oJ  a  sociologist  or  much  attached  to 
a  sociological  interpretation  ol  ex- 
perience; he  is  simply  a  sexual  op- 
port  llllist. 


BOOKS 


in  brief 


KATHERINE  GAUSS  JACKSON 


FICTION 

A  Plate  Without  Twilight,  by  Peter 
S.  Feibleman. 

In  oin  list  ol  the  spring's  first 
novels  this  should  perhaps  lead  all 
the  rest.  Ii  is  a  haunting  and  beauti- 
ful book  ol  an  extraordinary  in- 
tensity. The  author,  a  young  white 
man,  tells  this  story  of  a  Negro 
family  and  especially  ol  a  young 
Negro  girl  through  her  as  narrator, 
and  from  the  first  page  to  the  hist  it 
seems  to  me  there  is  not  a  single 
false  note.  And  though  the  story  is 
about  very  poor  Negroes  in  a  very 
poor  part  ol  New  Orleans— that  land 
where  all    is  either  black  or  while  - 


and  though  Magic  things  happen! 
lilts  is  no  novel  about  "c  onditions.'i 
h  is  about  real  people-,  the  weal 
ones  who  can't  find  then  way  t(| 
strength  and  dignity  and  the  siron(| 
ones  who  can,  through  the  greal 
weapons  ol  compassion  and  lorgivc 
ness  .ind  humor.  It  is  .1  very  power) 
I  ul  sioi\  and  often  a  very  amtisinj 
one,  told  in  a  kind  ol  natural  poetr. 
that  lings  in  (he  mind  even  who 
the    hook    has    been    put    aside. 

World,  S4.7| 

Splendid     in     Ashes,     by     Josephin 
Pinckney . 

\    novel    which    begins    and    endj 
with    the   funeral   ol    its   hero   muJ 
necessarily  be  told  largely   in  throv 
hacks.    We  nit  e  t    most   ol    its  eliarac 
ters   In  si    as   elderly   or   middle-age 
people,   nearly  all   of   them  Charle 
tonians  to  the-  tore,  and  dining  tli 
course  ol  the  book  we  discover  ho1 
they  gol   to  be  the  way   they  are.   I 
the   lives   ol    each   of   them   it   is   tlv1 
dead  man.  ihe  flamboyant,  dvnami 
iin-Chai  lestonian       John       August! 
(.1  iinshawe.  gambler  with   both  li  I 
and  money,  who  in  one  way  or  aij 
oilier  has  shaped  their  destinies. 
is  a   sound  story   ol  social  complex 
lies    in    a    town    and    a    eivili/alio 
whose-  changes  have  been  many  du 
ing    die-    thirty-five    years    the    nov 
encompasses,   but   whose   people  ai: 
still  as  absorbed  by  each  other's  d\ 
ings    as    they    were    when    it    was 
slow-moving    society    ol    plantatiol 
owners.     I  he-  e  har'at  tei   ol    the  ma 
eiiek      Augustus      dominates      an 
fascinates   them   all    as    ii    dominat 
the"    novel,    and    the    question    "wl 
gels    the  money  and   the  house  ar 
why"  keeps  the  story  lull  ol  suspen 
in  spin-  ol   what  sometimes  seems 
stumbling  method  of  narration.  Tl| 
characters    in    this,    Miss    Pinckney 
regrettably  last  novel,  are  among  h 
best.  Viking.  S" 

A  Summer  Plate,  by  Sloan  Wilso 
The  "summer  plate''  is  an  islar 
oil  the  toast  ol  Maine  where  tl' 
same  families  have  gone  for  sevci 
generations.  And  whether  Mr.  W 
son  intended  the  analogy,  his  book 
also  about  the  island  ol  the  self  wi 
which  each  ol  his  characters  has 
come  to  terms  before  he  can  ha 
any  sort  of  peace  or  take  his  pla, 
in  the  world.  Yet  the  question 
whether  or  not  the  children  can  <i 


91 


BOOKS     IN     BR  I  EF 


cape  the  sins  of  their  lathers— and 
mothers— ("no  man  is  an  island")  is 
also  so  dominant  a  theme  that  the 
whole  is  a  thought-provoking  coun- 
terpoint of  Freud  and  Donne.  The 
author  of  The  Man  in  the  Gray 
Flannel  Suit  has  written  another 
contemporary  novel  of  family  rela- 
tionships and  the  difficulty  of  com- 
municating between  generations. 
The  Maine  background  is  vivid  and 
real  and  becomes  any  family's  "sum- 
mer place";  the  young  romance  is 
touching  although  the  lack  of  articu- 
lateness  between  the  boy  and  girl  (I 
accept  their  lack  of  communication 
with  the  older  generation)  is  hard 
to  believe.  But  the  middle-aged 
divorces  and  partner-switching  never 
seem  convincing.  They  seem  more 
a  matter  of  plot  than  of  character, 
there  is  no  humor  and  too  much  in- 
tensity in  all  their  posturings,  and 
I  found  it  hard  to  care  about  them. 
But  the  intent  is  serious,  the  nar- 
rative lively,  and  every  parent  of 
teen-agers  will  find  something  to 
recognize;  to  applaud  or  decry. 

Simon  &  Schuster,  $4.50 

NON-FICTION 

Owen  Wister  Out  West:  His  Jour- 
nals and  Letters,  edited  by  Fanny 
Kemble  Wister. 

When  Owen  Wister,  wealthy  and 
well-born  Philadelphian,  was  twenty- 
five  years  old  he  was  sent  West  for 
his  health.  This  was  in  1885  and  be- 
tween that  year  and  1900  he  was  to 
go  many  times  again.  This  book  is 
made  up  of  selections  from  the 
fifteen  journals  he  kept  on  these  trips 
(some  of  them  sponsored  by  Harper's 
Magazine),  edited  and  arranged  by 
his  daughter.  Some  of  his  letters 
home  have  also  been  included.  It  is 
from  these  writings,  sometimes  word 
for  word,  that  the  background  for 
The  Virginian  was  to  come.  As  the 
editor  says:  "He  ranged  through  the 
North  and  Southwest,  from  Oregon 
to  Texas;  but  he  loved  Wyoming 
best  of  all,  and  The  Virginian  is  set 
in  Wyoming."  The  journals  are  full 
of  Indian  and  hunting  lore  and  his 
intense  love  for  the  West  and  its 
way  of  life.  It  is  easy  to  see  why 
niter  reading  The  Virginian  the 
whole  country  took  to  glorifying 
cowboys  and  the  states  they  came 
from  when  one  reads  such  passages 
from  his  journals  as:   "Nobody,  no- 


body who  lives  on  the  Atlantic  strip, 
has  a  notion  of  what  sunrise  and 
sunset  and  moonlight  can  be  in 
their  native  land  till  they  have  come 
here  to  see.  One  goes  back  to  'The 
light  that  never  was  on  land  or  sea.' 
If  he  had  been  here,  he  would  have 
put  a  footnote  and  said  'except  in 
Wyoming,  U.S.A.'  "  Chicago,  $5 

Willie  Mae,  by  Elizabeth  Kytle. 

This  is  called  by  the  publishers 
"the  first  genuine  account  of  a  Negro 
servant's  life  we  know  of."  It  is  told 
in  the  first  person,  as  if  in  her  own 
words,  and  tells  of  her  childhood  in 
Gruber's  Grove,  Georgia;  of  the 
death  of  her  dearly  loved  parents 
and  the  changes  it  brought  to  the 
lives  of  the  children;  her  first  jobs; 
her  marriage;  the  birth  of  her  chil- 
dren; and  through  it  all  the  attitudes 
of  the  white  people,  both  good  and 
bad,  come  through  in  unadorned 
simplicity.  Perhaps  because  the  lives 
of  Negro  servants  have  been  done 
so  well  and  so  often  in  fiction  (as  in 
A  Place  Without  Twilight  which 
still  echoes  in  the  mind)  or  perhaps 
it  is  the  knowledge  that  this  is  "as 
told  to"— one  can't  help  wondering 
whether  the  colloquial  language  and 
attitudes  are  exactly  those  in  which 
Willie  Mae  would  like  herself  to  be 
seen  and  heard.  But  it  is  all  a  labor 
of  love,  revealing  much,  and  a  por- 
trait worthy  of  respect. 

Knopf,  $3.50 

Margaret,  by  James  Davidson  Ross. 
There  have  been  so  many  books 
now  about  the  final  months  in  the 
lives  of  people  dying  from  incurable 
diseases  that  one  would  think  there 
was  nothing  left  to  say.  Yet  the  truth 
seems  to  remain  that  for  each  person 
there  is  one  death  and  there  is  no 
denying  its  absolute  importance  to 
them.  I  picked  this  book  up  almost 
impatiently— and  remained  to  read 
it  to  the  end  while  the  office  closed 
for  the  day  around  me.  It  is  the  story 
of  a  girl  of  fifteen  dying  of  cancer, 
in  the  full  knowledge  of  what  is 
happening  to  her.  It  is  also  a  story 
(if  extraordinary  family  relationships 
and  a  religious  faith  that  passes  all 
understanding.  It  is  a  rewarding  book 
and  an  unusual  one  in  any  terms. 

Dutton,  $3 

As  everyone  knows,  there  are  two 
current  musical  shows  in  New  York 


From  Beacon 

By  CYNTHIA  ANN  VAUTIER  $3.50 

'         Here  is  a  thoroughly  seasoned, 

*  mature  satire  on  the  society  in 

->  which  "youth"  is  a  cult— youth 

W*%  of  any  age  at  all.   No  self-re- 

*  specting  man  or  woman  grows 

**  old   here,   and   the  citizens  are 

v>  very    self-conscious    about    it. 

Can  this  be  heaven? 

:  -JtittkHlden !////*& 

by  GEORGE  P.  ELLIOTT     $3.50 

A  young  Ph.D.  in  sociology 
accepts  a  teaching  post  in 
Berkeley  and  undertakes  origi- 
nal research  into  the  "anthro- 
pology" of  the  hot-rod  crowd 
as  a  modern  sociological  phe- 
nomenon. Fast   Action. 


By  DANIEL  CURLEY       $3.50 


This  is  the  story 
man's  search  for 
swer  to  a  simple 
with  it  a  way  of 
be  worth  dedicati 
to  achieving.  A  sin 
trating  first  novel 
of  That  Marriage 
crustes,   and   Other 


of  a  sensitive 
a    simple    an- 
question    and 
life   that   will 
ng    a    lifetime 
cere  and  pene- 
by  the  author 
Bed    of    Pro- 
Stories. 


By  DANIEL  D.  NERN  $3.95 

This  is  a  powerful  and  gripping 
story  —  and  an  angry  one,  full  of 
violence.  It  is  a  turbulent  and 
almost  photographic  picture  of 
race  relations  in  Atlanta  and 
Detroit  in  recent  tense  days,  writ- 
ten by  a  white  man,  from  the 
point    of    view    of    a    Negro     family. 

By  SYLVIA  PRESS  $3.50 

Senator  Cochrane's  investiga- 
tions of  "subversives"  were  mak- 
ing headlines  daily  when  Ellen 
Simon,  a  trusted  security  worker 
for  12  years,  was  suddenly  named 
for  questioning.  For  7  weeks  she 
was  badgered,  accused,  cross- 
questioned.  She  came  up  fighting. 

\.+«!Sl&PoFH*Jl}ST 

By  MOULOUD  MAMMERI  $3.50 
An  Algerian  Arab  takes  the 
reader  behind  the  headlines  in 
North  Africa  and  shows  the 
human  face  of  the  uproar  there. 
"...  A  deeply  disturbing  novel 
that  shows  Mammeri  to  be  a 
writer  of  talent  and  integrity." 
.  .  .  Times  Literary  Supplement 

T&lbreMe</Bt/% 

*  By  ROBERT  COLBORN  $3.50 
Man  the  atom-smasher  can  send 
new  satellites  into  the  skies 
among  the  wandering  stars — 
but  he  cannot  control  the  ran- 
corous beast  that  lives  in  his 
own  viscera  .  .  .  this  is  the 
story  of  a  government  scientist 
who  tries  to  do  both.  Don't 
miss  this! 


42   at  your  bookstore  or  write  to 

BEACON  PRESS  ^dept.  hm- 

25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid: 

□  (name   of   book) 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 

Street 

City 


.State- 


Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


92 


For  Children  5  to  8 

chsrry //me. 

by  ALBERTA  ARMER 

Glorious  pictures  to 
entice  a  child  .  .  . 
and  a  heart-warming 
story  o£  settlement- 
house  youngsters 
who  learn  that 
beauty  can  be  found 
in  the  mqst  unlikely 
places.  ...  A  book 
to  help  one  grow 
in  understanding  — 
for  children  who 
can  afford  to  buy 
books,  about  chil- 
dren who  cannot. 

$2.75 

Tonsils  coming  out? 

by  ELLEN  PAULLIN 

Photographs  b>  Roger  Russell 
New  and  Enlarged  edition 
This  realistic  little  book  about  the  great 
adventure    of    going    to    the    hospital    to 
have  your  tonsils  out  has  just  one  pur- 
pose:   to   take    away    the    terror    of    the 
experience   for  those  who  must   face  it. 
Cited  in  Child  Behavior   (Ilg  and  Ames) 
as    one    of    the    "best    of    all"    possible 
books    to   prepare   the   child   emotionally 
for  the  experience.  $2.00 

.................... ._ ., 

I    30    at  your  bookstore  or  write  to  I 

BEACON  PRESS  dept.  hm  6 

I  25  BEACON  ST.,  BOSTON.  MASS.  j 

I  Send  me  postpaid:  I 

■  □  CHERRY  HOUSE                   $2.75  I 

[  D  NO   MORE   TONSILS             $2.00  ■ 

J  □  Your  new  catalog 

I     Name I 


Street- 
City 


-State- 


.Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


THE   OLDEST   WRITERS'   SERVICE 

Literarv     Agent,     established      I"      rears       Mi 
criticized,    revised,    typed,    marketed.    Special    attention   to 
Book   manuscripts.    Poetry.   Catalogue  on   reauesl 

Agnes    M.    Reeve. 
Dent.    B.  Franklin.   0. 


MHEIST   BOOKS 

12  pagi  cataloi  ue  free. 
'1  111  ',"M  SEEKEB  CO       38  Park  How,  Ne«  Vork  8    N    Y 


OUT-OF-PRINT    BOOKS 

—AT  LOWEST  PRICES! 
You  name  it— we  And  ii :  Fasl  service.  No  obligation. 
s<rti<l   ii-   your  wants 

INTERNATIONAL    BOOKFINDERS 
Box   3003-H.  Beverly    Hills,    Calif 


MANLIUS 

r led   Is'''1    I ■""'   boys    Accredited    Grades  7-1:;.  Com- 
plete college  prepan n    ROTC    Highest  U.S    Army  rating 

for  ovei  ".n  it-    l-2fi-acre  campus.  Remedial  reading    Sports, 
Band    Summer  Session.   Tutorial  assistance    Catalog. 
Robert    D.    Weekes.    The    Manlius   School.    Manlius,    N.    Y. 


\\   lirtllr, 

you  an-  changing   J 

,'ir  address 

Eo 

-  a 

months 

.i    permanently, 

M.l 

will   want 

to 

in. 

;ve 

even  iss 

ue  Hi  Harper's  i 

romptly.  \\  hen  . 

,lv 

sing 

us 

nt  a  i  liange  of  address  o 

easi 

indicate  b, 

//, 

the 

.Id 

and  new 

address.  Please 

alio 

v  six  weeks 

for 

eff. 

ct- 

ing  this 

i  hange. 

HARPER'S 

MAGAZINE 

49  East 

33rd  St. 

New  York 

16 

N 

Y 

MUSIC   INN-in  the   Berkshires   .   .   . 
Nexl  in  Tanglewood  and  the  Boston  Symphony.  Adiacenl   to 
Mu  ii    Barn  and  the  Summer-long  Polk  and  .laz/.  Festival 

Former  estate  of  a  C itess  converted  to  a  comfortable  Inn. 

Tennis     swimming,   boating,   bicycling.    For  Tanglewood  oi 
Jazz    Schedules,    for    booklets,    write 

Stenhanie   Barber.    Lenox    I,    Mass. 


HOOKS     IN     BRIEF 


which  no  one  musi  miss  -and  tlicv 
couldn't  be  more  differenl  from  ea<  Ii 
other.  To  anyone  who  has  loved 
them  both,  as  1  have,  as  performed 
on  the  stage,  it  will  be  almosl  a  sur- 
prise to  learn  that  each  lias  a  "book" 
as  apart  from  the  music.  Each  ol 
them  is  now  available  without  the 
sound  track. 

The  Musi<  Man.  Book,  l\rits,  and 
music  b\  Meredith  Willson. 

The  Drama  Critics  Circle  has 
given  iliis  iis  award  loi  the  Besl 
Musical  1957-58.  It  is  the  storj  ol  .1 
charming  charlatan  who  (onus  to  a 
small  Midwestern  town  called  Rivei 
City,  Iowa,  round  about  I!) 1 2  and 
in  the  course  ol  his  shenanigans 
nuns  the  whole  town  into  a  sing 
ing,  chine  ing.  happy  communit) 
and  ol  course  lalls  in  love  in  the 
process.  The  hook  has  no  pictures 
but  the  story  is  there  Eoi  all  to  read 
—hue,  predictable  Americana,  and 
apparently  suitable  for  everyone's 
nostalgia.  Putnam,  $2.95 

West  Side  Story.    Book   by   Arthur 

Laments,  music  by  Leonard  Bern- 
stein, l\ii<s  l>\  Stephen  Sondheim, 
directed  and  choreographed  by 
ferome  Robbins. 

Because  I  have  found  the  perform- 
ance of  this  very  modern  story  of 
two  West  Side  gangs  and  its  Romeo 
and  Juliet  love  theme  such  a  beauti 
fully  integrated  production,  with 
music,  dancing,  and  story  all  so 
much  a  part  of  the  final  effect,  it  is 
difficult  for  me  to  read  it  just  as 
a  story  by  itself,  and  make  any  judg- 
ment on  how  it  would  affect  some- 
one who  hadn't  been  exposed  to  the 
whole.  I  enjoyed  the  book  for  what 
ii  hi  ought  to  mind— and  there  are 
two  pictures  to  give  some  notion  ol 
the  extreme  youth  of  the  cast— one 
of  the  added  reasons  for  its  gnat 
i  harm  and  pathos. 

Random  House,   $2.95 

FORECAST 

Book  Club  Summer  Choices 

For  July  the  Book-of-the-Month 
Club  has  chosen  The  Enemy  Camp 
(Random  House)  by  Jerome  Weid- 
man,  who  wrote  /  Can  Get  It  for 
You  Wholesale  some  twenty  years 
ago.  The  new  book  is  described  as 
"a  novel  ranging  in  scene  Irom  the 
squalor  of  Manhattan's  Lower  East 


Side  10  the  quiet  elegance  ol  stih- 
ui  I),  in  Connecticut.'  F01  Midsum- 
mer the  Club  has  chosen  The  Kirm 
Musi  Die,  an  historical  novel  set  in 
anc  ieni  ( -reei  e  and  Crete,  b\  Man 
Renault.  Pantheon  will  be  the  pub- 
lisher.  l-oi  some  time  in  the  lall 
the  judges  have  set  aside  as  a  selel 
lion.  Aku-Aku,  a  new  stoi\  e>l  die 
South  Sea  Islands.  I>\  the  aulhoi  ol 
the  bullous  Kon-Tiki,  Thor  Hcwr- 
dahl.  Its  publishers-to-be,  Rand  Ma 
Nally,  s.u  tb, u  it  is  even  bettei  thai 
its  predecessoi  and  that  it  has  al- 
lcadv  made  the  best  seller  lists  in 
five  e ountries  abroad.  .  .  . 

Macmillan  announces  that  the 
Literals  Guild  has  chosen  Ann 
Bridge's  new  novel,  The  PortugueM 
Escape  as  a  summei  selection,  prob- 
ably August.  And  Shirley  Barker's 
Swear  by  Apollo  (Random  House) 
and  the  first  Hornblower  novel  in 
five  years,  Admiral  Hornblower  in 
the  West  Indies  (Little.  Brown),  by 
C.  S.  Forester,  will  be  dual  Literary 
Guild  selections  lor  September. 

Good  Tilings  in  Twos 

This  seems  to  be  a  moment  when 
publishing  events  can  be  bracketed 
in  twos.  In  the  lall,  for  instance. 
two  books  will  be  published  about 
that  gentleman  who  has  made  news 
all  his  life,  Sir  Winston  Churchill 
Hawthorn  will  issue  a  "definitive" 
two-volume  life  of  Sir  Winston  by 
Lewis  Broad,  and  Coward-Mc  Claim 
is  to  publish  in  September  a  book 
called  /  Was  Churchill's  SecretarM 
by  Elizabeth  Layton  Nel,  who  was 
indeed  one  of  his  secretaries  for  lour- 
and-a-hall  years  during  the  war.  .  .  . 

Harcourt,    Brace    and    Double-day 
will    each    have    a    fall    book    about1; 
Anne    Frank,    whose    diary,    written, 
while  she  and  her  family  were  hid- 
ing from  the  Germans  in  Holland, 
is  now  known  in  translations  round  I 
the    world.     Harcourt's    volume    is,; 
written  by  a  German,  Ernest  Schna-j 
bel,   who  has  discovered  everything 
thiit  it  is  possible  to  find  out  about; 
Anne's   hist   days   in    Auschwitz   ana 
Belsen.    He  has   interviewed   nearly 
forty   people   who   were    there   with 
Anne  and  her  family  and  so  has  dis- 
covered many  touching  stories  about; 
her  and  has  even  found  pictures  that 
are  part  of  her  life.  The  book  is  still 
untitled.   The  also  untitled  Double- 
day  book,  by  Allied  Kazin,  will  con-| 
tain  all  ol  her  diary,  stories  written 


A  man 
needs  only- 
one  reason . . . 


Fight  Cancer 
"with  a  checkup 

and 
a  check 


I 


AMERICAN 
CANCER 
SOCIETY 


BMt*vmr 


A  Novel  by 

DANIEL  D.  NERN 

Everything  in  his 
environment  had 
taugnt  Willie  Win- 
ter to  hate  white 
people,  but  when  his 
beautiful  light- 
brown  sister  was 
savagely  raped  by 
three  white  homo- 
sexuals, the  hatred 
became  murderous 
.  .  .  Yet  killing  a 
man  cannot  erase  a 
rooted  evil,  as 
Willie    learned. 

S3.95 


3]     at  your  bookstore  or  write   to 

BEACON  PRESS  dept    hm-6 

25  BEACON  ST.,   BOSTON,  MASS. 
Send  me  postpaid: 

□  BLACK   AS   NIGHT  $3.95 

□  Your  new  catalog 

Name 

S  treet 

City State 

Check Money  Order  No  C.O.D.'s 


The  new  Blanshard 
The  facts  after  ten  years 

America*  freedom  4 

by  PAUL  BLANSHARD  $3.95 


BOOKS     IN     BRIEF 

by  her,  letters  received  by  her  father 
since  the  diary  was  published,  and 
photographs  of  the  various  stage 
productions  ol  "The  Diary  of' Anne 
Frank.''  .  .  . 

Nepal,  that  far  and  little  known 
kingdom  between  India  and  Tibet, 
is  the  background  lor  two  books 
coming  within  the  next  few  months. 
Coward-McCann  will  publish  Erika 
and  the  King,  by  Erika  Leuchtag,  a 
true  story  of  a  1951  palace  revolu- 
tion in  which  the  German  author 
played  a  part.  And  this  revolution 
is  part  of  the  background  of  The 
Mountain  Is  Young,  a  novel  by  Han 
Suyin,  author  of  the  best-selling  A 
Many  Splendored  Tiring.  Putnam 
will  publish  it  in  the  fall 

Two  episodes  of  World  War  II 
are  to  be  recorded  by  master  re- 
porters and  storytellers  probably 
early  in  1959.  David  Howarth  who 
wrote  We  Die  Alone  and  The  Sledge 
Patrol  is  to  write  for  McGraAv-Hill 
a  full-scale  account  of  all  that  hap- 
pened on  D-Day,  June  6,  1944;  and 
Walter  Lord,  whose  A  Night  to  Re- 
member will  never  be  forgotten,  is 
to  write  for  Harper  a  book  on  the 
civilian  part  of  the  evacuation  of 
Dunkirk.  .  .  . 

Two  series  of  articles,  both  on 
troubled  aspects  of  life  in  New  York 
City  are  now  scheduled  to  appear 
as  books.  Christopher  Rand's  New 
Yorker  series  on  Puerto  Rican  life  in 
New  York  is  to  be  published  under 
the  title,  The  Puerto  Ricans,  by  Ox- 
ford in  September.  And  Harper 
plans  to  publish  Harrison  E.  Salis- 
bury's New  York  Tunes  series  (ex- 
panded to  about  twice  its  size)  on 
the  problems  of  juvenile  delinquency 
in  a  book  called  The  Shook-Up 
Generation  (October).  .  .  . 

To  stretch  duality  almost  to  the 
breaking  point,  we  will  have  two 
books  coming  up  about  Montgomery, 
too.  One,  the  complete  memoirs  of 
"Monty,"  the  Field  Marshal,  is,  ol 
course,  about  the  Viscount  Mont- 
gomery of  Alamein,  K.G.,  and 
World  will  publish  it  in  November 
under  the  title  The  Sparks  Fly  Up- 
ward. The  other,  to  be  published 
by  Harper,  also  in  the  fall,  is  (ailed 
A  Moment  in  History:  The  Mont- 
gomery Story,  by  Martin  Luther 
King,  and  it  is,  of  course,  about  the 
courageous,  passive-resistance  bus 
strike  of  the  Negroes  in  Montgomery, 
Alabama. 


"D 

■art  history,  part 
guide-book,  part  traveler's 
journal.  Mr.  Crow  has  an 
inescapable  affection  for  the 
land  and  its  people,  and  it 
shows  through  warmly." 

— Milton  Bracker, 
N.   Y.  Times  Book  Review 

"It  has  the  appealing 
quality  of  a  rewarding  jour- 
ney you  share  vicariously 
with  an  observant  wan- 
derer." —  Charles  Poore, 
N.  Y.  Times 

"The  kind  of  frank  and  un- 
biased appraisal  of  a  people 
and  their  land  that  is  pre- 
sented by  John  A.  Crow  is 
rare  indeed." 
— San  Francisco  Chronicle 

"A  must  for  the  half  million 
Americans  who  visit  Mexico 
each  year  ...  an  especially 
knowledgeable  and  up-to- 
date  book." 

— Boston  Herald 


Mexico  Today 

By  JOHN  A.  CROW 

Author  of   The  Epic  of  Latin  America 


Index  •   16  pages  of  photographs 
At  oil  bookstores  •  $5.00 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS 


the  ^RECORDINGS 


Edward  Tat  nail  Canby 


FROM 

Beethoven:  Symphony  #3  ("Eroica"); 
Coriolanus  Overture.  Philh.  Promenade 
t)ii  h.  of  London,  Boult.   Vanguard  VRS 

Kill'. 

Beethoven:  Symphony  #(>  ("Pastoral"); 
Fidelio  Overture.  Philh.  Promenade 
Orch.  ol  London,  Bouh.  Vanguard  VRS 

KM  I. 

rhese  are  two  in  a  new  series  ol  the 
Symphonies  and  Overtures;  two  more, 
already  out,  cover  the  Fifth  and  Seventh, 
with  the  "I. concur"  #3  and  "Egmont" 
Ovei  tures. 

li  isn't  often  that  .1  small  company, 
out  to  land  the  big  ihumi.i1  fish,  succeeds 
as  happily  as  Vanguard  has  done  here. 
But  this  orchestra  is.  indeed,  "one  of 
England's  leading"  bands,  as  is  broadly 
hinted,  and  Sir  Adrian  is  a  wise,  gra 
(ions,  largely  untemperamental  British 
conductor  with  thirty  years  and  more  of 
mellowing  behind  him.  Thus— for  once 
—then-  is  no  frenetic  attempt  to  make  a 
big  splash,  a  novel  or  ultra-dynamic  in- 
terpretation, out  of  these  familial  works. 
They  sing  themselves,  under  expert 
guidance.    Aside  from  a  few  rathei    fasi 


tempi  (perhaps  to  accommodate  too 
short  LP  sides),  there  is  nothing  but 
Beethoven,  in  a  solidly  old-fashioned 
sense.  And  the  recording  is  superb, 
modern   in  sound  but   noi   exaggerated. 

Beethoven:     The    Late    Quartets    (Op. 
127,  ISO,  131,  132,  13:5,  135).   Hollywood 
String  Quartet.    Capitol   I'l  R  8394 
(Also  issued  separately.) 

All  the  late  quartets,  including  the 
"Grosse  Fuge,"  in  one  album.  Propei 
digestion  foi  review  should  lake  months 
— or  years,  ideally.  It  is  almost  sacri 
legious  to  generalize  a  few  words  about 
such  a  limitless  bod)  ol  musical  expres 
sion. 

\s  compared  with  other  groups 
notable  for  these  works,  especially  the 
Budapest  ovei  man)  years,  the  I  lolly- 
wood  achieves  a  commendable  beauty  of 

tone  and  smoothness  ol  ensemble.  I  he 
pitch  is  unusually  accurate  in  many  spots 
thai  often  are  merely  approximated  l>\ 
other  hard-pressed  fiddlers.  The  inter- 
pretations here  are  highly  intelligent, 
well-thought-out,  accurate. 

But,  perhaps  because  ol  this,  the  play- 


"You  have  just  heard  the  Second  Brandenburg  Concerto,  performed  by  the 
Pro  Harmonia  Antiqua  Society  undet  conditions  similai  to  those  prevail- 
ing at  musit   festivals  in  the  time  of  Bach." 


ings  are  clearly  low-key— speaking  rela- 
tively sweetei  but  milder  than  others 
we  have  heard.  Not  really  mild— the 
music  allows  no  such  thing.  |usi  less 
craggy,  the  details  of  phrasing  and  feel- 
ing less  energy-packed  than  in  the  Buda- 
pest stvle-  of  presentation. 

Beautiful  quartet   string  sound   in  the 
recording,  immersed  in  a  big  liveness. 

Beethoven:  Piano  Concert!  #1  and  #2. 

(in  de  (.root;  Vienna  Symphony,  Van 
Otterloo.    1  pic    LC  3434. 

I  In m'  are  tin-  linest.  most  satisfying  per- 
formances ol  these  two  early  concertos 
that  I  can  remember  hearing.  A  perfect 
teamwork,  In  exquisitely  lovely  stvle. 
wonderfully  will  rehearsed,  well-phrased, 
meaningful,  never  even  a  bit  tired  or 
routine.  nevei  forced  or  insincere.  This 
music,  along  with  much  Mozart,  is  the 
son  thai  demands  a  superioi  sense  lor 
shape'  and  phrasing,  down  to  the  tiniest 
detail  and  into  the  longest  lines.  It  can 
easily  sound  supeiliei.il  or  merely  im- 
mature—but not  here-.  And  then  is 
enough  here  ol  the  mature'  Beethoven 
robustness  to  carry  the  music  through  to 
us  undoubted  greatness. 

rhese    performances    compare    nicely 
with   the   notable   Epic  series  including: 

Beethoven:  Violin  Sonatas,  Opus  12, 
#1;  Op.  23;  Op.  24  ("Spring").  Violin 
Sonatas  Op.  30,  #2;  Op.  96.  Arthur 
Grumiaux,  vl..  Clara  Haskil,  pf.  Epic 
LC  3400;   LC  3381. 

I  hese  two  line  discs  bring  the  first  team 
in  recent  Mo/. 111  recordings  into  the 
Beethoven  area  and  with  as  good  effect. 
The  wispy  little  lady,  Clara  Haskil,  is 
as  much  of  a  paragon  of  marvelously  chs 
ciplined  energy  in  this  music  as  in  her 
superb  Mozart.  Grumiaux  is  no  supreme 
violinistic  technican  or  show-off,  but  h- 
clearly  gets  along  to  perfection  with 
Haskil  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  note  how 
impeccably  balanced  is  their  playing  ol 
each  idea,  large  or  small.  This  is  en- 
semble at   its  best   and   most   expressive. 

Beethoven:  The  Cello  Sonatas  (Op.  5,  #. 
and  #2;  Op.  69;  Opus  102,  #1  and  #2). 
Antonio  fanigro,  cello.  Carlo  Zecchi,  pf. 
Westminstei   WW  2218   (2). 

By  convention,  the  cellist's  picture  ap- 
pears on  this  album  cover.  But  in  the 
ice  ending  it  is  Carlo  Zecchi.  the  pianist, 
who  is  the  overwhelming  leader  of  th 
duo  ensemble.  A  flashing!)  intense 
piano  personality;  in  no  time  he  sweeps 
Mill  away,  leaves  you  positively  breath- 
less, with  his  highly  communicative  en- 
thusiasm and  intensity.  Mr.  fanigro,  the 
cello,  is  there  all  the  time— his  playing 
is  beautifully  controlled  and  in  excellent 
si  vie.  But  it  is  Zecchi,  overwhelmingly 
Zecchi,  who  sets  the  pace. 

I  suppose  this  could  be  called  a  Latin 


THE     NEW     RECORDINGS 


playing.  Both  performers  are  non-Ger- 
man in  training  and,  in  truth,  the  florid 
intensity  is  Italian  in  the  best  sense.  But 
I  would  not  dare  imply  that  this 
Beethoven  is  out  of  style-far  from  it. 
The  sound  merely  accentuates  the  dra- 
matic in  Beethoven,  over  and  above  any 
trace  of  weightiness.  I  particularly  en- 
joyed the  early  works,  Opus  5— lor  they 
have  here  the  violent  robustness  that 
we  now  understand  was  always  present 
in  Beethoven,  even  in  the  works  of  his 
younger  years,  outwardly  somewhat  de- 
rivative. This  is  a  splendid,  top-rank 
Beethoven  album  and  splendidly  re- 
corded,  too. 

Beethoven:  "Diabelli"  Variations,  Op. 
120.  (1)  Leonard  Shure.  Epic  LC  3382. 
(2)  Rudolph  Serkin.  Columbia  ML 
5246. 

Columbia  evidently  gave  its  sister  firm, 
Epic,  a  few  months'  grace  before  crash- 
ing through  with  its  own  Serkin  version 
of  these  incredibly  wonderful  piano 
variations— but  Mr.  Shure  has  a  great 
deal  to  say  on  the  subject  himself  and 
should  not  automatically  be  put  aside. 

These  thirty-three  variations  on  a 
silly  but  persistent  tune  of  the  publisher, 
Diabelli,  belong  with  the  last  sonatas; 
but  they  are  later,  nearer  in  their  fan- 
tastic scope,  their  sudden  passions, 
strange  rhythms  and  unexpected  har- 
monies, to  the  last  quartets.  The  varia- 
tions make  easy  listening,  though, 
because  of  the  ever-present  pattern  of 
the  Diabelli  tune,  a  shape  that  the  most 
innocent  ear  can  detect  throughout.  It 
is  a  classic  shape,  as  Beethoven  recog- 
nized; it  brings  to  mind  the  Bach  "Gold- 
berg" theme's  solid  harmony,  as  these 
variations  resemble  the  Goldberg  set  in 
the  hugeness  of  their  conception  and 
variety. 

Serkin  has  the  edge  in  sheer  power 
and  drama,  without  a  doubt.  His  is  a 
stupendous  performance  in  the  whole. 
Shure,  less  of  a  technician,  is  still  a 
penetrating    Beethoven    pianist.     There 


are  many  things  he  does  here  that  match 
the  best  in  Serkin,  if  in  a  different  way. 
Why  not  try  both  discs?  The  music 
surely  is  big  enough  to  merit  it! 

Serkin  has  a  co-performer,  a  loud, 
persistent  cricket  who  chirps  an  E  flat 
through  much  of  Side  2.  Serkin  also 
sings  himself  a  bit. 

A  Beethoven  Recital  (32  Variations  in  C 
Minor;  Andante  Favori;  Six  Bagatelles, 
Op.  126;  Ecossaises).  Andor  Foldes,  pf. 
Decca  DL  9964. 

Beethoven:  Short  Piano  Works,  vol.  1 
(Six  Bagatelles,  Op.  126;  Fantasia,  Op. 
77;  Six  Ecossaises;  "Fur  Elise,"  Rondos, 
Op.  51,  Minuet  in  G).  Artur  Balsam, 
pf.   Washington   WR   401. 

It  never  rains  but  .  .  .  here  are  two 
versions  of  parts  of  the  shorter  Beetho- 
ven output  that  for  years  I've  felt  ought 
to  be  more  often  heard,  notably  the 
extraordinary  little  Bagatelles,  out  of  the 
very  last  period  of  his  life.  The  Foldes 
disc  has  the  famous  "Thirty-Two  Varia- 
tions" of  1806  on  one  side,  a  middle- 
period  work  that  is  a  kind  of  Beethoven 
Passacaglia  or  Chaconne,  related  to 
Bach's,  and  to  Corelli's  "La  Folia."  Bal- 
sam throws  in  a  number  of  the  minor 
pieces  of  early  Beethoven  that  have  al- 
ways been  favorites  among  beginning- 
piano  students— numbers  of  listeners 
will  be  delighted  to  hear  them  in  this 
competent  form. 

Foldes  is  a  pianistic  genius  who  is 
slowly  but  surely  catching  up  with  his 
own  extraordinary  technical  powers.  He 
still  is  a  hard,  impetuous  pianist  (like 
so  many  gifted  Hungarians)  but  his 
music  is  growing  warmer  and  bigger. 
Thus  his  penetration  of  those  disarm- 
ing^ simple,  utterly  profound  fragments, 
the  Bagatelles,  is  much  greater  than  Bal- 
sam's. His  Variations  realize  every  bit 
of  the  bigness  of  concept  in  the  extended 
work.  On  the  other  hand,  Balsam  has  a 
peculiarly  lovely  way  with  the  lighter 
Beethoven  pieces,  giving  them  a  beauty 


WORTH   LOOKING   INTO    .    .    . 


Prokofiev:  Violin  Concerti  #1  and  #2. 
Isaac  Stern;  N.  Y.  Philh.,  Mitropoulos, 
Bernstein.     Columbia    ML    5243. 

Shostakovich:  The  Festive  Overture; 
Memorable  Year  1919;  Symphony  #9. 
State  Radio  Orch.  USSR,  Gauk.  Monitor 
MC  2015. 

Schumann:  Symphonic  Etudes;  Kreis- 
leriana.  Wilhelm  Kempff,  piano.  Decca 
DL  9948. 


Schoenberg:  Moses  und  Aron  (opera  in 
three  acts).  Soloists,  Orch.  Norddeutscher 
Rundfunk,    Rosbaud.     Columbia     K3L 

241-    (3). 

Mahler:  Kindertotenlieder;  Lieder  eines 
fahrenden  Gesellen.  Flagstad,  Vienna 
Philh.,   Boult.     London   5330. 

Mahler:  Symphony  #4.  Emmy  Loose, 
sop.,  Philharmonia  Orch.,  Kletzki.  Angel 
35570. 


does  twice 
costs  half 


vil  ®  ® 


executives 

call  it  the 

dictating 

transcribing 

miracle 


Q3H 


Stenorette 

STENORETTE  — most  versatile  dictating  ma- 
chine you  can  own  today.  And  for  only 
$179.50  (plus  Federal  Excise  Tax).  This 
world-acclaimed  dictating- transcribing 
miracle  offers  simple,  push-button  control, 
gives  you  extra  hours,  does  everything 
highest-cost  units  do  but  at  half  the  price! 
Dictate  for  30  minutes  onto  one  magnetic 
tape,  useable  over  and  over  again.  Acces- 
sories are  expressly  designed  for  your 
secretary's  comfort  and  convenience.  More 
than  311,500  Stenorettes  are  used  through- 
out the  world  today.  Try  a  Stenorette  at 
your  own  desk.  / k\~, 

iDeJUR-Amsco  Corporation.  Depl.  H-18 
1 ,.»;  Northern  Blvd..  Long  Island  Cityl.N.  Y. 
Please  send  free  Stenorette  brochure. 


Name 

Company ; 

City Zcne I 

I 
State 

©  DeJUR-Amsco  Corp.  1958     ®  Registered  Trademark 


TO  MANILA,  TO  THE  ORIENT, 
BY  PRESIDENT  LINER 

Serving  Manila  on  the   lians  Pacific  route 

are    the    PRESIDENTS    CLEVELAND,    HOOVER 

and  u  n  son.  I  ach  isa  floating  country  club 
resort—  with  beautiful  lounges,  outdooi 
pool,  spacious  decks,  each  the  perfect  set- 
ting foi  superb  dining,  days  ol  games,  sun 
urn"  relaxation,  new  friendships;  nights  of 
dancing,  movies        and  deep,  refreshing 

sleep. 

I  11  route  a  visit  to  Hawaii  to  Yokohama, 
then  Manila,  with  its  bright  avenidas  of 
modern  shops,  restaurants  and  hotels;  lis 

stone   ramparts  and   solemn  cathedrals  Ol 
ancient  Spanish  days. 
Sailings  twice  monthlj  from  <  alifornia  to 
Hawaii,11     lapan,    the    Philippines,    Hone 
Kong  and  return  via  Japan  and   Hawaii 
(  imse    fares   from   $1386    (with    private 
bath). 
/  he  i'i'i  sun  n  i  iinrivi  i<  makes  a  single  i  all  at 
Ihtnoliiln  outbound  hi  homebound. 


'Round-the-World  Cruising 

Passenger  liners  ss  PRESIDENTS  POLK 
and  MONROE.  100  leisurely  days,  21 
fascinating  ports  in  13  lands  around 
the  globe.  I  ares  from  $3075. 
Deluxe  12-passenger  Marinei  (  argo 
liners  oiler  luxurious  freighter  travel 
'Round-the  World   I  are    from  S2725. 


New  York  to  California 

ks  ol  enjoj  menl  and  rest  on  sunny 
seas  to  (  alifornia  with  the  daytime  transit 
Of  the  Panama  (anal  a  memoi  able  (  venl 
of  your  voyage;  aboard  deluxe  Manners 
and  other  cat  golinei  s  lares  from  $350. 
Add  Uapulco  to  your  cruise  aboard  the 
■i  :     [Dl  N  I     POJ  K    or    PR]  SUM  N  I     MONRO!  . 

Minimum  fares  to  Acapulco,  $475;  to  San 
l  i .hi  isco,  $550. 

See  Your  Travel  Agent  for  Details 

Shippers'  choice    on-time  cargo  sen 
President  style!  Specify  the  Presidents  for 
dependable  schedules,  production-line  dis- 

oods,  safe  dockside  deliv  i 
satisfied  consignees!  See  your  freight   foi 
W  aider   or  broker. 


"Orient  Holiday" 

For  your  copy  of  this  104-page  travel 
guide,  please  send  $1  to  P.  ().  BOX 
2604,  S,m  Francisco  26. 


AMERICAN  PRESIDENT 
LINES 

General  Offices: 

311  California  Street.  San  Francisco  4 

California 


THE     N  I   W     R  I  (OR  I)  I  \  (,S 

ol  | •  1 1 1 ase  and  shapi  thai  makes  thi  rxi 
unexpi  i  tedl)   meaningful. 

I  inst  Lev)  Plays  Beethoven  (Sonatas. 
Op.  90,  101).    I  in. .an  l  NLP  1051. 

Ernsl    Lev)    is   the    B<  i  thoven    prodig) 

w  ho  has  |. iii  l\  inn  si  into  i  In  record  field 
1 1 hough  lie  has  long  ash m islnc I  a  limited 
( ii(  le  wil  1 1  liis  oc<  asional  "h\ e"  piani i 
perfoi  main  i  si     Ih    is  one  ol   those  odd 

ill  aiii.il  n     g(  niiisi  s    w  Iii)    somehow     pi  n< 

trati   i nsi(  \  depths,  even  w  ithoul  an 

impeccable  technique,     I  he   biggei    the 
concept,  the  bettei   he  is    Ins  earliei   n 
cordings  ol    the  last    Beethoven   sonatas 
jumped  at  on<  e  to  the  from  rank,  along 
wiih  Si  hnabel  and  the  like. 

I  In  Lev)  st) le  is  mosi  unusual  for 
this  day.  It  is  sei  mingl)  oul  ol  thi  earl) 
years  oi  this  i  eni  ui  \  though  Lev)  is  l.n 
from  eldei  l\.  1 1<  could  be  di  Pai  h 
in. inn:  Ins  pedaled,  immensel)  drawn 
oul     Romantii  ism,     I  nil    ol     expressn  e 

I  ii b. 1 1 o.   is  ol    tin    I  line  ol    Wil  Inn    M( ngc  I 

berg  and  perhaps  Mahlei .  il  seems 
wholly  pre  si  hnabi  I  pre  Rai  hmaninoff— 
ibis  unique  mam tusl  have  to  do,  I 

SUSpeCt,    With    Ins    Swiss    I  i.k  kgl  on  1 11 1 ;    you 

will  find  tin  same  feeling  in  much  Swiss 
musii . 

( )ihll\  enough,  as  Mr,  I  .<  \  j  works 
i  i.n  k  toward  the  eai  liei  Beetle  en  he 
is  less  impressive.  I  hese  two  an  big 
enough  fare,  to  be  sine,  bul  the  sweep 
is  not  quite  thai  ol  the  immense  last 
sonatas,  and  tin  Lev)  cci  enti  icity,  the 
minor  la<  ks  in  tei  hnique,  show  up  here 
soineuliat  mote  prominently.    Neverthe 

less.     I  In  si      an      bi"     perfoi  in. i  iii  is     wol  I  h 

plenty  ol  study. 

Beethoven:    "Moonlighi    Sonata";    "Les 

\dicu\,"    "V      Ihcicse."    "  \  ppassionala." 

Robei  i  <  lasadesus,  piano.   Col.  VI]    52  I  I 

(  i  iilcsns  is  impressive  as  a  pianisl  with 
a  ii  inn  kably  potent,  di  iving,  expei  1 1\ 
controlled  tei  hnique.  I  here  ai  e  few 
who  t  an  matt  h  him.  \li<  i  all.  technique 
in  the  highest  sense  e ounts  foi  a  loi  in 
these  Beethoven  sonatas,  notably  in  that 
I  in  iousl)  i  apid  and  iru  ish  e  opus,  i  he 
"Appassionata,"  opus  57.  I  found  m) 
sell  listening  carefull)  to  the  ( lasadesus 
mastery  ol  the  presto  in  thai  final 
movement  and  was  mightily  impressed 
b\    the   poteiK  \    ol    many   other   passages. 

Bui  (as  this  prelude  musl  indicate) 
there  is  mote  t<>  musii  t  nan  tei  hnique, 
however  driving.  I  am  impressed  bul 
not  moved.  The  little  notes  show  up 
Iota  el  tillv  hii  e,  in  all  i  hen  millions;  i  he 
big  lines,  the  greal  dramatii  moments, 
the  superb  harmonii  balances  are  so  so. 
Even  the  slight  blui  i  ing  ol  "in  i  hord 
into  the  nexl   thai   Casadesus  allows  to 

happen  seems  to  me  to  iniln  ale  a  l.n  k 
ol  sense  foi  the  iiiiui  musical  meaning. 
Powci  lul  Beethoven,  hut  nol  In  si  rate, 


JAZZ 


nolcs 


Eric  Larrabee 

\l  R  .      .1  I    I    I    Y      LO  I!  I) 

Ferdinand    |oscph    LaMentlie    (I 
1941)     was     a      \rw     (  )l  bans     bawd) 

house  pianist  who  sometimes  claimed, 
in  moments  ol  exhii.u  at  ion,  to  have  "in- 
vented" |.i//.  In  Ma)  19 'is  ibc  lolklot  isi 
Man  1  onia\  sat  him  ill  a  piano,  w  ill]  a 
bottle  ol  whiski  \  ai   hand.  .iwi\  recorded 

bn  the  I  ibl  ai  \  ol  Coilgl  ess  a  sei  ies  ol 
snugs  ami  reminiscences  that  were  long 
among  the  most  highl)  desired  but  un 
i\  .i  1 1  .i  I  il  i  items  in  the  ja//  literature, 
fell)  Roll  Morton,  as  he  was  always 
known,  is  now  on  twelve  I  Ps  and  acces- 
sible to  anyone  w  ii  h  $70.00. 

Morton  bad  a  In  ,i\  \  fool  and  an 
"i  ai  ul  ii  in. i  him  i  (  bat.  along  with  l  he 
sound  ol  primitivi  recording,  the  pin 
( liasri  will  have  in  In-  prepared  to 
ignoi  i  \\  1 1 . 1 1  (  onus  i  hrough  <  leai  l\  is 
tin  personality,  which  is  one  ol  a 
reall)    entertaining   and   dedicated    heel. 

I   ike    eVI  I  yonc    rise,     hi      was    alii  ,i(\\     be 

ginning  to  romanticize  Storyville,  but 
an)  omissions  are  more  than  made  up 
bn  b)  the  "live"  Morion,  the  llashy 
di essei  with  t he  diamond  in  his  tooth 
(asked  il  il  was  true  thai  |elly  bad 
managed   a   chain   ol    bordellos   in  Cali- 

I a.    one    music  Ian    said :    "I  le    didn't 

'  i    thai    diamond    playing    no    piano"). 
Mining   the  i  I  il  u  s    \loi  ton   st  ill   c  n  |o\s 
a    1 1  >pei  table    i rpui.it ion    as   a    pianist, 
bin    what   sec  ins  most    likely   to  interest 
listi  ni  is    is    his    demonstration    ol    the 
variet)    there   was.  even   then,   in    jazz 
the  quadrille,  othei  dance  rhythms,  and 
espei  iall)    w hal    he    calls    "the    Spanish 
tinge,"    i  In     Latin     \merii  an    influent  es 
thai    now    seem    more   alien    and    exotic 
than  i  he)  histoi  i<  all)  were.    \  good  poi 
Hon  ol   these  are  in   Volumes    I    ("Bo) 
hood   Memoi  ies")  and    I    ("( Ireepy  Feel 
ing");    togethei    with    i    ("Georgia   Skin 
Game")   the)   give  a   Eaii    sampling, 

I  i  n    I  In    besl ,  and  besl    reCOl  decl.  piano 

pla\  ing  in  the  sei  ies,  fohn  S.  Wilson  ol 
the  New  York  I  itnes  adds  Volume  lo 
("Original     Jelly     Roll      Blues"),     and 

Riverside  also  has  two  albums  ol    Million 

accompaniments  and  solos  t hat  wci e 
in. nli  by  Gennetl  in  1923  I  Some  ol  Ins 
famous  orchestral  recordings  (with  the 
Red  I  lot  Peppei  s)  appeared  for  a  i  one 
on  RCA  Victor's  defunrl  "X"  label  and 

ai  c  due  to  be  I  e  issued  soon. 

I  In-  Librar)  <>l  Congress  Recordings. 
Riverside   RLP  9001-12. 


Mso:  Classic  Piano  Solos,  RLP  I  L'  I  I  I  : 
V  ().  R.  K.,  New  Oihans  Rhythffl 
i  in ii    Morton.   RLP   12  102. 


AMERICAN  PRESIDENT  LINES 


SERVING  50  PORTS  ON  4  MAJOR  TRADE  ROUTES 


^v **/ 


. . . its  always  a  pleasure ! 


In  the  lighter,  milder  86  Proof 

or  in  100  Proof  Bottled  in  Bond 

Every  drop  of  the  milder  86  Proof  is  original  and  genuine 

!.  W.  Harper — distilled  and  bottled  at  the  same  distillery  as 

the  famous  100  Proof  Bottled  in  Bond. 


BOTH    KENTUCKY    STRAIGHT    BOURBON    WHISKEY    •     I.    W.    HARPER    DISTILLING    COMPANY,    LOUISVILLE,    KENTUCKY 


m 


LiHSI 


agt 


B